#but then i wanna lay here and just start a new storyline with an elvis ai | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sassasquashedgrapes · 7 years

Text

Another Story: A Glee x Kissed by the Baddest Bidder Cross-over

It’s me again! Your friendly neighborhood, Squashed Grape.

It’s been a while since I got into the fanfic (or any literal stuff) and decided to do some fan service today. This is an old post but a goodie. You see, I’ve been a fan of Glee during the early days and was also a huge Otome player (lol. the closest to player I’ll ever be). And made this fanfic cross-over of sorts inspired from the Voltage Inc story, Kissed by the Baddest Bidder. Actually I *might* have switched the names a bit and the plot line is from the intro except for a few tweaks. Anyway, I just wanna lay it all down there so nobody starts yelling bloody murder.

After all, wasn’t 50 Shades like some fan service to Twilight, so haters can just move along now, Nothing to see.

So without much further ado, a short story cross-over for y’all!!

By the way, be prepared for a series of long fanfics of Glee coming at your way. This is only just the beginning of the Hargreave brothers.

click below

Another Story: Kissed By The Baddest Bidder/Glee Fanfic.

I’ve always been a huge fan of the otome game and the delicious notion of having someone used up for bidding, using the Glee characters seemed absolutely too good to resist. How could I? So shall we? Elian “Ian” Hargreave – Eisuke Ichinomiya Mike Chang – Soryu Oh, the cool mobster Noah Puckerman – Mitsunari Baba, the philandering theif Kurt Hummel – Ota Kisaki , the artist. Lol I know, Ota doesn’t swing that way but I always pegged Ota as a closet anyway. Cooper Anderson – Mamuro Kishi, the lazy detective and of course: Lucy Quinn Fabray – MC

Quinn Fabray is different in this storyline. I made a parallel universe of sorts, changing a bit of her past to make her come to her present future. So instead of moving to McKinley High, Lucy Q. Fabray’s father, Russel, dies of a heart attack and thus her mother remarries another man who worked as a hotel concierge manager in one of the most prestigious hotels in New York, the fictional hotel/casino Wyndham, (loosely based on the Waldorf Astoria) which is owned by then the family of Elian Hargreave’s grandfather who eventually takes over the hotel after graduating from high school. Quinn has grown up in the hotel, pretty much understanding and loving every detail and aspect of it, treating it as if it were her own family since she pretty much lead a lonely life in New York, being a small town girl from Ohio who turned out to grow into a beautiful young woman. This storyline is inspired by the Otome route of Eisuke Ichinomiya, whom I think was the best storyline for someone like her. I’m way too biased that I don’t think I want to share Soryu Oh with her, hahaha. Fast forward to the present, Quinn just graduated from Yale, but is now working he as a chambermaid in the hotel to earn extra cash at the same time pay for her college loans while she looks for a job.

Prologue: As I feel a trickle of sweat behind my back while being in the middle of the spotlight, I start to wonder as I stare into the crowd facing me “how on earth did I ever come to this?”

12 hours earlier

“Good morning,” I greet cheerfully as I swing open the door in locker room of the female changing hall as if I’ve done so many times over. I’m working during the summer as a maid at a hotel owned by the Hargreave Group, which is a large company that owns banks, trading companies, locally and overseas.

“Good morning, Lucy,” greets Marley, one of the maids who also works part-time in the hotel. I know for a fact that she looks old enough to still be in highschool, but I’ve never bothered to pry into matters like gossip. As long as they keep to their business, I keep to mine. But despite it, I feel like I could confide in her because she seems so open and nice.

“The VIP convention starts today. I am super excited,” Marley grins as she mentions one of the annual big events the hotel/casino throws.

“I’ll bet you’d be way too busy to get excited since you’ll be working at the casino floor,” I grin back thinking how exhausted I’m going to be once this convention is over. I’ve been living in the Wyndham since I was 15 after my dad died and my mother remarried. I’d come to love it as if it were my own family and was familiar with its daily routine until 4 years ago when it underwent a massive renovation into becoming the first hotel/casino in New York. It had been quite a scandal at first, with government officials opposing the idea of bringing “Las Vegas” to the metropolis, but the whole issue died down after a while and for the last two years, the Wyndham, became New York’s first legal casino and hotel.

“Don’t you wish you could work at the IVC?” Marley was referring to the International VIP Convention, one of the newly annual conventions frequented by Hollywood A-list stars, World leaders, socialites and big time businessmen who gathered once a year to play at the casinos and have a go into dabbling in a world of glamour

“Yeah, that would be great.” I agreed quietly.

“Well, that’s the goal of everyone who works here.” Marley sighed as she hunkered on the bench and rested her elbow on her knee as she propped her head on her hand. “I’ve been dreaming about it ever since I saw it on TV. Seeing movie stars, top athletes, and other super famous people all over the world gathered here in this party. I even heard Perez Hilton was so pissed that he didn’t get an invite.” She pursed her lips conspiratorially.

“You know, when I applied for this job a few months ago, I didn’t think I was going to be hired that I thought I was dreaming when I actually did.” Marley grinned happily. I smiled feeling how infectious her mood was, she was so upbeat by the whole thing, I didn’t want to look like a kill joy so I agreed.

“Oh my god.” She stopped suddenly as if she had thought of something of real importance. “What if some rich, famous guy falls in love with me at first sight?” I hope he knows you’re barely 18, I mentally think and almost utter it out loud but I stop myself and….

“Haha, keep dreaming.” I just say instead.

Whew, that was close. Our VIP guests are important, but I also value working for our regular guests, too. I had just graduated in a Marketing degree at Yale, but with the recession, jobs were scarcely handed and I didn’t feel the need to dabble in doing freebies as an Intern in a big corporation, when I could be earning much more doing it here in Wyndham. It really isn’t so bad. I really didn’t care that much about image anyway since moving to New York. Somehow the anonymity of it all had liberated me from the confines of the shallowness that I had experienced living in Lima, Ohio that I didn’t give a damn anymore.

I thought about the IVC, the International VIP Convention, Wyndham’s largest annual event is today and the international publicity with the media hanging around the area was totally insane. Unlike Marley, I had actually dreaded this more because I knew things were busier and a lot more tense than usual. My step-father, Charlie was one of the managers of the hotel and was in charge of the VIP guests lounge and had direct connections to the owner, Mr. Elian Hargreave. I heard a lot about the new owner, how accomplished he was despite his young age. He was featured in Forbes magazine as the most successful businessman under 40 years of age (rumors had it that he couldn’t be more than 30 years old.) He reminded me of a true-to-life Bruce Wayne, ridiculously handsome in a dark, mysterious way and was always surrounded by beautiful women. I knew my sister, Fran was crushing on him big time that she even begged Charlie for an introduction, but to no avail.

As we left the locker room and head to the hotel lobby, where a crowd of reporters and onlookers gathered, people whom I’ve only seen on TV or on a movie screen started appearing, strutting as if they were meant to walk down the red carpet and enter the magnificent lobby as if it were from a Hollywood movie scene.

“Oh. My God.” Marley’s mouth literally hung wide open. “Look who just got out of that limo.”

I crane my neck and look around thinking that she just saw the famous TV actress who was in a popular teen show. What was her name again? Elena Davenport? She was famous for being in this TV show about a love triangle between a vampire and a cyborg. It was insane how people were shouting her name as if it were part of her entourage. She looked stunning with her black hair and her golden skin that had obviously seen the tropics recently. She was then accompanied by an equally handsome young man who stood well over six feet tall and had a shock of black brown hair.

“That guy’s always on the VIP list. They call him the King,” Marley whispers as if we’re in church.

“I thought that was Elvis,” I quipped chuckling at her disgruntled look. I knew what she meant. I wasn’t one to get caught up in celebrity gossip, but that King she was referring to was no other than the owner of the Wyndham, Mr. Hargreave. He gallantly bowed offering his arm to Elena who gave him a dazzling smile as she took his arm. Hanging on the other side of his arm was also someone famous. I heard she was the new Broadway superstar and her name was Rachel Berry. Behind him was another famous model who often graced those ads in Vogue and a famous British reality show actress.

All the women around him are famous, I think dully as I look down in my frumpy uniform. For some odd feeling I felt a pang of something that I couldn’t understand wash over me. Before I had time to even think about it, Marley again interrupted my thoughts by whispering again on my ear.

“He’s been living in the penthouse suite for a while now.” “Of course he does, he owns the hotel.”

“But it costs tens and thousands of dollars to stay there for the night.” Marley argued.

“Maybe it’s a lot more convenient to keep tabs of work here than living on Park Avenue or at the East Side.” I shrugged watching as Mr. Hargreave pays no attention to the huge crowd and walks straight ahead.

I realize that I can’t take my eyes off him. I’ve heard the how the female hotel staff would gush about how hot he was, but seeing him in the flesh just took my breath away.

“Aaaah!!! Over here, Elian!!!” one of the women from the mass crowd screams holding a phone camera hoping to get a picture of him.

Suddenly, a group of women, thinking about doing the same thing start running towards him and bump into me and I feel myself being pushed right into the crowd and on to the red carpet.

SMACK!

I feel like I just hit a wall and close my eyes bracing myself for the pain to follow after the impact. Instead I feel a band of steel arms hold me close, as if to steady me from the madness. I then pry my eyes open and find myself staring into a pair of steel gray blue eyes that were placed like jewels on a handsome chiseled face.

Mr. Hargreave!!

“Aah, I- I’m so sorry,” I stammered, feeling the rush of blood flow straight at my face and into my brain as I continue to look at him, almost mesmerized yet horrified by what had just transpired. I still feel his arms around me and I could just tell that this multibillionaire really does work out because he’s practically hugging me right now.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a haughty voice belonging to the new Broadway ingénue pipes up beside Mr. Hargreave. She sounds almost disgusted by the sight of me. I can see from the corner of my peripheral vision that Elena Davenport was smirking as if amused by what was happening. God, I didn’t think she was such a bitch until now.

But instead of voicing that sentiment out, I knew I had a job at stake and right now it was totally hanging in the balance. I had just publicly humiliated myself in front of the owner of the hotel and his guests and was drawing unnecessary attention right now and it was more than I could honestly bear. I swallow and gather myself before bitchy Quinn Fabray comes out and try to mutter an apology again but am cut short by a curt, masculine and surprisingly sexy voice.

“Get out of the way,” Mr. Hargreave says as he suddenly pulls away from me, and pushes me not quite gently aside.

“What?” I mutter in disbelief as I lose my balance and fall flat on my butt to the ground.

Owwwww..

I look at slight disdain at the man who apparently was also my boss, but his muscular, tapered back was the only thing that could see that look on my face as I watch walk further away. He brushes off his suit as if he had just encountered a speck of dust and before I thought he had finally dismissed me, turns his head and shoots me a glare and then suddenly disappears into the casino hall.

I suddenly realize with a shock that I still had that look of displeasure on my face and grimaced as I rubbed my lower back, trying yet again to stead myself as the crowd disappeared into where Mr. Hargreave and his entourage were headed. Marley quickly comes rushing over to my side.

“Are you okay, Luce?” She asks me, totally concerned as she called me by my nickname. I haven’t been called Lucy for a while, I had been using Quinn since I had come to New York, but somehow there was a comfort in still being known as Lucy while here in the confines of the Wyndham.

“Yeah, my butt and my pride are fine,” I say.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hargreave caught you in his arms. I am so totally jealous! Did he smell nice? Was he really as buff underneath that suit as they say?” Marley was acting like a puppy dog fawning over that jerk.

“I don’t know, I don’t even r-remember,” I lied because I had just mentally scratched Elian Hargreave off as a completely cold, aloof, unfeeling human being. The nerve of that man! He didn’t even bother to defend me while I, one of his staff members, was berated by that Broadway bitch Berry.

Hmm. That had a nice ring to it. I feel tons better knowing that the girl could have used a plastic surgeon as good as the one who did my nose.

Come to think of it, Elian Hargreave was actually pretty frightening. I’ve seen how New Yorkers glare sometimes, but that cold look was totally at subzero levels worthy of the Artic.

I smooth out my clothes and hear the click clack of high heels behind me.

“Just what were you thinking, making a fool out of yourself?” a cold, voice tinged with an Italian accent snapped me back to reality. “And in front of such important guests and even the owner of this hotel?”

“Miss Thelma, “ I say coolly plastering a smile at one of the hotel managers. Thelma Caparano has been on my ass since the day I started working at the Wyndham when she found out I graduated with honors on my Marketing degree from Yale. Perhaps it was that and because I’m Charlie’s kid that she thinks I deserve to be more ill-treated than a worn-out mule from a third world country. She stands imposingly before me, all dressed up in her expertly tailored uniform as she clacked impatiently on her Prada heels waiting for me to answer her.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It was an accident…”

“You are at fault for not paying attention to what’s going on around you,” she clucked her tongue at me, looking at me disapprovingly under those heavy glasses that framed her would-have-been pretty-if-she-wasn’t-such-a-bitch face. She was probably a few years older than me, but the harshness of her demeanor just made her look like petulant and almost bratty for a woman in her mid-thirties.

“Aren’t you in charge of the regular guests, Fabray?” She asks with a smirk on her face.

Oh boy, she does enjoy torturing me.

“You have no business even being here in the lobby. Not unless you get promoted to handling the VIP guests. But you won’t get that chance, would you? Not even if you begged your stepfather.” She laughed as if she had just thought of that joke and it was funny.

Ugh. I am totally so close to slapping her but instead I reply setting my gaze downcast hoping that she won’t see me seething as I meekly reply “Yes, Miss Thelma.”

“Well, since you’re here,” she motions to one of her hotel assistants who was following her like a dog who hands over a box as she shoves it towards me. “Go to every floor and drop off these announcement letters while you’re at it. These are for the guests who wish to avail of the spa promo package we are having in honor of the IVC.”

“Okay,” I say since arguing about doing a herculean task is going to go nowhere anyway since this angry vampire is out for my blood. She’s always been a bully and since I would never dared complain of this to Charlie even though I could have, I decide I might as well just shut up and deal with it. I turn and nod to Marley, saying my goodbyes and head towards the elevators.

As I walk by, I see a man, about my age arguing with a young woman about something in front of the elevator. The woman is wearing a dress that looks like something from the recent Fashion Week runway as she throws a mask at the man at the same time spewing a litany of curses in fluent French.

“Connard!! Baise toi!” she screamed as the man looked back in her as if in shock. “You lying, cheating scum! I never want to see you again.” With that, she gave him a resonant slap in the face for added effect before she walked out of the hotel.

This is awkward. I turn my attention instead to the mask that looked as if it were something one wore to a masquerade ball. I suddenly got an image of 50 shades of Grey and find myself staring at the mask lying on the floor. I was about to pick it up when the man who was slapped earlier moves quicker than I could and in a blink of an eye was brushing it off as if were the only precious thing that mattered to him.

Wow, his hands were fast like those of a magician. I turn to look at him and realize that he wasn’t bad looking either. He was of above average height and was muscularly built, but a bit thicker than Mr. Hargreave. He also had dark hair and had the most dazzling pair of emerald green eyes I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t tell what his hair was like underneath that Fedora hat that just made him look like the epitome of 1920’s gangster cool in a modern way.

Fedora Hat sighs dramatically. “Great, now I don’t have a date.” He says as if talking to himself then realizes I’m watching him. When our eyes meet, I quickly look away self-consciously because I didn’t want him to know that I had been caught staring at him. I try to act cool despite the awkward tension but know that he saw me witness the whole thing.

“You saw that, didn’t you?” He smirks, as if reading my mind.

“Yeah. I-I’m really sorry.” I backed away slowly as if avoiding being pounced by some agitated animal.

“Aw, come on. Don’t run away,” Fedora Hat laughs as he gently takes my arm as he leads me towards the elevator, completely ignoring the fact that I’m in the hotel maid’s uniform with a box of undelivered fliers on the other arm. “I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

“S-Sir?”

Before I know it, the man ignores my protests and continues to guide me, half-dragging me into the elevator with him. We’re alone in the elevator and to be honest, this is the first time I’ve been to the basement area. I’m surprised that the basment’s elevator looks just as elegant as the regular floor elevators. It sort of reminded me of going into a secret lair of some evil villain but at the same time being cooped inside a glass bird cage of sorts. I tried to avert my attention to the man beside me and look instead at the buttons of the elevator as the blinking lights affirmed our descent to the unknown.

“Whew! I’m lucky I found you,” Fedora Hat grins at me, still holding onto my arm having no intention of letting me go. His grip isn’t painful nor in any way gentle, but it’s firm enough to hold me into place. As if wanting to distract me from thinking of it, he adds “coz there’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm. That would be a total buzzkill.”

Buzzkill? Who says that sort of thing these days?

“Party? You mean, the IVC?”

“The One and Only. Isn’t it obvious how I’m dressed?” He opens one free arm to show his expensive Italian cut suit. Definitely Armani now that I got a closer look. And definitely custom made as it fits him perfectly.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that you—“

“Hahaha. I’m kidding, babe. Man, you’re kinda uptight for a pretty thing. Were you raised in some Christian Bible thumping school or something?”

“Uh, that’s because I work at this hotel,” I say slowly almost as if trying to hint that I’m still in my maid’s uniform, completely ignoring the fact that he’s actually right about me being Christian. “So technically, I can’t go with you to the party as your date, sir.”

“What are you talking about? The reason why that woman earlier left was so you could be my date, Lucy.” He smiles in the most seductive, sexiest way possible as he finally noticed the name plate on my uniform.

Whoa, this one’s pretty dangerous. And a hopeless flirt as well. I try not to show my fear when grabs my chin and lifts it up to meet his face as he peers down, bringing it closer to mine. I can feel his breath grazing against me as he looks into my eyes.

“Definitely my type. Angel blonde hair, mesmerizing green eyes, and luscious lips…” he trails on softly as I sort of feel his face coming closer. He moves way to fast and I try to squirm away, backing off thinking now I understood perfectly why he got dumped in the first place.

DING! Saved by the bell of the basement floor. The elevator arrives at a full stop at the ballroom and Fedora Hat quickly backs off and casually straightens himself as if nothing of importance was about to take place. He could even care less whether he kissed me or not. Jeez.

“Let’s rock and roll, Princess.” He announces and gives off a broad smile as if putting on a game face. And contrary to his calm demeanor, he drags me out into the ballroom before I can protest as I’m lead into the glamorous ballroom that reminded me from a scene of a Hollywood movie.

I gaped in awestruck fascination, marveling how I could have possibly missed out the new renovations at the Wyndham. The renovations had still managed to maintain some of the old architecture, paying detail to preserving its original Art Deco state, but added with contemporary minimalist design, it’s mixture was astounding and beyond words. I had no means of any background in architecture, but this was like walking into the Hall of Fame on architectural immortality. I was shocked that everyone present were almost nonchalant of the genius behind the design and how lavishly decorated the ballroom was to the point that even the catering was handled in the most A-list of ways. I turn my attention to the gorgeous Swarovski crystals that were adorning the chandeliers that were hanging from the high ceiling.

The entire floor was jam-packed with the rich and famous that I wasn’t even sure if I was hallucinating because it was too much sensory overload to be true. I turn my head and notice Cristian Renaldi, the famous World cup soccer player from Spain to my right. And that’s the famous Hollywood actress, Julie Moore. And even the former President of the United States is over there? I feel like Alice in Wonderland being wrapped around the surrealness of it all being around these celebrities that it takes me a moment to get back to earth and finally notice that Fedora Hat who had dragged me here in the first place was gone.

Huh? Where’d he go?

Suddenly, I hear a womanly voice from behind me.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” I turn around and am surprised that it wasn’t a woman, but a young man with an angelic face whose skin was as flawless as fine bone china. He had soft, brown hair and bright blue eyes. He looked so familiar because his face was on the cover of this month’s issue of People Magazine being tagged as one of the 25the most beautiful People of the World of this year.

“K-Kurt Hummel!!!” I gasp, recognizing the mega hyphenate National artist/ Pulitizer prize winning Children’s Novelist/ Socialite.

“Oh, you know who I am.” He smiles brightly, happy to have been recognized in a sea of famous faces. “Thanks!”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll look for the champagne now.” I mumble apolitically frantically looking for a bottle of Dom Perignon and Mr. Hummel chuckles behind me, as if thoroughly amused.

“You sure you work here, Alice?”

“P-Pardon?”

“You remind me of Alice in Wonderland when she fell down the rabbit hole and stumbled into the Mad Hatter’s party.” He moves away from me and reaches over the table behind me and lifts a bottle of Moet et Chandon and pours himself a glass. He then thrusts his newly refilled glass towards me nudging me to take a drink.

“Here. You could use one more than me,” he grins. I was about to protest but there was something harsh in his eyes telling me not to defy him as I emptied my glass.

“T-Thanks,” I was about to take the bottle and refill his glass for him when he shakes his head and takes the glass from my hands and pours himself another.

“Now, go on to doing whatever it was and I hope you get back home safely, Alice,” was all he says as he raises his champagne glass, giving me a wink of good luck for whatever it was I was about to partake. He leaves with a wave.

He definitely was spot on about what I was feeling right at that moment.

I should definitely get out of here before I cause any more trouble.

But before I do, another man stops me from my tracks. He’s over fifty, overweight, and perhaps a bit slightly drunk as he grins at me and grabs my hand. Ugh, he also seems really sleazy. “Aren’t you a pretty one?” He slurs and I inwardly flinch from the smell of alcohol and sweat coming from him. “You wanna come with me and give me room service? I’ll make it worth your while and give you a big tip afterwards.

Ewww. His head is shaped like an egg and his pock-marked face is flushed as he looks me up and down.

“I’m sorry, sir but we don’t offer that kind of service here.” I answer politely, knowing that we had been trained beforehand on how to deal with rude perverts like this guest.

He completely ignores me and starts going on how rich he is and how much is net worth is.

To be honest, it wasn’t really much.

He then slips his arm around my waist and is about to pull me towards him when…

“This party just got really trashy.” A familiar masculine voice announced icily. I turn my head towards my savoir and realize that it’s Mr. Hargreave. He ignores my gasp of surprise and scowls at the sleaze holding me.

“I’d rather appreciate it, sir, if you kept your attention from the hotel staff and settle instead for the bevy of beauties surrounding you,” Elian Hargreave grinned sardonically nodding his head towards a group of runway models who flirtly waved back. And just when I thought he couldn’t intimidate the sleazebag, he looked at me as if I were a piece of trash marring the ambience and added cruelly. “Besides, you could totally do better than THAT. This one’s hardly a raving beauty.”

“I-I’m really sorry, Mr. Hargreave, sir! Pardon me!!!” Sleazebag bows apologetically quickly letting go of me as if he had been burned and kept his distance from me like I was infected with Ebola or something. He furiously wipes away his sweat and runs off.

“T-Thank you, Mr. Hargreave,” I say, totally ignoring the pain that he had brushed me off as a ugly and unattractive. But then again, men like him are probably used to just dating models that even ingénues were all blasé for him.

“Let’s go, Elian,” one of the pretty models whom he nodded to a while back approached him and casually hooked her arm around his, totally ignoring me.

“I can’t stand people who don’t know their place,” another one of those long legged giraffes piped in hooking her arm around his other free one as if she were about to die in a desert and he was her oasis.

As if he didn’t even acknowledge my existence and hadn’t even heard me, he turned his back as if nothing had ever happened a few minutes ago before being led away by the Amazonian Brazilian bimbos. He starts walking still surrounded by women and I’m completely overwhelmed as I watch him walk away. I suddenly notice a purple handkerchief on the floor behind him. I remember this being a part of his suit and realize that he dropped it.

Almost without thinking, I picked it up and started going after him.

“Uhm, sir! Excuse me, I think you dropped this—“ I try to chase after Mr. Hargreave but he gets lost in the crowd and I can’t seem to find him.

Oh, wait! There he is!!

I make my way through the crowd and follow him as he makes an exit to the far end of the ballroom.

A long, deserted hallway stretches out behind the door that Mr. Hargreave enters.

“Wait. Where did he go?”

There are several doors on either side of the hallway and I didn’t catch up with him in time to even know which doors did he enter. However, I hear voices coming from the far end. But somehow, as I strain to hear from the distance I get the feeling the conversation wasn’t even in English. I shake my head, thinking that I really have to return this handkerchief back to Mr. Hargreave, I strengthen my resolve and make my way towards the door where the voices were coming from. I note the door is slightly ajar, which explains why I could hear them. I peek through the gap and see several briefcases lying on a table surrounded with guns and large sums of money being packed by three Asian looking men dressed in all black discussing where to put the money in perfect Cantonese and before I could see more, I feel a large hand grab me by the shoulder and roughly pulls me away, swinging me around and forces me up against a wall…

Fear and surprise of being caught seeing something I shouldn’t have take over that I feel like I just might have suffered my first heart attack.

But unfortunately, that doesn’t happen.

Instead, my heart starts pounding again in fear as I’m facing a tall, Asian man of slim, yet muscular build with broad shoulders and powerful muscles who is now glaring at me and asks in in slightly cold, yet scarily threatening voice. His hair is slicked back and even though I know he’s actually quite good looking, I’m paralyzed with fear to hardly even notice.

“What are you doing here?” He demands as he pins me against the wall as his sharp eyes look at me.

Oh dear, God.

It happened so suddenly my body starts to tremble as I start to realize that maybe he is one of those gun men and those men aren’t just hotel guests. But Mafia? Triad?

What on earth should I do?

I breathe and swallow but it’s way too hard to even do so. Instead I focus on his face and answer.

“I-I- w-w-ork h-he---“ He completely ignores me and says instead, “you’ve got give seconds to walk away, disappear and forget everything you just saw. Got it? Otherwise, I’d hate to think what would happen to you after.” He also said it in a way that sounded like he was talking to a five-year old. A not very bright one at that too.

I nod wordlessly over and over, desperate to get away and he immediately lets me go. I run so fast my legs get tangled up with each other at first and don’t even think of where I’m headed. I just run to the point of exhaustion and find myself at the basement storage room. I close the door behind me and try to catch my breath, relieved with the fact that I have just barely escaped with my life as I offer a silent prayer and make the sign of the cross in complete gratitude that the scary Asian Mafia guy just let me go.

I ruminate over the thought of how it was possible for the Triad, one of the notorious Asian Mafias could be tied up to an event like the IVC? Were those guys even part of the Triad? Maybe they weren’t even mafia.

Get a hold of yourself, Fabray. Keep it together. I have just realized right at this moment I had actually lost the box of flyers I was holding earlier. I wasn’t sure if I had lost somewhere from that struggle between me and Fedora Hat, or that Mad Hatter encounter with Kurt Hummel, or even with the Middle Aged Sleazebag . I try again to get my body to function properly as I compose myself thinking over again where I had last left it and realized that it was on the table where I had been with Mr. Hummel.

Just as I swing the door open, I hear a loud crashing THUD.

The door I just swung had collided into something and I could hear a group of men scream “Watch out!!!”

I see two mean-looking men peeking at the other end of the door looking helplessly as the box they were carrying drops to the ground.

“Shit! That was the Winged Victorian Angel!”

Oh no. I remember from the news that this 300 year old museum artifact was meant to be raffled off as the grand prize at the IVC. It had been shipped all the way from the Louvre in Paris as a gift from the newly elected French President to the United States. The proceeds of the IVC’s funding and the raffle were meant to help the victims of Typhoon Haiyan somewhere in the Philippines.

I quickly open the crate box and find the statue was broken in half and my heart just drops to my stomach in nameless shock.

I am way too shocked to even mutter an apology. Not only did I just destroy what might have been a National Treasure, millions of homeless Filipino children were going to starve and suffer.

“Hey, this was a very important piece that was going to be auctioned off.” The slim mean-looking guy barks at me, ignoring my shocked state. Did he just say auctioned? Didn’t he mean it was going to be raffled?

“How are you gonna pay for this?” Asks the Fat Meanie beside him.

“Uh…..Sorry?”

“You think an apology is gonna cut it? You owe us, bitch!”

The men reach out to me and….

……………..

And I find myself being auctioned off. The host of the eveing had just announce d that the next bid was me, a healthy fit young Caucasian American.

Is this even legal? I think as I swallow in fear hearing the bids knock from $2 million to higher. I got put up in place of that Winged Victory Angel.

The mere fact that someone just started the bid off at $2 million was unreal.

I could barely make through the crowd as everyone was wearing masks similar to the masquerade mask Fedora Hat had with him when his date dumped him. But somehow I felt with a sinking dread that the person who placed the initial bid was the Middle Aged Creep from before. Oh crap, is he really going to buy me? I definitely do NOT want that at all.

“$2 million, going once……going twice……”

I heard the announcer say that I’d be a slave, or a toy, or……God knows. This is horrible. I try to shake myself off this nightmare, but I know what I’m going through right now was just as real as everything that partook 12 hours ago.

Oh God, how did I get to this? I fall to my knees, hang my head in shame as I feel the tears well in my eyes start to overflow.

I start praying hoping that Charlie, or my Mom or Fran could find me before it’s too late…..

Just then….

The auction hall suddenly buzzes with commotion as the announcer stops from closing the deal.

“Seat number 100 with a bid for $20 million cash.”

The crowd is drawn into complete silence.

I peer through the gates to look for 100, but whoever was bidding was not in the crowd. All I could do was stare up at the sum of the winning bid, completely dumbfounded as a bell sounds, calling the auction to a close.

“Sold to Seat Number 100 for $20 million. Thank you!!”

Someone bought me for twenty million US dollars?

My cage is carried over to the edge of the stage. As I get off, I’m greeted by two masked men. They weren’t the mean jerks from earlier but something about them looks vaguely familiar. One of them looked to be wearing a Fedora Hat.

Fedora Hat bought me? Before I even get the chance to ask, Fedora Hat in the mask grabs my arm and says” This way….”

Wait, what the heck am I being so nervous for? At least it’s Fedora Hat who bought me and not that Middle Aged Creep. But where are they going to take me now?

And who bought me?

I feel totally numb from this crazy situation that I don’t even notice that I’m brought up into the penthouse.

I gasp in marvel looking at my surroundings, knowing that out of all the hotel employees, only Charlie and a few other managers were ever allowed to come up here.

Wait, speaking of Charlie, does he even know about those weird auctions happening at the basement?

“We brought her, boss.” Fedora Hat announces to the man in the immaculate tux seated on one of the elegant sofas. Like Fedora Hat and the other man, he was also wearing a mask, but something about him looked made me sense that I’ve also encountered this man before. Even the other man seated beside him also with a shock of black hair was also wearing a mask also seemed vaguely familiar.

“Wait. You’re----“

“We bought you,” Mr. Hargreave says indifferently, removing his mask as if he didn’t even hear what I was about to say. The other man beside him followed suit.

“Guess we did end up seeing each other again,” the Asian Mafia guy remarks in the same casual, yet cold tone.

“You know this woman, Mike?” Hargreave raises his eyebrow almost as if in disbelief.

“You can say that.” He shrugs, not really giving a toss.

“Wait. You bought me? In that auction” I stammer, trying to still make sense of it all.

“He means WE won you, Alice.” Kurt Hummel corrects as I turn around in disbelief as he removes his mask as well.

“For $20 million, Princess. The boss must have it bad.” Fedora Hat grins as he casually throws his mask and lays it on the next empty sofa.

“M-Mr. Hummel?” I squeak, not sure if I was asking if Fedora Hat was referring him as ‘the boss’ or if I was just asking a reaffirmation that I knew at least another familiar but friendly face.

“Pffft!!! She doesn’t even know you’re name, Puck.” Kurt laughs.

“That because I didn’t have the time to tell her,” the man named Puck crosses his arms as if he were a pouting kid who wasn’t included in a game of tag.

“Isn’t this some form of human trafficking? I shouldn’t have even been up for that stupid auction in the first place.”

“Hey, anything and everything’s for sale at that auction.” Puck grins matter-of-factly, completely oblivious to the fact that I had stated it being against my own free will.

“Absolutely,” Kurt agrees. “You can buy almost anything there. Like stolen art, government secrets, and even hire a hitman!”

“That was last year, wasn’t it?” Puck asked as I noticed that he and Kurt were the only chatty ones in the group while the other two men watched silently.

“Anyway, this was the first time anyone was sold off in the manner of fashion you had earlier,” Kurt says tilting his head as if trying to understand what was really going on. “You must have done something really bad to put yourself up there, huh?”

“Well…….I accidentally broke the Winged Victory Angel….” My voice trails off and I realized that something wasn’t right here. Wait a minute, weren’t they just talking about selling black market things in a legal casino that by the way just happens to be in a highly publicized area? Was this even legal at all? “Who in the world would approve of these things? Do the police even know?”

“Well, to answer question number one. I did approve of it.” Mr. Hargreave says as if bored by this whole conversation.

“What?”

“If it’s worth anything, it’s here.” Hargreave scoffs and laughs coldly.

“Reckless as always,” Mike shakes his head. “This woman isn’t even worth anything.”

“Think about it for a moment,” Hargreave looks at me up and down as he folds his arms looking at me as if he were the predator toying with his prey. “Won’t it be fun coming up with ways to use her?”

“What gives you the right to decide that?” I ask exasperated.

“Who gave you permission to speak?” Hargreave asks coldly, merely raising an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Not another word unless I. SAY. SO.” Hargreave says, savoring the last three words, enunciating them slowly as if threatening me to not disobey him.

“If you’ve got a problem, we could always send you back to be auctioned off.” Mike sneers as if finding this even more amusing.

These guys are so scary. I’d rather die first than be sold off again.

I shake my head looking at both men, pleading them that I won’t disobey.

“Come on Boss……Mike……You two should be nice to the girls,” Puck quips, trying to lighten the mood, but honestly it fell a bit flat. Not that I’d feel better either way.

“We need to figure out who gets to keep her,” Kurt says, as if now he’s the one who was bored by the whole turn of the conversation. Though he acts as if he wants everything finalized, I get the feeling that he’s not entirely happy with the idea of having me for a slave. In fact, he looks rather…….reluctant. I’ve heard rumors that Mr. Hummel was gay, but I didn’t think now would have been the best times to actually confirm that. So instead I ask the second question that’s been nagging me.

“What do you mean, who gets to keep me? Didn’t you all buy me?”

“Yes, that’s true. But that’s really not your concern now.” Puck says. “If I were you, I’d choose me. I’m the only good guy here, so you can rest easy.”

“Says the world-famous thief and con-artist,” Elian Hargreave snorts derisively.

“Now, now Elian, you’re just trying to make Puck look bad.” Kurt says as if coming to his friends defense. “You’ve already got tons of groupies, why don’t you just play with one of them and let the rest of us have our fun?”

And to think I thought Kurt Hummel was safe because I assumed he was gay.

Guess again, batman.

“Mike Chang’s the one who could have his pick,” Hargreave threw a smirk towards the cool Asian mobster guy’s direction. “Women would do anything to be the lover of a Hong Kong mobster.”

So he really was part of the Mafia.

Who ARE these people? I’m speechless but I try to pull myself together and try to shake some last-minute common sense in them.

“Human trafficking IS illegal, you know. I’m going to report this to the police and I don’t care who you are.”

“You see a cop anywhere?” Elian Hargreave throws his head as if calling out to no one in particular. I follow his gaze and see a worn-out looking man standing by the window smoking a cigarette. He looks to be the older of the bunch, probably around 35 in age. Rather good-looking, in fact he sort of reminds me of that guy who plays a thief on TV except that he looks disheveled and hasn’t shaved in a week.

“Damn it, don’t just blow my cover like that,” he groans as if he didn’t even want to be a part of this conversation.

“Better now than later, right Detective Cooper?” Kurt giggles as if enjoying himself.

“Shut up, Hummel.”

“Oh, don’t be so mean. Just because I’m dating your brother doesn’t mean you have to be so rude.”

“Wait, you’re a cop?” I ask incredulously, ignoring the fact that Kurt Hummel just confirmed he was openly gay.

“Yup.” Apparently, the Detective spoke the fewest words possible.

I seriously CAN NOT believe that even the police are in on this.

“Well, it looks like we’re not going to reach a decision any time soon.” Kurt announces, really emphasizing on the obvious.

“Well Boss, at times like these….” Puck begins but Elian Hargreave cuts him off immediately.

“Right. I don’t want to waste anymore time.” Hargreave nods and stands up with Mike Chang following suit. All the men except for the Detective stand up and saunter over to me with Mr. Hargreave standing in the center of the group with his arms crossed looking down at me with cold eyes.

“Make a decision,” he says. “I’ll let you choose who buys you.”

---END---

Elian Hargreave. Be ready to hear more of another Hargreave, Elian was just the prototype of my OC in the next series of fanfics.

#glee #glee fanfiction #quinn fabray #voltage otome #otome guys #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb baba #mike chang #kurt hummel #noah puckerman #kbtbb ota

3 notes · View notes