[Not the exact prompt. This was my first assignment for my Intro to Fiction class at PVA, so I ran with it. And, if you know who these characters really are(Tyson and Sergei are replacement names), you need to keep your mouth shut. I love you <3 have fun.]

“I’m not an _actor_, Sergei, and you goddamn know it,” I seethe, eyes wide in the darkness of the ballroom corner I had ducked into. “If you make me talk to _anyone,_ I will personally blow this whole place up and make you work with Jack every single day of your life for the rest of forever.”

Sergei’s mouth twists into a frown, but his eyes crinkle with amusement. “So mean, Tyson. Not like they are going to eat you,” he says, brushing an invisible speck of dust off of my shoulder.

“Just- oh my god, okay,” I breathe out in a rush, looking over my friend’s shoulder at the high-life folk puttering around talking nonsense about the upcoming auction. I cannot believe I am so enraptured by a guy who can’t clock it when he sees it. “Tabloid reporter, dog statue by the main entrance.” Sergei looks over, and sure enough, there’s some young, bright nobody scribbling on a tiny notepad. “Another by the bar,” I continue. “If I slip up and say something stupid, they _will_ find out by the horrible power of tabloid journalism, and it _will_ end up in the_ _news,_ _and I _will_ be_ _fired_. _Got it?”

Sergei tilts his head slightly. Which means that he’s just ignored everything I just said.

“Я не глупый,” he replies gently. “Хочешь, чтобы я говорил, я буду говорить. Но тебе нужно остаться.” _I’m not stupid. If you want me to talk, I will talk. But _you_ need to stay._

__

“No. No! You don’t need me here. We have comms, they have cameras I can hack, and you don’t need me to follow you around like I'm lost.”

“Okay, Tyson,” Sergei says, folding his hands in front of himself, and _oh no_ he’s about to do the thing. The stupid, absurd rant that absolutely should not work, but-

“You are going to leave and somehow get past security,” He starts, and I immediately groan and scrub my hands over my face. “And I’m gonna get myself lost in this ridiculous mansion, and then I’m gonna get shot_,_” he continues, ticking off his fingers, “and stabbed, and maybe even kidnapped_,_ and then I will DIE, and it will be all your fault because you’re being a pussy.” I scoff at that. “Come on, Tyson. Just once. I promise nothing will happen.”

I sigh. It’s one of those long, heaving exhales that parents always use with their kids. 

“And if I say yes?”

“I won’t kill anyone.”

I drop my face into my hands again.

“Hmmph,” I mumble, unbelievably swayed by Sergei’s awful attempt at convincing me.

Everybody’s seen this part in movies. This looks like several bad decisions, and I’m about to make them.

“You’re the worst,” I sigh, and Sergei’s face lights up with glee. “Let’s go.”