[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.”