Both hands and eyes both on the doorknob, Ryan pushes open the thick, sound-proof door of the amphitheater. The door half-open, he faces a big belly in a purple shirt. Before he gets a chance to slow down, his head bounces back after bumping into the belly. As his hand lets go of the doorknob, Ryan slowly turns his head way up. His stomach clenches when his eyes fall on the face of the huge man in the black suit. Judging by the dark sunglasses and the white earphone in his right ear, he must be a security guy. People in uniform would always make Ryan nervous, whether they are police officers, security guards, or even doormen. Given the shady things that he does, trouble is awaiting him at every corner.
But no one has ever been arrested for being a loser. Oh, damn! Ryan remembers the broken headset. There is no way he could pay for it. Could it be why the security is here? Nah. That cannot be it. They would not learn about it so fast. Ryan should just play nonchalant and sneak aside.
The door shuts behind Ryan and with that, the sound of cheers stops too. With silence reigning in the hallway, Ryan can hear the guard wheezing.
“Your name is Ryan?” Ryan hears the deep voice from behind. Awfully close to him stands another huge security guard who is not only dressed the same way, but also looks like an exact clone of his colleague. If this was a video game, some lazy coder had simply copy-pasted the source code for the guard character.
“No… Yes… I mean, yes. Why?”
“You’re coming with us,” the first guard says, grabbing Ryan by the wrist.
Ryan could just chop off the arm of the security guard with a swing of his lightsaber. Too bad they are not in the game. Or are they? Life is just a game anyway, only instead of laser guns, lightsabers, and robot hands, Ryan has only his wits to rely upon. “Think, Ryan, think,” he tells himself. You can handle two dumb elephants. Ryan turns back to the guard. “Look. It’s just a headset,” he says in a begging voice. “I can easily pay for it. It might not even be broken.”
“You’re coming with us,” the second guard repeats from behind.
“I just need to call my Grandma,” Ryan pleads, turning to the second guard. “She can easily get the money right away, by the end of the week max.”
“We can do it the easy way or the hard way,” the second guard growls. Lifting up his coat, he shows a gun holstered at his waist.
“Ouch,” Ryan cries when the first guard squeezes his wrist. “The easy way. The easy way,” he says while unsuccessfully trying to free his hand from the guard’s firm grip.
“He comes voluntarily, boss,” the first guard says while his other hand reaches over his white earphone. “Okay, boss,” he says and slowly walks up the hall toward the VIP rooms, dragging Ryan behind him.
“Listen, guys,” Ryan says, his voice tight. “Do we really need to bother the boss? I really think my Grandma could pay for the headset by the end of the month.”
‘Keep walking’ is all Ryan hears from the second guard, who pushes him on the back.