At His Satanic Majesty's Request

I woke up to the smell of expensive perfume. Whose perfume was that? There was nothing like that at the shelter but that’s because most of us were inclined to spend our money on drugs or liquor and thus didn’t have the change to buy Chanel. What was even weirder than the smell was the room I was in. It was soft yellow with dark wood floors, a cream coloured bed (complete with canopy), and a matching dark stained wardrobe. There were two doors, one in a corner and one in the wall to my right. Curiosity got the better of me and I got out of bed, heading for the one in the wall.

I was promptly greeted to a long hallway with doors upon doors. It was like some kind of upper class, historic hotel...or like some kind of hotel in a Stephen King novel. Everything was so perfect, so surreal. To say it made me uncomfortable and somewhat paranoid was an understatement. “Excuse me”, I called. A man pushing a cart at the end of the hall looked at me. He had messy blonde hair with sapphire eyes. “Can you-”

“Miss Reddington, it is improper for you to be wandering around in such filthy clothing!” The man cried. I blinked a few times only to be tackled by the man and shoved back in my room. I didn’t think my clothes were that bad-a flannel and jeans which I normally wore- but the man seemed to disagree. He also seemed to disagree on my name. He kept calling me Miss Reddington as he threw a blue sundress at me. My name wasn’t Miss Reddington.

“Mr. Styles would be very unhappy to see his fiancee in such a terrible state!” The blonde man cried.

“I have a fiancee?” I asked, hiding behind a changing screen.

“You and Mr. Styles have been engaged for quite some time. Didn’t you know?”

“I don’t even remember meeting him”, I mumbled. Maybe this guy was just a dealer and I was too stoned to remember buying from him.

“Well, he’s waiting for you down in the dining hall. You can reconnect with him there.”

That wouldn’t hurt. I could thank this guy for the apparently kick ass dope (since I couldn’t even begin to recall what happened yesterday) and the free clothes and go home. “Yeah, that sounds good”, I agreed, pulling on the blue thing. “What’s your name?”

“Horan...er Niall. Mr. Styles calls me Horan”, he chuckled.

I peeked around the screen at him. “I’ll call you Niall”, I smiled. “Can you show me the dining hall?”

“Mr. Styles will not allow it. I’ll call for someone. Just wait here.”

After I finished pulling the dress on, I plopped down on the bed. “I’ll...be waiting”, I shrugged. Niall nodded and left the room. Well, there went my adventure. Silently, I chewed on the inside of my lip while I waited for this other person. It felt like forever so I examined everything in the room, from the dress filled wardrobe to the brand new bathroom and it was fairly boring. I was a little impressed to find all the clothes fit me. It was a little weird though.

“Miss Reddington!” Called a voice. I looked up to see a blonde girl come in. “You can call me Taylor. I’m taking you to Mr. Styles. Any questions?”

“Do you work here?”

“Obviously. I’m Mr. Styles personal assistant. Second in command around here. You have questions, you come to us. Don’t talk to Horan. Don’t talk to anyone. We are yours.” The amazonian blonde handed me a small pager. “You need me, you hit this button. Understood?”

“Yeah, I guess-”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Yes.”

“Sure.”

“Yes.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” I questioned.

“Because you are to say ‘yes’, not ‘sure’, ‘okay’, ‘whatever’”, Taylor answered. “I’m here to train you to be the civilized lady Mr. Styles wants you to be...not whatever you’d like to call yourself. Now come.”

God damn, she was orderly. I followed Taylor, feeling like she was more bitchy than the woman who ran the homeless shelter. We wandered through magnificent halls until we reached stairs, which we descended, only to arrive in something like an entry hall. Taylor brought me to the double doors across from us and introduced me to a giant dining room with grandiose windows lining the left wall. A dark, curly haired man sat at the head of the table with a spot next to him.

“You’ve arrived!” He beamed. His voice was English and kind of wonderful, like listening to a good bass line in a punk rock song. I loved it. “Please, dear, join me!”

“This is your fiancee”, Taylor whispered. “But he’s still in charge. You make no joint decisions with him. He runs the hotel.”

“Hotel?” I asked, approaching the man I assumed was Mr. Styles.

Mr. Styles glowed as he pulled out the chair for me. “Yes. Styles Resort and Emporium. You’ll love it here.”

I nodded. “Uh...yes.” Taylor gave me a nod of approval before she was dismissed. Mr. Styles took his seat at the head again and began piling biscuits, eggs, and sausage on my plate. “Look man, this is great and all but seriously, what’d I do to get this?” I wondered.

“You were simply you.”

That was weird. “So um, how much do I owe you for everything?”

“Owe me for what?”

“You know. The dope. The clothes. A place to crash. I’m not leaving without paying you back with something-”

Mr. Styles’ face was enough to make me cut me off myself. “Ariel Reddington, you can’t leave”, he insisted.

“Look dude, I’m not an Ariel, nor a Reddington. You all have me confused with-”

“No! You’re my Ariel!” Mr. Styles insisted. “And I am your Prince Eric. We’ll live together like the Little Mermaid and her prince! We’ve been planning this for quite some time. Please don’t throw this back in my face, love-”

I stood up. “What the fuck? What? No. What do you mean planning this? And my name’s Kayla, not Ariel.”

Mr. Styles shot me a look. “We’ve been planning for a while, darling, and that’s all you need to know. And as far as you’re concerned, your name is Ariel. I’m Harry. We’re getting married next month.”

“I don’t even know you!”

“But I know you! And that’s something, isn’t it?”

“Something fucking creepy.” I stood up and bolted for the door but Harry was quicker. I hadn’t even reached the end of the table before he threw himself at me and used his weight to pin my back down on the table. “Dude, lay the fuck off-” He cut me off with a smack to my right cheek and I cringed. A stray lock of hair fell over his forehead, falling over wicked and wild green eyes.

“A lady should never speak like that”, he stated firmly. “Now Ariel, you’re to stay here. You belong here. We love you here, don’t you know?”

“I don’t like this-”

Harry smacked me again. “Women are like children”, he spat. “To be seen and not heard as they are too naive to make proper decisions. Now darling, I’d like to show you around today. That way you don’t get lost around the estate.” He let me up gently though it didn’t mean that much. My hip had hit the table pretty hard. “Look, your skirt’s torn”, he mumbled pensively. “Please have Taylor take you back to your room to change. I want you to be the prettiest, shiniest gem in the world.”

I glared and smashed the button on Taylor’s pager. She came prancing into the room, looking ready to tut her tongue at me as Harry released me. Taylor brought me upstairs and lectured me just like I thought she would while she searched my armoire. “And when Mr. Styles says do this, then you need to do it! Please Ariel, don’t make this harder than it has to be. We’ve been waiting for you for so long. Mr. Styles-”

“Taylor, please”, I whined. She turned around and I latched onto her, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist. The blonde’s mouth stopped running. I don’t know if I expected her to hug me back but I needed this. I was selfish for being given this awesome new life when everyone I knew was a homeless addict with their vices but what kind of dream turns out to be a nightmare? A nightmare where they can’t fucking leave and have to deal with someone as bizarre as Harry? I didn’t know him and we’re supposed to get married in a month? And then he fucking hits me?

“I...it’s alright, Miss Reddington”, Taylor mumbled, finally hugging me back. “I realize this is a change from Barbara’s boarding house. Just know...Mr. Styles loves you and will give you the world. All you have to do is respect him.”

“I don’t even know him and I’m being thrown into an arranged marriage I don’t even remember talking about”, I squeaked. Geezus Christ, my voice was breaking. Tears were coming. Why?

“Miss Reddington, you won’t want to remember that ‘life’”, Taylor said, trying to smile against my hair. “We will give you everything you never had. It is my duty to promise-”

“I don’t want your duty”, I snarled, ripping away. “I-I don’t know what I need but your fucking duty isn’t it.”

Taylor frowned again before handing me a pink dress. “Put this on”, she murmured. “Then I’ll take you to Mr. Styles.”

I sniffled but took the stupid frilly garment from her and pulled it on. Taylor tried her best to fix everything else; my makeup, my hair, wrinkles in the dress. Eventually, she put her hands down. “You look nice, Miss Reddington”, Taylor said. “Let’s go see Mr. Styles now. I promise you’ll come to love it here, just as you’ll come to love Mr. Styles.”

A quick glare was enough to make her shut up. “Yes”, I snapped sarcastically. We marched out of my room and while I was complacent with Taylor, that didn’t mean I wasn’t surveying everything in the house. There had to be an escape route. I mean, I came in one way right and what goes in must come out? Taylor and I might’ve entered a sea of roses but all I saw were the thorns I’d have to go through while I was here.

Every rose has its thorn and I was going to make sure Mr. Styles remembered that.

Notes