David Collens

    I sigh as I click off my phone. 2:37 pm. I'm early for once -- which is bad because I hate waiting in the hot afternoon sun. A gusty sweltery breath leaves my mouth. I lean back on the wall next to the old Ship's Anchor, my favorite place to meet up with people. The Ship's Anchor was a pawn shop where anyone could find anything. Literally anything. I once found a real live emu in there. No, I am not kidding. I bought the emu.

    The sun beat down on the pavement in the little tucked-away corner, determined to turn everything crispy. It creeps up the sky as time passes. I sigh once more and check the time. 2:45 pm. When would Arwin get here? It's not like him to be this late. I scan the tables set out for the cafe next door to the Ship's Anchor. A man stands up and rubs his neck, looking bored. Me too, stranger. Me too.

    The man smirks and starts to leisurely weave through the tables, stepping over bags and legs. He walks with sure and steady steps like each one he takes has its own designated purpose. Something about his mannerism bugs me. I watch him, trying to find what is bugging me. Maybe it's because he seems to have so much purpose that makes mine seem like a blade of grass next to a towering tree. Gloomy thought. I eye him up. His attire is not thing special, just jeans, a grey T-shirt, and black shiny boots.

    My eyes land on his left wrist. A black watch is strapped firmly to his wrist, sleek and impossibly shiny. it wasn't sparkle overload, mind you, it was just really...shiny. The light slid off the smooth flat screen like water on an oily pan. And the screen, it was so flat. From where I could see it, it was almost as thin as a sheet of paper. Automatically, I searched for the Apple logo but surprisingly, if found none. Intreating. But I must be the new version of the Apple Watch, nothing else was that flashy.

    I stare at his face. Sharp nose, average face structure, boring brown eyes, blonde hair, and brown eyebrows. he must have dyed his hair. Strike two for oddity. I look back at his smirk. Something itched at me. He almost seems...familiar. No. That can't be it, I had never seen this guy.

    I purse my lips and thrust air out of them making them flap like horses' do. I looked away to a nondescript pebble and crossed my legs at the ankles. Arwin would say right about now that I am being crazy. He would probably be right. Speaking of Arwin, where was he? He usually wasn't this late.

    "David Collens."

    I look up. That man. He's talking to me. I eye at him, my brows furrowing. There's something off about him. Something I should know. First things first though. "Who are you? How do you know my name?" I feel like I should know who you are, I add in my mind.

    The man stops in front of me and crosses his arms. His watch flashes in the light. I wonder how much he paid for it. Thousands? Millions? Maybe billions? What is it about him that's so familiar?! He stands half a head taller than me and looks to be only a couple of years older. But the way he stands...

    "AKA. It does not matter how we know your name, Collens. You are in danger. If you are smart - which I know you are - you'll come with us quietly. We don't have much time."

    What? AKA what? What kind of name is AKA? A secret agent name? And danger? I search his face, confused and put off. How does he know me? AND WHY CAN'T I PLACE HIS FACE?! The corner of his mouth twitches up, like he's trying not to smile. If this is some kind of prank, it isn't funny.

   I mentally shake myself and narrow my eyes. "Why would I go with you? I don't know you! For all I know, the danger you're talking about is made up so that I'll come with you."

    Now the man does smile. Deja vu strikes me. His eyes glitter like he's laughing at an inside joke. Look, if you have to laugh, please let me in on the joke! "But you do know me, Collens," he says with smothered glee, "and I, you."

    Wait, WHAT?! It's as if the man knew something felt familiar to me! "Creepy." This is just crazy. I mock shiver, hardening my face and eyes. If I look tough, maybe he will go away. "Look here...AKA...leave now and never mess with me again and I won't bring the authorities running with my scream. If you don't, I will scream."

    The man's eyes twinkle. Seriously man, just share the joke. "Wise, but we don't have time for this. We need to leave."

    Okay then. I will scream. "Fine." I inhale, preparing to imitate a tornado warning siren. As I expected, the man lunges forward, hand outstretched to grab me. No thanks, I don't feel like getting kidnapped today. I throw myself to the side, but the man is ridiculously fast - come on! No one is faster than me! - and grabs my arm, pulling it behind my back painfully and clapping a hand over my mouth. There goes the screaming plan. I struggle and the man pulls my arm up a little more, sending pain shooting down my shoulder. Classic move. Effective, classic, move.

    "As much as I'd like to keep talking cryptically," I am almost positive that I can see a smirk on his face, "we're out of time. It'd be nice if you'd run with us because I really don't fancy dragging you while running for my life."

    Wow. I really am being kidnapped. This sucks. I growl at the irritatingly smug man. The sound isn't as threatening as I'd like it to be.

    "Better. Now, no screaming if you want to live."

    Woah, this guy's serious. A cupful of ice water cascades down my back. Okay, I'll come with you. The man had the audacity to grin, all smug and confident he has me. Well - you do. For now. He lets me go but keeps my arm in his vice-like grip. It really isn't fair this guy knows all my tricks. It's like he's my brother or something. Another man walks up next to Mr. AKA - grinning guy - and stands threateningly to the side in silence. AKA nods at ETC and says, "Let us depart."

    With two threatening abbreviations at my side, I am forced to walk at a brisk pace down Walkers street and beyond. I wonder where they're taking me and whether I can escape. While we're at it, why does the guy look so familiar because I am sure AKA isn't his real name. I sneak a look at him, studying his face. These must be very bad kidnappers or super good ones because they don't have masks on. And his face. It looks...it looks... Wait, is that my nose?!

    "In here." So, ETC speaks after all.

    AKA and ETC waltz into the New Hemisphere Theater as if they own the place, confident their fake names will keep them safe from the FBI. I bet there's an accomplice with the code name FBI. We skirt around the fringes of the crowd, the only standing people besides the actors. How come nobody notices us? Hello? People? I'm being kidnapped! Is Romeo and Juliet THAT interesting.

     Apparently, because no one makes a move when we step backstage, blatantly ignoring the "Staff only" sign. I sigh and glance at AKA. In this light, he almost looks like me. Actually...AKA. A.K.A.

    "OH!" A memory, blurry and very dusty, comes to mind. Realization hits me like a brick wall. A.K.A. Andrew King Anderson. The name my brother used whenever he went incognito. "AKA, aka your brother," he used to say. I turn on him, eyes wide. Still says apparently. "YOU'RE ANDREW!"

    My brother's name echoes down the hall.

    "Well...so much for undercover."

    Yeah, like you had to go undercover in the first place.