Author Games Compilation [Cycle 2]

Task 2 - Peter Bancain

Never before has Peter Bancain wanted so desperately to shove his face in a pillow and scream.

In these late hours of the night, he settles for a prolonged groan for his ears only, readjusting on the bed taking up the majority of the space in his cozy little cabin. His pant-leg scratches across the silky orange comforter as he tucks a foot under his knee. Atop that knee, his laptop balances, and he squints in close at his own half-edited footage. That's right, he thinks, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, just a little cut...here...

But when he clicks, an aggressive thump sounds against the wall behind him, followed by a series of smaller thumps, and his hand twitches, accidentally cutting out a solid ten minutes more than he meant to remove. "Fuck!" he yells, curling his hands into fists. He forces himself to take a deep breath, to count to ten. Then he clicks "undo."

He tries to get this done, he really does. He wants the video up by tonight - and yet, the moaning in the cabin neighboring his just won't stop. If he wanted this in his ears every hour of every day, he would've boarded Sunlit Sex or Sexy Seas or Gangbang Extravaganza - Ocean Edition. With several prolonged minutes more of the same background noise and hardened expression, he decides he's not gonna be able to focus.

He also decides he's not gonna let this stop him. In a swift movement, he springs to his feet and gathers up his camera. Soon enough he's in the corridor, knocking on the door of his busy friends. The moaning ceases; there's a rustle on the other side, some hushed mumbling; he taps his foot and waits.

Eventually, a man in a robe opens the door halfway, smartly blocking the bed. "Can I help you?" he asks, a tinge of agitation at the back of his throat.

Peter flashes his most charismatic smile and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. The other offers up the camera. "Yeah, no, I was just wondering if you needed to borrow my mic? I figure since you're being so loud with this porno you're shooting, yours must not be up to par, so you can use mine for the time being to get it all done and over with properly. Wouldn't want anyone to lose their voice over something I can help make better!"

The man narrows his eyes at Peter and, with an empty apology under his breath, closes the door with all the gentleness of a crazed bull. Still, Peter snickers at himself. Man, I'm great. And making the world a better place one less moan at a time.

He's sauntering back to his own room with a fresh air of confidence when he makes eye contact with a slender man marching his way down the hall. Even from here, he recognizes Lincoln and the Brown pin stuck to the lapel of his blazer, but the thin sheen of sweat on the man's forehead is new, as is the heavy-set frown and the creases sitting at the corners of his mouth. Peter's smile falls. "Hey, man," he calls out to Gardner, "you good?"

"Ask me in about three hours, and maybe I'll say yes," Lincoln answers, finally stopping in front of Peter's door. "There's so much going on right now I just- mmm. I can't be ten places at once and I was headed down this way anyways so I figured I'd stop and see if you were in, and if you told me the truth about your room number. I need you to do me a huge favor, Pete, and I'll owe you for it."

It's now that Peter allows himself a glimpse at the large metal case suspended in Lincoln's iron grip. He nods at it. "Is that the favor?"

Lincoln breathes a sigh of relief, likely from the realization Peter just did half the explanation for him. "It's getting inconvenient to have out. A man just got electrocuted, there's a fuck ton of crowding and chaos, I can't have this just sitting anywhere. So..." He sets the case down on the carpeting and fishes around in his pocket for something before offering it up. A key card.

Lincoln Gardner is giving him a fucking key card. Holy shit. Wait, did he say a man got electrocuted?

"All I need you to do is swipe into the private elevator, you'll know what it is since it's got metal doors, not glass, and take this down to the storage room. Third to last deck. Can't miss it. Can you do that? Please say yes. I might lay down and cry if you don't say yes."