Ryan looked at the crowd around him, all indistinguishable figures hidden in the shadows. Then at the well-shaped butt right in front of him. The stunning actress Ana de Armas glanced over her shoulder at him with her gorgeous eyes. A smirk played across her lips.
"Let's give them a show," she said. She winked and let her eyes drop to his crotch, adding, "Let's see what you can do with that big cock."
Ryan stared back into her lovely eyes, dumbfounded. He looked at the amazing body of the perky Cuban. There was only one thought racing through his mind.
How had this come to happen?
**********
2 MONTHS EARLIER
**********
Ryan stared at the letter in his hands. He turned it over but the backside was blank. The contents of the letter were strange; he didn't understand what it was about. Maybe the letter was not meant for him. He looked at the envelope; it had his name on it: 'Ryan Hosling'. He read it again.
"Dear Ryan,
Please accept this invitation to the yearly SCS Championship.
The bracelet accompanying this letter will grant you access.
See you on the first of April, 10 p.m.
Yours truly,
Scarlett Johansson,
President of the SCS"
He kept looking at that last part. Was this the world-famous actress Scarlett Johansson that had sent him a letter? Or someone completely different with coincidentally the same name? What was the SCS? It sounded like an organisation; maybe involved in sports since the letter talked about a championship. He'd have to look it up on the internet.
Inside the envelope, Ryan also found the mentioned wrist band. He inspected it closely. Engravings that looked like coordinates were present on the inside of the bracelet. A quick search and he found that they corresponded with a warehouse downtown. Delving a little deeper, he didn't find any company attached to the warehouse. Also, searching for SCS in combination with Championship or Scarlett Johansson didn't result in anything.
No matter, Ryan thought. Even if the letter wasn't actually meant for him, his interest was piqued. He wanted to check out this Championship event. He suspected the bracelet might actually give him some kind of VIP access.
He made a note in his calendar.
**********
THE PRESENT
**********
Ryan had circled the warehouse twice before he noticed the well-hidden security standing guard at a side entrance. Their black suits made them blend in with the dark surroundings. He walked up and flashed his wrist band, hoping it would be enough to grant him access without having to explain his way through. Lying wasn't his strength. A burly man gestured to the scanner beside the door. Ryan brought his bracelet closer and the scanner beeped. A green light appeared above the door. The guards blocking his way stepped aside. Ryan entered the warehouse without as much as a single word, something he considered a victory. With the door slammed shut behind him, he chuckled at his triumph.
"Too easy," he muttered under his breath.
Ryan's laughter died as he noticed the eerie silence he was surrounded by. The long corridor stretching before him was empty and illuminated by dim lights, some of them blinking on and off erratically. "Hello?" he called, surprised at the tremor in his voice. No answer came. Ryan hesitantly advanced. This had all the cliches of a horror movie. He kept going forward, following the twists and turns of the corridor. He went by several side-doors, but all were locked. Maybe he shouldn't have come, he thought as a streak of fear passed through his spine. It made his skin crawl. His steps echoed as he proceeded.
Eventually, after one last turn, he saw the end of the corridor. In front of two large doors, there was a woman waiting, partially hidden in the shadow cast by the dimmed light. Seeing someone put Ryan at ease. She saw him approach and exclaimed, "Finally. You're late. I was worried I had to go solo."
The woman walked into the light. Ryan blinked and processed her face. It was Ana de Armas! The gorgeous actress of Cuban descent took a nonchalant stance and gazed Ryan up and down. "Wait," she knitted her eyebrows and pouted her lips in a disappointed look. "I was told my partner was Ryan Gosling. You're not him. What is this, a last minute change? Who are you?"
"Uh-uh-uh," Ryan stammered, uncertain what to say at the bombardement of questions. "My name's Ryan Hosling. You-uh-you are Ana de Armas." Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Of course she knew her own name, idiot! He needed to say something else and blurted out, "I'm a fan." He went to hold out his hand.
"Incredible. Scarlett paired me with a fan? Just what I fucking needed. Where did she even find you?"
Ryan took his hand back, recognising the cringy gesture and convinced the agitated woman wouldn't shake it. He cleared his throat. "I've received this letter about some SCS Championship."
"And what did you say your name was?"
"Ryan Hosling, miss de Armas," Ryan said, resisting the urge to offer his hand again.
"Splendid," she rolled her eyes and shook her head in stupefaction. "Scarlett will be delighted an outsider has walked into her private event due to a typo. You know what you walked into?"
"Actually, miss de Armas, I haven't the slightest idea," he admitted. "I had no clue what the letter meant, but it was addressed to me. And it was signed by Scarlett Johansson, which piqued my interest."
"It seems she piques the interest of every man on Earth," Ana mumbled. "Let me inform you what we're doing once we walk through that door behind me--"
"Bloody hell!" The large swinging doors behind Ana opened and someone new approached. Commotion could be heard coming from the room beyond. Walking into the light, Ryan recognised the woman as the British actress Emilia Clarke. He blinked. Was it really her? Surely there was no way he would mistake some common girl for the alluring beauty that was Emilia. She was cursing and throwing hand gestures at the man to her side. Her accent was lovely to listen to. "For god's sakes, you weren't even properly inside yet."
"I'm sorry, Emilia," the man apologised. Ryan vaguely recognised him too, but couldn't quite put a name on him just yet. "I'm... You're just... It's..." He kept stammering, seemingly searching for an excuse. Ryan watched Emilia and the man as they walked by and disappeared down the corridor. Only then did he realise that he had seen Emilia Clarke in barely concealing lingerie. The man too had only had boxers on, but that didn't stay as prominent in Ryan's mind as Emilia. If only he hadn't been as hypnotised by seeing the actress, then he could've seen more of her figure.
"Eyes here, you're paired up with me," Ana said. "We're to fuck in less than a couple of minutes. Better have all your attention aimed at me."
Ryan stood frozen, unable to produce any words or even the simplest of sounds. What had she just said? Had he heard correctly? His mind must be playing tricks with him. Elated by the sight of Ana de Armas with her charming eyes and cute cheeks, and Emilia Clarke strutting by in lingerie, that was most certainly a possibility. Even more plausible was that he was having an extraordinary dream, bordering on reality. But that would mean he had also dreamt waking up, eating breakfast, going to the gym, answering some mails from work. No, it couldn't be a dream, right? He blinked a couple of times and breathed in deep through his nose, calming his emotions. "What is this event?" Ryan inquired.
"You really don't know anything about this, do you? Well, this is the Secret Celebrity Society Championship. It's an exclusive event for celebrities. We're paired up and perform for everyone else. Judges score the contestants and the winners receive a grand prize." Ana shook her head and placed the back of her hand against her forehead. "I don't know if I even should be telling you this or call the guards to escort you out." She ran her hands through her hair -- a divine image -- and turned around, muttering to herself, "But I can't lose in the first round again..."