“Seydi*”, a man in a suit of average height and small glasses, called out with his head bowed.

The man he was calling turned to him, looking up from his Omega watch.

“Your wife called. She has been calling nonstop, she said it was an emergency about Amir”.

The man with the omega watch, Ahmed Tahan, a very rich businessman was a towering figure. He frowned at the words of his assistant.

“Does this boy not realize I just got back from a trip?”, he says out loud, more to himself. Shaking his head, he turns away to leave the lobby.

“Push back my meetings”, he says to his assistant. 

As soon as the elevator doors close, he has his phone in hand to quickly call his son. From the first floor to his penthouse, he lets the phone ring and receives no answer. 

He growls under his breath.

“Hatha sabi*”.

When the doors of the elevator open, he doesn’t need to go far to look for his wife. She rounds the corner and throws up her arms at seeing him.

“Zawji al-Ghali*”, she cries, running over to him and grabbing onto his arms. 

“Our son is missing!”.

She buries her head into his chest, sobbing and repeating over and over, “Allahu Akbar”.

He brushes the top of her head gently, ignoring his own slight panic building in his chest.

“Amir is not missing Ya Habibati*. He is his own man, he can’t drop everything to answer when you call”.

She lifts her head up at him, hitting him lightly in the chest with a closed fist.

“He has not answered my call for a whole day! I am worried for my son! My only living son! He would not dare to give me heart problems like this”.

Ahmed wraps his arms around her, pulling her in close to comfort her but it doesn’t work.

“Have you spoken to him today? Or the day before?”.

Her eyes search his. 

“I will find him”, he smooths his hand down her back.

Looking over her, he spots his daughters who bow their heads in greeting.

“Nihad, come look after your mother”, he calls to the eldest. 

His wife looks at their eldest daughter, the look she gives the girl, freezes her in her place. She levels the same look at her husband.

“Ahmed. Our son is-”.

“Nihad”, he calls again, “take your mother to lie down”.

His wife looks away from him, toward the floor, getting a grip on her emotions. 

“I will find Amir”, he promises.

But his wife won’t look at him.

Pulling away, she takes the offered hand of her daughter and leads the girl away from her husband, not going to their room.

Ahmed sighs out loud. 

Pulling out his phone again, he heads for the elevator. It only rings once.

“Ali, pull the car back around”.

“Yes, Seydi*”.

“And send a message on the phone to Amir. tell him ‘this better not be his idea of a joke’ “.

It doesn’t take long for him to make it to his son’s place and to get in. But he takes his time walking through the apartment and calling out his son’s name. He goes through a second and a third time, even stopping to pick up clothes left on the floor and throw out food, hoping if his son is hiding somewhere, he will realize it is better to come out. But that doesn’t happen. 

He stands in the living room in silence for a bit, letting the situation sink in. From behind him, Ali speaks up.

“I’ve called him 13 times Seydi*. Not once has he answered or sent a text message back”.

Ahmed shakes his head.

“Where does he work?”.

“At a small restaurant… Owl Tavern, I believe”.

The elder man frowns.

“Let’s go there”.

Though the restaurant was not a run down place by any means, Ahmed still turned up his nose at it. 

“This is where he works?”.

It looked like a tavern but modern. Glass windows all over with vines hanging off the building and a large sign with an owl holding a cup from the 1500’s. 

“Yes, Seydi*. It’s known for their drinks that all have alcohol in them. Even their milkshakes and smoothies, served in replicas of cups from different cultures from over the years before the 1900’s”.

“He chose this place? It looks unkempt”.

He eyes it with such disgust. 

“Yes, Seydi*”.

Ali turns his head to cover his smile from the man, not used to seeing his boss so openly show disdain for a building. Especially since he was only here because of his son, he would never willingly set foot in such a place.

Even walking in, the elder man scrunched his nose at the smell of the food that was cooking. It turned his stomach. Ali took the initiative to walk to the counter when it became clear his boss would not take another step, he ignored a shout of protest from the person next in line.

He placed his hands on the counter and leaned in, smiling at the worker who eyed him warily.

“I need to speak to whoever is in charge here”.

The girl looked at her coworker who was preparing drinks, sharing her unease.

The girl by the drinks spoke up.

“Uhm, we can-”

“Hey asshole you cut the line”.

Ali turned his head, glasses flashing from the light reflecting off them, dropping his smile to level a piercing look at the man who interrupted.

A balding man with a beer belly poking out from underneath his grease stained shirt.

“Khenzer qaza* be quiet”, he looks the man up and down, before turning his head back to the young girl, “you could go without a few meals”.

The man took a step out of line advancing toward Ali. Ali turned his head to the side, listening to the man huffing and puffing. He stood to his full height and turned around slowly, keeping his hands to his sides.

“Listen asshole, I don’t-”.

“What can I help you with Sir?”.

Both men turned to look at the new person who showed up. A young man walked in, giving both girls a look. He looked at the balding man first.

“You being in here is because you said you wouldn’t get into fights Oli, you know that,” he looked over to Ali, “I can help you Sir”.

Oli scoffed, looking at Ali but walked back to his spot in the line, grumbling to himself.

Ali looked the young man up and down.

“You are a manager?”.

The young man smiled.

“I’m Cody. The manager is in the back preoccupied, he’ll be out momentarily but I can help you”.

Ali turned to look back at his boss who was eyeing Cody. 

Ahmed locked eyes with Ali and nodded his head. 

Turning back, Ali walked up to the counter and leaned in.

He pulled out a picture of Amir and held it up so Cody could see it.

“This is Amir Tahan. He is employed here. When was he last here?”.

Cody made a face at the picture.

“He was talking to Ace the other day but-”.

“Ace? Who is Ace?”.

Cody shook his head dismissively.

“A nobody. He’s not important”.

“I will be the judge of that. Who is Ace?”.

Cody looked a bit alarmed at the change in Ali’s tone.

“Just … he used to work here. He got fired a couple of weeks ago”.

“Why?”.

“Because he’s a shi- he’s not a good worker, he’s just lazy and weird”.

“Amir hasn’t been seen since this talk?”.

“Amir doesn’t like working here, he says it’s shi- crap- beneath him all the time. Ace wouldn’t have-”.

“Where does this Ace live?”.

Ali looked over his shoulder at his boss, who was now standing right behind him, having had walked over when Cody mentioned Ace. 

Cody jumped at the arrival, looking at Ali and then glancing between the two men.

“I can’t just give that out-”.

“I will pay”.

Ahmed pulled out his wallet just as the manager walked over, fixing his shirt.

“How can I help you sir, I’m the manager”.

He was trying to catch his breath.

“You have cameras, they work right? I want a copy of them from the day my son Amir talked to Ace”.

The man shifted on his feet, looking at Cody who didn’t look at him, too focused on the money the man was pulling out. His mouth dropped open at all the hundred dollar bills. 

“$1,000 should cover it?”.

The manager’s mouth dropped open as well. He looked from the money up to Ahmed, back down and up again.

He began to stutter out a response but Ahmed cut him off.

“I’m looking for my son and I don’t have time to waste in a place like this. This should more than cover any hesitation you may have”.

The manager nodded and took the accepted money. 

“I’ll go make copies”.

As he rounded the corner to go into the back, he locked eyes with another girl who was fixing her shirt.

The girl making drinks spoke up to the both of them.

“Manny, your zipper is down. And Ty, you seem to have a spill on your- all over actually”.

“Focus on the drinks”, Manny snapped at her.

Ty wiped her mouth with some napkins, glaring at the girl who went back to making drinks like it was no big deal.

Amir looks around the room he was stuffed in and curses to himself yet again.

“This is fucking dumb”.

The room is not particularly dirty or small. It was bare of any personal touches but it was not a regular room. Shelves stuffed with boxes, a couch in the corner,a table with a record player, a huge map built into the wall just above the record player, a chair across from him and the chair he was sitting on. In the middle of the room, in front him was a metal pole sticking up from the ground. A chain was wrapped around it. 

He would have preferred to be chained to the floor but, his hands were cuffed to the chair, behind him. He could not stand without lifting the chair up as well and he would risk injuring himself if he tried to break his hands free. 

And worse yet, classical music was left blaring from the record player the entire time. He couldn’t hear anything outside the room, couldn’t tell when anyone was coming or close by.

And it was pissing him off.

Light flooded the room when the door opened. An old man came in, the only person he had seen since being in the room. 

The man gave him a once over. Walked over to the record player playing and turned it down.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?”.

“I want to get the fuck out of here”.

The old man turned around from the record player, leveling a look at Amir.

“Don’t look at me like that old man. My father will have your heads for taking me. And using a beautiful woman to take me is cliche. A true witch she is”.

“Watch how you speak about the young lady”.

“Young lady? She is-”.

“Amir Tahan”.

Amir looked over to the newest arrival. A man in a well dressed suit, looking over papers.

“Who. The fuck. Are you?”.

“That doesn’t concern you. You should care more about the fact that you were in a house that does not belong to you”.

“I told that woman I’m a friend of Ace! And she attacked me. She fucking hit me!”.

He took a breath, trying to relax so his hands would not pull on the cuffs.

“William has no friends. He would not talk to someone like you. He is-”.

“Like me?”.

He pulls against the cuffs, leaning forward.

“What about someone like me?”, he smiles.

“An attention seeking whore. A poor excuse of a son from a family such as yours”.

“Do not talk about my family. Saketelek*”.

The older man calmly looks at Amir. 

“William would not hang out with such a poor excuse of a son. You are beneath him”.

Amir yanks on the cuffs, standing up and immediately bending over from the weight of the chair.

“Beneath him? Ha! He’s a rabid dog in search of a home! No one to care for him! I have a family! He can’t even keep a job, he’s selling drugs to get by!”.

He falls face first into the floor when his legs are kicked out from under him.

“Aaaggh! My fucking shoulder!”.

The man in the suit walks over and kicks the chair over so Amir’s face is not pressed into the floor.

“William has more care in the world than you. Or else he would act like you. And he would never stoop to such a level to sell such things”.

“He fucking did! He asked me if I recognized some he found! Who the fuck just finds drugs!?”.

He begins gasping for air, trying to wiggle around.

The man frowns, looking back at the papers.

“William would never get into such a thing unless he was influenced by someone else. Someone out of control like you. Your father is wealthy and yet you do drugs?”.

Amir takes in a big breath, shaking his head.

“I don’t”.

“Yet he came to you with them? Why else if you knew nothing. You are not his friend”.

Amir manages to force himself onto his back. Better for his shoulder but his hands are now slowly being crushed.

He takes a few breaths.

“What do you want from me?”.

“I want to know if you are a danger to William”.

“I don’t give a fuck about him. He can burn in hell. But you will pay for this”.

The man kicks the chair over, forcing Amir back onto his shoulder. He ignores the shouts and promises of revenge.

Stepping out of the room, he calls out.

“Marks, call my son. Have someone track him down if he doesn’t answer within the hour”.

Amir calls out as the man walks out.

“What about me!?”.

“So Ace is William Jager?”.

Ahmed kept his eyes on Ace as he walked with Amir out of frame of the camera. 

“Yes Seydi. Son of Eric Jager. A rich German. He comes from old money”.

Ahmed keeps replaying the last moments of Amir with Ace before the two walk out of the restaurant and out of view of the camera. Then he looks over to a picture on a bulletin board beside the tv. A picture of the area they walked to, some tall bushes. 

“Was Amir trying to befriend this boy?”, Ahmed mumbles to himself. 

“If Eric Jager is like me, he won’t answer any calls unless it benefits him”.

He thinks for a second. 

“Arrange a business meeting”.

Ali looks up from taking time stamps of Amir’s last movements.

“Seydi? He works with cars, we work with-”.

“My own business is of no issue. My father sells minerals from the ground. Tell him we want to discuss selling minerals for car parts. This is the only information we know”.

He walks up to the tv and puts his hand on Amir.

“If my son is in danger, I will scorch the earth to save him”.