Kidnapped?
Title - Kidnapped
Author - unwritten_ideas
Rating - PG-13
Word Count - 2,531
Characters - Gackt, Jon
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - What if Jon really had been kidnapped...
Notes - Rui is one of the members of Fade. Beware the crack.
One minute he’d been walking down the street, slightly buzzed from a drinking session with Rui, but not drunk enough to be oblivious to his surroundings. It had been a calm and peaceful early morning in Tokyo and Jon had enjoyed the feel of the warm, spring fresh breeze on his face. The streets had been quiet but that was as expected, it had been, after all, that odd time that existed after the drunken salary men had made their way home but before they’d surfaced to go back to the office.
He had hummed a tune to himself as he walked and maybe that had been his downfall. The tune was something new, a vocal melody he’d been working on for Kings of Dawn but hadn’t quite been able to finish in time. Maybe he’d been too distracted to notice the black van that had been slowly following him down the quiet street. Maybe he’d been a little too buzzed to notice when it had stopped.
He had noticed the four enormous guys who had suddenly blocked his path, but by that time it had been too late.
Jon, despite his fitness training and toughness, could never have been a match for four guys working determinedly together as if the devil himself employed them. Jon hadn’t even had chance to scream for help before he had been roughly bundled into a black van and had a cloth smelling of something thrust under his nose.
The last thing he had remembered had been the first streaks of daylight that had begun to paint the sky.
*~*~*~
Jon’s first thought upon waking was that maybe, he’d drank more with Rui than he had first thought. His head pounded, the entire left side of his body was sore, and he couldn’t move either his arms or legs. It was a scary, but familiar feeling.
His second thought was that he must have crashed at Rui’s place. The room was pitch black but through the darkness, Jon could hear somebody approaching him. Rui had never been a fan of lighting, or anything else that cost him money, so Jon had become accustomed to stumbling around in the dark.
He realised that both thoughts were wrong, however, when a figure illuminated by candle light came into his view that was undoubtedly not Rui.
The figure’s face came into view but was still clouded by shadows to the point that it looked slightly unreal. It was also both familiar, yet unfamiliar. Jon closed his eyes and shook his head to try and discard the lingering cloudiness that fogged his brain and looked again. Closely cropped blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones and thick plush lips that were slyly smiling at him.
Had he struck lucky last night? Is that why he had woken in a dark room with his hands and feet bound? Whoever the beautiful, yet slightly scary, woman in front of him was, she appeared to have a fondness for rough play and bondage.
Jon liked that. He just wished he could remember how he’d become bound and sore, because he was certain it would have been wild.
“Ah, you’re finally awake.”
Suddenly, Jon was glad he couldn’t remember a thing. The voice that had spoken was deep, smooth and unmistakably male.
Exactly how much had he drunk last night and dammit, he was never, ever drinking again!
“Who are you? Where am I?”
The man ignored him. “You sleep for too long. That’s the first thing that we need to change. You should write that down.”
“What?” Jon asked, confused. “Change? What are you talking about?”
“You need to listen more. That’s the second thing you need to change. Write that down too.”
Jon blinked rapidly. “What the hell is going on? Where am I?”
The man placed the candle onto the floor next to Jon and disappeared into the darkness. Jon could still hear him though, shuffling around the room and singing a light tune to himself in a voice that Jon, even in his captive and confused state, had to admit was beautiful to listen to. Soon, the man was back with extra candles which he swiftly lit and also placed on the floor.
Jon could see the man properly now. He looked a little like…
“Gackt?” Jon asked.
“Hmm?” Gackt replied. “Is something the matter?”
Jon glared at him with a force that would make an ordinary man dive for cover. Gackt, however, merely smirked at him. “Is something the matter?” Jon repeated. “Something? Try everything. You kidnapped me…”
“I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime,” Gackt interrupted.
“…I was having a nice night until your hired muscle snatched me from the streets…”
“It was so good of you to agree to meet with me.”
“…how many laws have you broken tonight…?”
“I hope my friends weren’t too rough when they gave you a ride. They can get a little over zealous.”
Jon shook his head. “There’s kidnapping, false imprisonment…”
“But anyway,” Gackt said, “on to the future! This is the start of something new and amazing for you.”
“…I’m sure there’s been some kind of physical abuse at some point…”
“Most people would kill for this opportunity, but you’re the lucky one who’s getting it!”
“..I demand to speak to the American Embassy!”
“I’m so glad you agreed to join my band. We’re going to make amazing music together.”
“This is going to be an international incident…” Jon paused. “Wait, what? Join your band?”
Gackt nodded. “Yes, I need a new member for my band and that’s you! Aren’t you lucky!”
“Lucky??” Jon said, barely keeping his anger under control.
“Of course you’re lucky. You get to share the stage with me.”
“You are crazy,” Jon muttered. “Is that why you kidnapped me, tied me up and threw me into this…” Jon glanced around the room, “whatever this room is?”
“Third kitchen,” Gackt answered helpfully. “There’s no reason to be so ungrateful.”
“You have three kitchens? Wait, don’t answer that. Just release me and let me go home and we’ll pretend this never happened. No police, no problems.”
“Of course you can go home,” Gackt said quickly. Jon sighed in relief. “Once the world tour is done.”
“What the fuck are you babbling about?” Jon exclaimed.
“We already have Europe and Japan booked and then it’ll be America… Asia… maybe Japan again. It shouldn’t take more than a year to go everywhere.”
“You’re going to keep me captive for a year??”
“Captive?” Gackt asked in a puzzled voice. “That’s a strange way of wording it. I prefer to say that I’m going to keep you in my band for a year.” He paused. “Hmm, maybe we’ll do a second album if the first is successful enough.”
Jon was fully alert now and he roughly jerked his arms, hoping that the restraints that held him weren’t as strong as he feared. His efforts resulted in nothing but sore wrists and ankles. He was held firm.
“You are insane,” Jon said.
“You should be nice to me,” Gackt said, “I’m doing you a favour. This time tomorrow you’re going to be more famous than you could have ever dreamed of.”
Jon stopped struggling. “What’s happening tomorrow?”
Gackt tilted his head. “I don’t know. I employ people to worry about tomorrow so that I don’t have to. But, tonight is when I introduce you to the world as my new band member.”
“You keep saying that I’m going to be your new band member, but I think you’re forgetting something important,” Jon said.
Gackt looked puzzled. “Hmm? I have your passport and other identification papers. The contract was signed while you were still unconscious and the chest wax is booked for an hour’s time. I think we covered everything.”
Chest wax? “You’re forgetting that I’m a singer, Gackt. You’re a singer. Exactly what is my role in this new band?”
Gackt looked at him as if Jon had just asked the most stupid question in the world. “You’re going to sing, of course. Stop asking stupid questions. In fact, that’s the third thing you should write down.”
“Stop asking me to write things down!” Jon shouted. “My hands are bound, how am I supposed to write anything down!”
Gackt considered this for a moment. “Well... it wouldn’t stop me! I’d be writing every word of this conversation down and memorising it. I wish someone had given me this opportunity when I was a pointless nobody.”
Jon screamed in frustration. “I am going to kill you when you let me loose.”
“There’s no need for violence,” Gackt stated sagely, “unless I’m the one being violent. We’re going to sing together Jon, as a team, and it’s going to be amazing.”
“I don’t want to sing with you,” Jon said.
“Of course you do, everybody does. I’m Gackt.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I’m starting to think that you don’t like me,” Gackt said sadly.
Jon stared at him. “Right now, I want to punch you in your pretty little face.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Gackt asked happily, “well, that will make things easier.”
Jon hesitated. He both wanted to ask… and dreaded the answer. “What things…?”
“The fanservice!” Gackt said. “You need to act on stage as if you want to fuck me. I know that shouldn’t be too difficult because hey, everybody does want to fuck me, but you’d be surprised how awkward it can be to show that in front of an audience.”
Jon closed his eyes and wished to every deity he could think of, and Yoda, that he would wake up from this nightmare, back in his apartment and with a crippling hangover. When he opened his eyes, he nearly fell backwards in shock. Gackt was hovering over his lap, his knees either side of Jon’s thighs as he closely stared at Jon’s face.
“Hmm, I wonder what make up will suit you best,” Gackt said thoughtfully. “You have nice eyes so we should do something with those. You need to moisturise your skin before you start touching me, though. My skin is very sensitive to cheap things.”
“Are you calling me cheap?” Jon asked.
“I wonder how you’d look wearing my gold, sparkling eyeliner,” Gackt continued. “Well, we have a couple of hours until the press conference so we can play with your make up a little.”
“Press conference?”
“How else am I going to introduce you to everyone as my new singing partner? It has to be a press conference. We’ve invited every media outlet in Japan. It’s going to be a media circus!” Gackt said with undisguised glee.
“You’re going to announce to the world that you’ve kidnapped me?!”
“Kidnapped? You do have some strange ideas. Stop doing that and write it down so you don’t forget in future.”
“How about,” Jon said slowly and carefully, “you untie me, and then I will write it down.”
Gackt sat down, his body weight coming to rest upon Jon’s thighs. “All in good time. I still need to get you dressed for the photo shoot.”
“I can dress myself if you untie me.”
“No, no. I can take care of that. You’re going to be shirtless for a lot of the concerts so I need to make sure that you won’t make my stage any uglier than Shinya already will.”
“This is a nightmare…”
“I think you mean dream,” Gackt said, leaning forward to tap Jon on the head in an action that was meant to be reassuring, but come across as patronising to Jon, “don’t worry. I always mix up nightmares and dreams too and just scream at both. Ask You-kun. But, you’ll soon discover that when we share a room in Europe.”
“I’m not sharing a room with you. You’re a psycho.”
“It’ll be fun! I can look after you, make sure that you’re coping with the pressure and we can do stomach crunches together.”
“You mean that you’ll be my personal jailer and stop me from escaping!” Jon exclaimed.
“And again with the ‘I’m an unwilling captive’ joke. You’re funny. I like you. Now stop it,” Gackt said seriously. “We need to prepare what you’re going to say in the press conference.”
“I get to talk?” Jon asked.
“Of course,” Gackt said. “We’re equal partners in this band. Sure, everybody will be there to see me and will want to hear me, but I’m sure they won’t be too evil to you.”
“If I get to talk,” Jon said, “I’m going to tell the world I was kidnapped and that I’m being held against my will.”
Gackt paused, his teeth worrying his bottom lip slightly as he stared at a point past Jon’s shoulder. After a couple of minutes of silence from Gackt, Jon finally realised that the slightly vacant look in Gackt’s eyes could be summed up as ‘thinking mode’.
It took another couple of minutes before Gackt spoke. “Maybe you should say that… It’d be a good angle for the press conference and will get people talking. Nobody will believe it of course, because I’m Gackt. Why would I need to kidnap anyone in order to make them do anything?”
“Can I ask a question?” Jon said quietly. Gackt nodded for him to continue. “Why didn’t you just call me and ask me to join your band?”
Gackt sighed in disgust. “Because that would take time. I’d have to call you, then we’d have to meet, your management and band would want to be involved, we’d have to discuss concepts and money and all of those boring things. No, just bringing you here and doing it all in one afternoon was a far more effective use of my time. I’m a busy man, Jon. I have songs to create, hearts to break and tweets to write. You should be glad that you’re getting this much of my precious time. You and Chacha have to make an appointment three weeks in advance just to say hello to me.”
“Lucky You and Chacha…” Jon muttered.
“Speaking of which,” Gackt said, rising to his feet as he quickly glanced at the iPhone that had been hidden away in the pocket of his jeans, “it’s time to say goodbye. I have an appointment with You now so that we can… yes…” Gackt coughed. “It doesn’t matter. See you later!”
And with that Gackt was gone, leaving Jon all alone in the third kitchen with four rapidly disappearing candles. Jon stared into the shadows and wondered how the hell he had found himself in this mess. He had met Gackt through a mutual friend a couple of years ago and become friendly with the man in his own right, but had never expected that he would one day be sat bound and imprisoned in Gackt’s house. Or that he’d be in a band with Gackt.
As he continued to stare into the shadows, Jon resolved that he would escape. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday he would get free. There was no way he was touring with that psycho singer, sharing hotel rooms and doing fanservice with him for a year. He’d break free.
He had to.
~owari
Notes
1) Dumb!Gackt is probably not as dumb as he's pretending to be...
2) I kinda want to do a sequel to this, full of Jon's attempts to escape and Gackt's increasingly crazy schemes to stop him from doing so.
Author - unwritten_ideas
Rating - PG-13
Word Count - 2,531
Characters - Gackt, Jon
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - What if Jon really had been kidnapped...
Notes - Rui is one of the members of Fade. Beware the crack.
One minute he’d been walking down the street, slightly buzzed from a drinking session with Rui, but not drunk enough to be oblivious to his surroundings. It had been a calm and peaceful early morning in Tokyo and Jon had enjoyed the feel of the warm, spring fresh breeze on his face. The streets had been quiet but that was as expected, it had been, after all, that odd time that existed after the drunken salary men had made their way home but before they’d surfaced to go back to the office.
He had hummed a tune to himself as he walked and maybe that had been his downfall. The tune was something new, a vocal melody he’d been working on for Kings of Dawn but hadn’t quite been able to finish in time. Maybe he’d been too distracted to notice the black van that had been slowly following him down the quiet street. Maybe he’d been a little too buzzed to notice when it had stopped.
He had noticed the four enormous guys who had suddenly blocked his path, but by that time it had been too late.
Jon, despite his fitness training and toughness, could never have been a match for four guys working determinedly together as if the devil himself employed them. Jon hadn’t even had chance to scream for help before he had been roughly bundled into a black van and had a cloth smelling of something thrust under his nose.
The last thing he had remembered had been the first streaks of daylight that had begun to paint the sky.
*~*~*~
Jon’s first thought upon waking was that maybe, he’d drank more with Rui than he had first thought. His head pounded, the entire left side of his body was sore, and he couldn’t move either his arms or legs. It was a scary, but familiar feeling.
His second thought was that he must have crashed at Rui’s place. The room was pitch black but through the darkness, Jon could hear somebody approaching him. Rui had never been a fan of lighting, or anything else that cost him money, so Jon had become accustomed to stumbling around in the dark.
He realised that both thoughts were wrong, however, when a figure illuminated by candle light came into his view that was undoubtedly not Rui.
The figure’s face came into view but was still clouded by shadows to the point that it looked slightly unreal. It was also both familiar, yet unfamiliar. Jon closed his eyes and shook his head to try and discard the lingering cloudiness that fogged his brain and looked again. Closely cropped blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones and thick plush lips that were slyly smiling at him.
Had he struck lucky last night? Is that why he had woken in a dark room with his hands and feet bound? Whoever the beautiful, yet slightly scary, woman in front of him was, she appeared to have a fondness for rough play and bondage.
Jon liked that. He just wished he could remember how he’d become bound and sore, because he was certain it would have been wild.
“Ah, you’re finally awake.”
Suddenly, Jon was glad he couldn’t remember a thing. The voice that had spoken was deep, smooth and unmistakably male.
Exactly how much had he drunk last night and dammit, he was never, ever drinking again!
“Who are you? Where am I?”
The man ignored him. “You sleep for too long. That’s the first thing that we need to change. You should write that down.”
“What?” Jon asked, confused. “Change? What are you talking about?”
“You need to listen more. That’s the second thing you need to change. Write that down too.”
Jon blinked rapidly. “What the hell is going on? Where am I?”
The man placed the candle onto the floor next to Jon and disappeared into the darkness. Jon could still hear him though, shuffling around the room and singing a light tune to himself in a voice that Jon, even in his captive and confused state, had to admit was beautiful to listen to. Soon, the man was back with extra candles which he swiftly lit and also placed on the floor.
Jon could see the man properly now. He looked a little like…
“Gackt?” Jon asked.
“Hmm?” Gackt replied. “Is something the matter?”
Jon glared at him with a force that would make an ordinary man dive for cover. Gackt, however, merely smirked at him. “Is something the matter?” Jon repeated. “Something? Try everything. You kidnapped me…”
“I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime,” Gackt interrupted.
“…I was having a nice night until your hired muscle snatched me from the streets…”
“It was so good of you to agree to meet with me.”
“…how many laws have you broken tonight…?”
“I hope my friends weren’t too rough when they gave you a ride. They can get a little over zealous.”
Jon shook his head. “There’s kidnapping, false imprisonment…”
“But anyway,” Gackt said, “on to the future! This is the start of something new and amazing for you.”
“…I’m sure there’s been some kind of physical abuse at some point…”
“Most people would kill for this opportunity, but you’re the lucky one who’s getting it!”
“..I demand to speak to the American Embassy!”
“I’m so glad you agreed to join my band. We’re going to make amazing music together.”
“This is going to be an international incident…” Jon paused. “Wait, what? Join your band?”
Gackt nodded. “Yes, I need a new member for my band and that’s you! Aren’t you lucky!”
“Lucky??” Jon said, barely keeping his anger under control.
“Of course you’re lucky. You get to share the stage with me.”
“You are crazy,” Jon muttered. “Is that why you kidnapped me, tied me up and threw me into this…” Jon glanced around the room, “whatever this room is?”
“Third kitchen,” Gackt answered helpfully. “There’s no reason to be so ungrateful.”
“You have three kitchens? Wait, don’t answer that. Just release me and let me go home and we’ll pretend this never happened. No police, no problems.”
“Of course you can go home,” Gackt said quickly. Jon sighed in relief. “Once the world tour is done.”
“What the fuck are you babbling about?” Jon exclaimed.
“We already have Europe and Japan booked and then it’ll be America… Asia… maybe Japan again. It shouldn’t take more than a year to go everywhere.”
“You’re going to keep me captive for a year??”
“Captive?” Gackt asked in a puzzled voice. “That’s a strange way of wording it. I prefer to say that I’m going to keep you in my band for a year.” He paused. “Hmm, maybe we’ll do a second album if the first is successful enough.”
Jon was fully alert now and he roughly jerked his arms, hoping that the restraints that held him weren’t as strong as he feared. His efforts resulted in nothing but sore wrists and ankles. He was held firm.
“You are insane,” Jon said.
“You should be nice to me,” Gackt said, “I’m doing you a favour. This time tomorrow you’re going to be more famous than you could have ever dreamed of.”
Jon stopped struggling. “What’s happening tomorrow?”
Gackt tilted his head. “I don’t know. I employ people to worry about tomorrow so that I don’t have to. But, tonight is when I introduce you to the world as my new band member.”
“You keep saying that I’m going to be your new band member, but I think you’re forgetting something important,” Jon said.
Gackt looked puzzled. “Hmm? I have your passport and other identification papers. The contract was signed while you were still unconscious and the chest wax is booked for an hour’s time. I think we covered everything.”
Chest wax? “You’re forgetting that I’m a singer, Gackt. You’re a singer. Exactly what is my role in this new band?”
Gackt looked at him as if Jon had just asked the most stupid question in the world. “You’re going to sing, of course. Stop asking stupid questions. In fact, that’s the third thing you should write down.”
“Stop asking me to write things down!” Jon shouted. “My hands are bound, how am I supposed to write anything down!”
Gackt considered this for a moment. “Well... it wouldn’t stop me! I’d be writing every word of this conversation down and memorising it. I wish someone had given me this opportunity when I was a pointless nobody.”
Jon screamed in frustration. “I am going to kill you when you let me loose.”
“There’s no need for violence,” Gackt stated sagely, “unless I’m the one being violent. We’re going to sing together Jon, as a team, and it’s going to be amazing.”
“I don’t want to sing with you,” Jon said.
“Of course you do, everybody does. I’m Gackt.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I’m starting to think that you don’t like me,” Gackt said sadly.
Jon stared at him. “Right now, I want to punch you in your pretty little face.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Gackt asked happily, “well, that will make things easier.”
Jon hesitated. He both wanted to ask… and dreaded the answer. “What things…?”
“The fanservice!” Gackt said. “You need to act on stage as if you want to fuck me. I know that shouldn’t be too difficult because hey, everybody does want to fuck me, but you’d be surprised how awkward it can be to show that in front of an audience.”
Jon closed his eyes and wished to every deity he could think of, and Yoda, that he would wake up from this nightmare, back in his apartment and with a crippling hangover. When he opened his eyes, he nearly fell backwards in shock. Gackt was hovering over his lap, his knees either side of Jon’s thighs as he closely stared at Jon’s face.
“Hmm, I wonder what make up will suit you best,” Gackt said thoughtfully. “You have nice eyes so we should do something with those. You need to moisturise your skin before you start touching me, though. My skin is very sensitive to cheap things.”
“Are you calling me cheap?” Jon asked.
“I wonder how you’d look wearing my gold, sparkling eyeliner,” Gackt continued. “Well, we have a couple of hours until the press conference so we can play with your make up a little.”
“Press conference?”
“How else am I going to introduce you to everyone as my new singing partner? It has to be a press conference. We’ve invited every media outlet in Japan. It’s going to be a media circus!” Gackt said with undisguised glee.
“You’re going to announce to the world that you’ve kidnapped me?!”
“Kidnapped? You do have some strange ideas. Stop doing that and write it down so you don’t forget in future.”
“How about,” Jon said slowly and carefully, “you untie me, and then I will write it down.”
Gackt sat down, his body weight coming to rest upon Jon’s thighs. “All in good time. I still need to get you dressed for the photo shoot.”
“I can dress myself if you untie me.”
“No, no. I can take care of that. You’re going to be shirtless for a lot of the concerts so I need to make sure that you won’t make my stage any uglier than Shinya already will.”
“This is a nightmare…”
“I think you mean dream,” Gackt said, leaning forward to tap Jon on the head in an action that was meant to be reassuring, but come across as patronising to Jon, “don’t worry. I always mix up nightmares and dreams too and just scream at both. Ask You-kun. But, you’ll soon discover that when we share a room in Europe.”
“I’m not sharing a room with you. You’re a psycho.”
“It’ll be fun! I can look after you, make sure that you’re coping with the pressure and we can do stomach crunches together.”
“You mean that you’ll be my personal jailer and stop me from escaping!” Jon exclaimed.
“And again with the ‘I’m an unwilling captive’ joke. You’re funny. I like you. Now stop it,” Gackt said seriously. “We need to prepare what you’re going to say in the press conference.”
“I get to talk?” Jon asked.
“Of course,” Gackt said. “We’re equal partners in this band. Sure, everybody will be there to see me and will want to hear me, but I’m sure they won’t be too evil to you.”
“If I get to talk,” Jon said, “I’m going to tell the world I was kidnapped and that I’m being held against my will.”
Gackt paused, his teeth worrying his bottom lip slightly as he stared at a point past Jon’s shoulder. After a couple of minutes of silence from Gackt, Jon finally realised that the slightly vacant look in Gackt’s eyes could be summed up as ‘thinking mode’.
It took another couple of minutes before Gackt spoke. “Maybe you should say that… It’d be a good angle for the press conference and will get people talking. Nobody will believe it of course, because I’m Gackt. Why would I need to kidnap anyone in order to make them do anything?”
“Can I ask a question?” Jon said quietly. Gackt nodded for him to continue. “Why didn’t you just call me and ask me to join your band?”
Gackt sighed in disgust. “Because that would take time. I’d have to call you, then we’d have to meet, your management and band would want to be involved, we’d have to discuss concepts and money and all of those boring things. No, just bringing you here and doing it all in one afternoon was a far more effective use of my time. I’m a busy man, Jon. I have songs to create, hearts to break and tweets to write. You should be glad that you’re getting this much of my precious time. You and Chacha have to make an appointment three weeks in advance just to say hello to me.”
“Lucky You and Chacha…” Jon muttered.
“Speaking of which,” Gackt said, rising to his feet as he quickly glanced at the iPhone that had been hidden away in the pocket of his jeans, “it’s time to say goodbye. I have an appointment with You now so that we can… yes…” Gackt coughed. “It doesn’t matter. See you later!”
And with that Gackt was gone, leaving Jon all alone in the third kitchen with four rapidly disappearing candles. Jon stared into the shadows and wondered how the hell he had found himself in this mess. He had met Gackt through a mutual friend a couple of years ago and become friendly with the man in his own right, but had never expected that he would one day be sat bound and imprisoned in Gackt’s house. Or that he’d be in a band with Gackt.
As he continued to stare into the shadows, Jon resolved that he would escape. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday he would get free. There was no way he was touring with that psycho singer, sharing hotel rooms and doing fanservice with him for a year. He’d break free.
He had to.
~owari
Notes
1) Dumb!Gackt is probably not as dumb as he's pretending to be...
2) I kinda want to do a sequel to this, full of Jon's attempts to escape and Gackt's increasingly crazy schemes to stop him from doing so.