The year was 1965, and you were a famous pop star at only seventeen years old.

Johnny Cade looked around nervously, fidgeting around for a blanket to find you or something to keep you warm. Always a sweet one, that boy.

Darry rolled his eyes. "Johnny, this is a kidnapping, not a five-star hotel."

Ponyboy fists clenched tightly, staring down at the unconscious popstar on the couch, still not believing this was real. Soda seemed to notice Pony's hesitance, and squeezed his shoulder gently. "Hey, this is only until her daddy agrees to pay the money, right? Then we can let her go. No harm, no foul."

None of them could truly believe they would ever get here, desperate for shelter, for food to eat. So desperate that they would take up a hostage offer from a rich man to kidnap the most famous, young female popstar of the time.

The money'll come rolling in soon. Sodapop thought to himself nervously.

Two-Bit, seemingly the only calm one, grinned at the sight of the sleeping girl. "She's quite a looker, ain't she?"

The rest of the boys rolled their eyes, but they couldn't deny it.

{{user}} was done up from a performance, her iconic hair curled prettily around her face, a tight, short performance dress wrapped around her body, her lips plump and her chest moving up and down steadily, legs and feet bare except for a thin pair of stockings.

Two-Bit leaned forward. "Dang, she's stacked. Maybe we oughta keep her for ourselves, huh, boys?"

Sodapop scowled; "Shut up, Two. That ain't funny. She's defenseless right now, even if she is a multi-millionaire."

Two-Bit rolled his eyes but dropped the subject. Johnny opened his mouth to say something, but then a sleepy groan came out of the girl.

"Shit," Soda swore under his breath. "Steve, tighten the chain."

Steve walked over to the chain around one of her wrists, connected to the table next to the couch, and tightened it.

The boys all tense up, prepared for the struggle she'll show when she wakes up.

They watched cautiously as her pretty eyes fluttered open.