Alexander Emerson • 28 • Heterosexual  FC: Sam Claflin • TAKEN

People were simply fascinated the mystery that came with him.

When Alexander Emerson stormed to the NYPD and demanded that he be handcuffed and placed in a cell, many assumed he was insane. Others would argue he was simply idiotic. He was currently training to be an escape artist, but he’d never had the pleasure of performing in front of a crowd. His face was plastered on poster after poster; Alexander was constantly being recognized due to his parents’ fame, never his own. Alexander was a petty street magician, seemingly inexperienced and dreadfully unpopular. Maybe he was doing something wrong.

Alexander tried to hide his disappointment, but to no avail. He was hoping they’d somehow be more enthusiastic to see him. After all, he was the son of New York City’s soon-to-be mayor.

Within minutes, they’d patted him down for anything he could possibly use as his advantage. To Alexander’s demise, they began stripping him of his clothing, leaving them in his boxers. Alexander suppressed a grin as they slapped the handcuffs on. “This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been handcuffed,” he joked, hoping to coax the female officer into smiling.

He’d been given one hour, simply to escape from the pair of handcuffs along with the cell. A crowd had formed around the cell, and inmates from across the hall craned their neck to watch the infamous Alexander Emerson make a complete fool of himself. If it were any other trick, Alexander would have enjoyed the amount of attention he was receiving; however, he believed he would be more comfortable without the eyes of two dozen cops burning into him. Besides, he liked to keep people guessing.

So he waited. They’d promised him an hour and he was completely content. He only needed five minutes. Within half an hour of watching Alexander stumble around, many lost interest. They snorted and scoffed to themselves, claiming he was nothing but a joke. The crowd soon dispersed. Leaving Alexander alone was possibly the worst mistake they could have made.

Once all eyes were off of him, he began. He’d escaped using a bobby pin he’d been keeping in his mouth and a small tension wrench in his boxers. Extremely ridiculous, yet clever, Alexander had never expected the reaction they gave him. Pride filled him as he made the realization that he’d outsmarted the higher authority. He slipped his clothes on in a frenzy, hoping he could slip out without being noticed.

They had so easily convinced themselves it was impossible, which made it all the more easy for him.

Alexander had fully escaped in roughly fifteen minutes, and immediately regretted it once two officers escorted him to an interrogation room. The once fearless young man frowned as they snatched him by the arms from behind. Dread filled his senses, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were one step ahead of him. Once they reached their destination, they pushed him into a chair before plopping down in front of him. He swallowed thickly as they placed a tape recorder on the table and pressed play. “Enlighten me, is this necessary?” he frowned, motioning to the tape recorder. “I highly doubt anything I say is worthy of your time.” Alexander slammed his palms on the table, in both fear and frustration. He was harmless; they had no reason to contain him.

"This is bullshit."

His panicked reaction only fueled their curiosity more.

Where are you from? Have you grown up in New York all of your life or are you temporarily visiting our fair city?

The young man crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, almost as if he were a child. “I don’t exactly understand why this is important.” Alexander slouched down in his chair, hoping to avoid the situation completely. Reluctantly, he eyed the men in front of him. They impatiently ushered him to answer the questions. Alexander let out a defeated sigh and shifted uncomfortably. “Fine. I was born and raised in Philadelphia before my mother, Jenny Emerson, auditioned for Broadway.” He cocked an eyebrow at them as they attempted to suppress their surprise. “You heard me correctly; you might have noticed the resemblance.” He smirked confidently. “Or maybe you were mistaking me for Edward Emerson. You know, the politician?” He tapped his foot in frustration, hoping they would drop the interrogation as a whole. After catching their reaction earlier, he tried his absolute best to shake his nervousness.

What are you doing here? Are you studying in one of our universities or here to visit some relatives? Do you have a job or are you simply attracted to the lights and glamour?

Alexander propped his feet on the table as he glanced them over. He was reluctant to admit most of his success was due to his parents’ reputation. “I’m a street magician. But I do shows at the Apollo Theater on the weekends,” Alexander explained proudly, puffing out his chest as he did so.  “The lights and glamour was always my mother’s thing, not mine.” His face paled slightly, and he finally willed himself to slip his feet off the table. “But I suppose it comes with the territory of being one of the most desirable men in NYC.” He spoke so confidently of himself that it was almost startling. He was fully convinced people envied him, and the more he said it, the more he came to believe it. His cocky comments didn’t seem to rub them the right way, as Alexander expected. But he was unaware he was digging a grave for himself.

Any other activity we should know about? You’re not looking for trouble, are you? (Remember not to give everything away)

Alexander narrowed his eyes at them, his jaw tightening as the seconds passed. “Trouble? What exactly is your definition of ‘trouble’?” He shuffled the deck of cards in his hand absentmindedly. “You can’t just expect me to reveal my deepest, darkest secrets to you. I know I seem stupid, but Jesus,” Alexander bit the inside of his cheek as he watched one reach for his handcuffs. “I can escape them as easily as I did the first time; there’s no use.”

How would you describe yourself? And don’t tell us that you’re perfect. We know there’s bound to be something wrong with you. You’re here after all, right? (Answer should be at least two paragraphs, one for good traits, and one for bad)

Alexander scoffed in response to their words. “I think you know enough already.” He tore his eyes away from them, completely drawn to the cards in his hand. “I’d categorize myself as very ambitious and straight-forward,” he began, debating whether he was being interrogated or filling out a dating questionnaire. “I consider myself a lucky guy. I’ve been given a lot of money and an ungodly amount of power.” Alexander arched an eyebrow at them as he spoke. “I have to have an answer for everything, no exceptions.” He drummed his fingers against his jawline as he reluctantly made eye contact with them. “And I don’t look for trouble; it seems to look for me, actually.”

Pointing out his flaws had always been easy for him, but admitting he had them was different. “What can I say? I’m selfish. I like to work by myself. People…tend to meet me and run away in the opposite direction.” Alexander swallowed thickly, then forced a smile. “I’ve been called every insult in the book. I…dropped out of college due to lack of interest. I prefer alcohol over people and I haven’t spoken to my family in weeks.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “One might say I’m heading nowhere.” Disguising his discomfort was beginning to be increasingly easy. He shifted in the seat uncomfortably, begging to be released.

How is your home life? Do you like your family or are you excited to be rid of them? How’s your mom and your pops? Got any siblings? (Connections must be ran by the admins before they are canon)

He spoke quickly, the sensation similar to ripping off a Band-Aid. “My childhood was awkward and unpredictable. Having a politician for a father was a blessing and a curse. For a few months, he would use my magic as a campaign strategy. But my father’s a narcissistic asshole and eventually tossed me to the side when he realized I was no longer of use to him.” Alexander restrained himself from groaning as he spoke. He continued as if he’d had it memorized. “My mother…was always one to put her priorities in front of everyone else’s. She’s obsessed with beauty and has always wanted a daughter to smother. Despite being extremely unhappy, they still refuse to get a divorce.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke.

What do you enjoy doing in your free time? There’s plenty to do in the City That Never Sleeps, after all.

“You still have yet to tell me the meaning behind these questions.” He let out an aggravated sigh before speaking. “I like magic, obviously,” he smirked, joking to take the attention away from himself. “I hardly leave my apartment unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He didn’t mention he drank roughly twice as much as the average New-Yorker. “I used to write poetry as a teenager, but I grew out of it quickly. Magic…well, that was something else entirely.” Alexander’s eyes practically lit up at the mention of his “talent.” He thoroughly enjoyed the art of deception.

So tell me, lovely, is there any dirt under your fingernails? Do you enjoy a little buzz from time to time? Heavy drinker? How about drugs? And, of course, we’d love to hear all of the details of your sex life.

“I’m usually the one asking the questions,” he admitted, amusement flashing in his eyes. He grew more comfortable as he spoke. “I suppose everyone does. After all, all monsters are human.” Alexander spoke truthfully as he slouched over in boredom. Having strangers dig into his personal life was something he ought to have been used to. “I drink more than my father does. And I nearly over-dosed on drugs last year; it’s not exactly something I’d recommend.” Alexander cringed at the idea, then scoffed at their next question. “My sex life is absolutely none of your business,” he scowled, suddenly ashamed. His ears burned red as he drummed his fingers on the table. His sex life was practically nonexistent due to his over-sized ego, but he’d never admit it.

Are you in a relationship, darling? Tied down by the old ball and chain or are you flying solo?

Darling? Don’t you think we should go on a first date before you start calling me pet names?” Alexander joked, clapping his hands together. He’d gone from shaky to confident in a matter of minutes. “Marriage is a bit…far-fetched.” He cleared his throat awkwardly while he tried to hide the emotion hidden behind his words. “My parents married for publicity and I’ve never understood the appeal.” Alexander felt their eyes burn into him, so he smirked. “All of my friends have…families and spouses. But I see no use in tying down. I’m young; I might as well enjoy it while I can.”

Is that all? Anything else you’ve been dying to get off your chest?

Alexander doubled-over and laid his head on the table. “No, I…I think I’m done, thank you very much.” Relief flooded over him and the only thing keeping him from standing was his laziness. He rubbed his wrists, sore from the handcuffs he’d been wearing a few long minutes before. He was relieved their attention was no longer placed on him. “Thank God that’s over,” he complained, shoving the deck of cards in their face. “It’s your turn to amuse me; pick a card.”

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