Notes

Ethan stumbled into the quaint Airbnb, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of Wi-Fi. His phone buzzed in his pocket, a silent protest against the digital detox his parents had forced upon him. The house looked like it had been plucked from the pages of a home magazine, with its shabby chic furniture and walls painted in calming pastels. The scent of lavender and vanilla filled the air, a stark contrast to the stale, recycled smell of the airplane cabin they'd just left. His mother's heels clicked against the wooden floorboards, her excitement palpable as she surveyed the living area. "It's perfect," she sighed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the plush sofa.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "We're in the middle of nowhere," he muttered, tossing his bag onto the floor. "How are we supposed to have fun here?"

"Oh, don't be such a grump," his mother chided, already lost in the sea of throw pillows. "Look on the bright side, we're all together and we can actually talk to each other without screens."

KallMeKris, the Airbnb's owner, breezed into the room, her auburn hair tied in a messy bun, a wide smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder, displaying her toned arm, and ripped jean shorts that ended just above her knees. The room seemed to brighten with her presence, and Ethan couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at her cheerfulness. "Hi, I'm Kris!" she chirped, her voice a tad too perky for his taste. She extended a hand covered in glitter nail polish. "Welcome to my little slice of heaven!"

Ethan's shock was palpable as he stared at her. This was the infamous KallMeKris, the social media influencer he'd spent hours watching and mocking with his friends back home. Her videos were a guilty pleasure, filled with tutorials on everything from life hacks to fashion, all featuring her signature use of duct tape. He'd always thought she was a bit much, but seeing her in the flesh was a whole different ball game.

"You're...KallMeKris?" he stuttered, taking her hand awkwardly.

"The one and only!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "How did you guess?"

Ethan couldn't help but chuckle. "You're kind of hard to miss," he said, gesturing to the glittering 'K' necklace around her neck. "I've seen your videos."

Kris beamed. "Oh, you're a fan! That's so sweet."

Ethan felt his cheeks warm. "Well, I wouldn't say that exactly. I've just...seen them around."

Kris's smile didn't waver. "Either way, I'm thrilled to have you staying with us. I'm sure you'll love it here," she said, her gaze sweeping over the room.

Later on, after his family had ventured out to explore the surrounding countryside, Ethan found himself alone in the Airbnb with Kris. He couldn't resist the urge to snoop around, peeking into cabinets and drawers to find out what kind of secrets a social media star might keep hidden. The kitchen was a minefield of duct tape rolls in every color imaginable, neatly organized in a basket on the counter.

"It's not a surprise," he quipped when he saw her, "you really do love your tape."

Kris looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. "It's a lifesaver, really. You'd be amazed at what you can do with it," she said, waving a roll of glittery pink tape at him.

Ethan snorted. "Yeah, like sticking your phone to your forehead or making a wallet that falls apart the first time you use it," he said, recalling some of her more questionable tutorials. "I can't believe people actually buy into that stuff."

Kris's smile faltered, but she remained composed. "It's all in good fun," she replied, her voice cool. "Some people find it helpful, others entertaining. And if it pays the bills, I'm not complaining."

Ethan shrugged. "I guess if people are into watching paint dry, then sure, your stuff is entertaining."

Kris's eyes narrowed. "You think my videos are boring?"

Ethan leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. "They're not exactly gripping cinema," he said with a smirk. "And I'm pretty sure that tape isn't as strong as you make it out to be."

Kris's smile tightened. "You think so?" she challenged, holding up a big roll of grey tape. "Why don't you put it to the test?"

Ethan's smirk grew wider. "Oh, I'd love to," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He stepped closer, his eyes on the tape. "I bet I could tear this apart with my bare hands."

With surprising speed, Kris whipped the tape around his wrists, securing them behind his back before he could react. "Let's see about that," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and challenge. Ethan's heart rate spiked as he felt the sticky embrace of the tape, but he couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You're joking, right?"

"Not at all," she replied, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that sent a shiver down his spine. "It's time you learned a little respect for the mighty power of duct tape."

Ethan struggled against the tape, his laughter turning into a grimace as he realized she had no intention of letting him go. "Okay, okay, I get it," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "You've made your point."

Kris stepped back, her arms folded across her chest as she surveyed her handiwork. "You're not out of this yet," she said, a smug look on her face. "Let's see how much you can handle."

Ethan's eyes widened as she reached for another roll of tape. "Whoa, now hold on," he protested, his voice losing its playful edge. "This is starting to get a bit much."

Kris just laughed. "Oh, you're fine," she said, her voice light and airy. "But if you insist on being a skeptic, I'll just have to prove to you how wrong you are." She stepped closer, the roll of tape spinning in her hand.

Ethan's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape or a weapon, anything to stop her from wrapping him up like a mummy. But before he could react, she'd peeled off her black Puma ankle socks and was holding them out to him. "Open wide," she said, a glint in her eye.

Ethan's protests died in his throat as she shoved the socks into his mouth, effectively silencing him. The taste of her sweat and fabric softener filled his senses, and he squirmed, his heart racing. Kris just chuckled, seemingly enjoying his discomfort. She reached for another roll of tape, her movements calculated and precise.

With the socks in his mouth, Ethan could only watch in horror as she approached him, the tape making a sticky sound as it unfurled from the roll. She wrapped it around his head, securing the socks in place, then began to wind it around his chest, arms, and legs. Each pass of the tape was tighter than the last, and Ethan felt his breaths become shallower, his movements more and more restricted. Panic set in as the reality of his situation hit him, but the sound was muffled by the thick fabric in his mouth.

Kris stepped back to admire her work, her smile never faltering. "There," she said, placing a hand on her hip. "Now you know better than to underestimate the power of duct tape."

Ethan's eyes bulged, and he tried to mumble a protest through the socks. His heart hammered in his chest, and he squirmed, trying to break free from the sticky bonds. The tape was unforgiving, and the more he struggled, the tighter it seemed to get.

"I'd stay still if I were you," Kris warned, a hint of amusement in her voice. "The more you move, the more you're going to stick to everything."

Ethan froze, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he took in the sight of himself. He was a living testament to her obsession, a human sculpture of tape. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, turning his thoughts into a frantic mess. He had to get out of this.