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Luca was extremely kind and far too trusting, and was reaping the seeds of naivety that he'd planted due to his glaring lack of life experience. Currently, the Brasilero was revealing just how vulnerable he had become by caving in to the stressful situation he'd been placed in. Luca struggled to make sense out of the events that were piling up far too quickly, overwhelming him with the strangeness of his surroundings. As a male model, he was placed under a social magnifying glass. Not only did he have the pressure of peers to worry about, but the fickleness of the fashion industry.<br/>
<br/>
The tables could easily be turned on the new face in the industry, and not showing up for the photoshoot was an oversight that would reflect badly on his relationship with Elite Modeling Management and their clients.  Luca's thought process had been solely focused on his reputation,  because not only he had to earn back the money it had taken Elite to fly him to New York City, and his room and board . With the meager earnings he had left over from his photoshoots, he was trying to help his mother and little brother have the kind of lives they deserved.<br/>
<br/>
Luca had been wiring money to Brazil every month, so his mother could move out of the favela and into the middle class apartment to have a better life than living in the ghetto. Naturally, he was relying on the Tom Ford photoshoot, which wasn't an easy feat being as new to the fashion industry as he was. He worked his ass off for twelve hour days, using money he could have used for food to travel to and from his go-sees so he could be that much closer to his goal. Distraught, Luca had collapsed to his knees,  torso sagging in a heavy lean against Marcus' sofa with his legs folded under his body.<br/>
<br/>
His reddened face was tucked into the fold of his arm, only lifting with an incredulous expression to cast his teary gaze in Marcus' direction. His new friend made everything sound as though everything was normal, that they'd live in this self-made utopia he'd promised. Like a couple that were meant to be together without any conflict just because he said everything would be okay. Luca was starting to show signs that all was not well with Marcus' skewed mindset, only because he had ideas of his own that would definitely cause a conflict.<br/>
<br/>
<b>"NAO...it not okay. You not understand. I make money for doing the modeling. I help my family not be poor anymore. I give to my mother and little brother in the favela."</b> he muttered with an emotional edge to his voice.<br/>
<br/>
There was a lot Marcus didn't understand and probably wouldn't about how life was for his family in the poorest part of Brazil. With his father long gone, Luca was considered the man of the house. He didn't want to rely on anyone to do anything for him when he was fully capable of doing it for himself, however nice it was to not have to. He was expected to contribute something to improve the lives of his family, the $125 American dollars he sent home each month was worth 405.50 Brazilian real. Luca earned in a day more than what his mother could earn in a week of cleaning tourists rooms in the hotel.<br/>
<br/>
At first, all of the focus was on his family, and the work he was doing as a model and not the danger he placed himself in by trusting Marcus. The more he continued to explain to him how wonderful their lives would be together the more it dawned on Luca that he was in a cabin with a strange man he hardly knew.  He could only assume the worst when he lifted his head only to feel incredibly dizzy and slightly nauseated that he must have been drugged. He would have never agreed to this.<br/>
<br/>
<b>"What you mean by that, Marcus?" </b>he blinked, wondering what the hell he was talking about.<br/>
<br/>
Luca really needed his phone, and started to feel around in his pockets for rectangular shape of the iPhone. He couldn't figure out where he'd left it. <b>"Please Marcus, I need to find phone. I am late for photoshoot.  This no funny, seriously.  Please no joke with me." </b><br/>
<br/>
The pleading sound of his own voice was starting to make Luca's head throb. Something about Marcus' indifference seemed so wrong, very wrong. The lack of emotional affect emanated through the way Marcus spoke and carried out his actions, as if they were a rehearsed speech. Surely, Luca wanted to get to know Marcus, yes.  There was an attraction there that Luca could admit to. But what on earth was Marcus thinking by bringing him to this isolated place?  The combination of unnatural circumstances hit him all at once.<br/>
<b><br/>
"Please, Marcus. I must go home. I not live here, do you understand? Marcus, I like you. I want to know you, but no this way."</b> he begged him. His pleading was followed by a sniffle as he tried to break up the congestion  caused by his crying.<br/>
<b><br/>
"Please, you make me get fired, lose my job. You give me something. I feel sick, ehhh." </b><br/>
<br/>
Luca did become ill, but all he could manage to do was heave a little and produce nothing. The young man grew very quiet, letting his forehead rest against his arm so he could shield his vision from the quickly spinning room.</span></span>