Hollow (Ianthony)

Disappeared.

Anthony pulled up to the Smosh house two days later. He’d only been back in California a day before he’d driven to Sacramento to work with Ian on a new Smosh video. Ian had still yet to answer any of his phone calls and texts, which upset Anthony greatly. He was terrified that something was wrong with him, but before he got too worked up, he decided to head over to the Smosh house and check up on him. 

To his utter relief, he instantly saw Ian’s car parked in the driveway. But what was strange was that it wasn’t in the garage. He didn’t know how much had changed since he’d moved out of the Smosh house, but when he and Ian had been roommates, they had always parked in the garage. 

Shrugging, the raven-haired man walked up the sidewalk to the house. He reached into his pocket for his keyring, but thought otherwise. Though he still had a key to the house and his name was on the deed, he didn’t live there anymore. Despite everything, this just wasn’t his house anymore. 

He raised his hand and knocked on the door. He waited, curling his toes inside of his shoes. After a few seconds of no response, he knocked a second time. Again, there was no answer. 

His stomach began churning as he knocked for the third time. When Ian didn’t answer the door, he dug into his pocket, taking out his key. He put the key in the knob and turned it to the right, letting himself into the house. 

“Ian!” he called out, seeing the empty kitchen, dining room, and living room. 

There was no answer. 

Anthony swallowed hard, creeping down the familiar hallway. The door to their editing room was open, but there was no sign of life in it. It was the same with his old bedroom, the bathroom, and Ian’s bedroom. 

Simply put, Ian wasn’t there. 

The twenty-six year old then began to panic. Ian hadn’t returned any of his calls or texts, emails or Facebook messages, or hell, even Skype calls, for over five days and now he wasn’t at home, while his car sat obviously in the driveway. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew to call’s number. 

“Hello?” 

“Melanie!” he exclaimed, “h-have you seen Ian?” 

Anthony heard her click her tongue in hesitation. He almost cried. “Melanie, please! He won’t answer any of my calls or texts and I’m at our house and his car’s here and he’s not and I’m freaking out!” 

She was quiet on the other end. “Our house?” she repeated. 

Anthony realized what he’d said and quickly corrected himself. “I-I meant the Smosh house. But seriously, Mel, where is he?” 

She sighed. “He’s okay, I promise.” 

“But where is he?!” Anthony demanded. 

“I’m not at liberty to say,” she replied, sighing. 

Anthony could feel his blood boiling at her statement and he clenched his fist. “You’re not at liberty to say? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean Ian made me promise not to say anything to anyone,” she retorted.

Anthony’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “B-but I’m his best friend...aren’t I?” 

She sighed. “You are. But I can’t say where he is or what he’s doing. Just know that he’s all right.” 

“No!” Anthony spat, “that’s not good enough. Where is he, Melanie? Tell me now!” He paused, breathless. And it was that pause that shined a new perspective on everything for him. There was a tear running down his cheek, as in, he was crying. Crying! Over Ian. It didn’t make any sense at all. The crying, the pain in his chest, the utter and complete apprehension over the absence and behavior of his friend. It couldn’t mean...

No, it wasn’t possible. He was married to a woman, for God’s sake. A woman he loved a lot. 

Right? 

Melanie’s long and drawn out sigh snapped Anthony out of his thoughts about Ian and listened for her reply. “Fine. But you didn’t hear it from me, okay?” 

He nodded, anxiously. “Yes, Melanie. Anything.” 

She paused once more before replying, “he’s at St. Joseph’s Rehabilitation Center. He overdosed on OxyContin last night.” 

PLOT TWIST! Lmao, thanks for the support I've gotten thus far. :)