Making up for lost time ~Hat Films Fan Fiction~

Chapter 6 - The morning after

Alex woke up to the sound of shuffling and a boiling kettle. Squinting his eyes open and letting them adjust to the bright morning light, he noticed his unfamiliar surroundings and sat bolt upright. 'Shit.' he looked around, spotting his clothes on the floor and a slim brunette woman in the doorway, 'Oh shit'. Smith quickly jumped out of the bed, grabbed his clothes and began to pull on his trousers, Rose chuckling to herself in the doorframe, "Morning." Checking the small metallic clock, it was almost 2 o'clock. Alex finished buttoning up his shirt, reaching out to find his phone he mumbled a, "Yeah, morning." in reply. Rushing to the door Smith turned around just before reaching for the handle, "Sorry," He shrugged, guilt and confusion written across his face as he turned back around to leave the apartment and call a taxi.

The journey home seemed to be everlasting. Alex desperately tried to get a hold of Ross and when he finally did, he was 10 minutes away from the house. "Ross mate, I've gone and... and I've screwed up." Smith sighed heavily. His stomach dropped, "Is Trott there?" Ross hesitated on the other line, coughing and mumbling words that weren't audible. "Yeah...No. He left like 3 hours ago said he had 'things to do'. I've called him like 3 times, but maybe we should leave him be for a bit, he was pretty agitated when he left". Regret, worry and sadness resided in Alex stomach, but at the same time there was hope. 'Was Trott angry because I slept with someone?' Smith smirked at the thought, hoping Trott felt like he did after the girl in Ikea. It quickly slid from his mind and instead was replaced with, 'He was probably angry because I got laid.' and similar, negative thoughts. "Fuck you Trottimus." Smith muttered. Ross chuckled at Alex's distress, finding it amusing how the two men chased after each other but neither of them ever seemed to notice or catch up with each other. "Just get back soon mate, I'm sure Chris won't be long." Smith just nodded and hung up. About 2 minutes away the taxi pulled up and the driver asked if Smith was okay to walk the rest of the way home. Alex nodded and began the familiar walk to the house.

"Where the hell is he? He's missed today's recording schedule, didn't tell us where he was going and now hasn't contacted us for 6 hours!" Ross yelled in a flurry of fast words. "I'm this close to filing a missing person report Smith," Ross made a pinching hand gesture, screwing up his face in frustration whilst pacing the length of the living room. Again raising his pinching gesture just centimetres from Smith's face, "This pretty fucking close Smith." Dread clouded Alex's mind, worry took over him and now Ross was complaining too? His mind was ablaze of frantic noise and panic. Alex stood up, grabbing Ross by the shoulders in an effort to calm him, and himself down. "Look, I'm sure a walrus couldn't get that far by himself" he chuckled, the laugh was so full of worry and guilt it leant no favours to the cheer up effort. Ross nodded and turned to walk away, "He wasn't that mad." Ross mumbled, in effort to cheer Smith up. Another hour passed by and neither of the men had calmed down, panic engulfing them both, 'What if he left? What if I've lost him again?' These words kept repeating themselves in Alex's mind, he was frantic, becoming desperate and could see that Ross wasn't too far behind.

Falling down onto the sofa Ross let out a sigh, "Mate we're getting nowhere here, let's call him again and if no one answers lets just call it a night and hope he's back by the morning." Alex grimaced but slowly nodded. Ross was right, what could they really do, they didn't even know where Trott was headed. He could be staying with a mate. Or found a girl. Smith shook his head and forced himself to concentrate on Ross whom was phoning Chris. This time the phone clicked through and was answered with heavy and rugged breathing. "Trott? Chris mate is that you?" Ross panicked over the phone, "Mate it's almost 10 o'clock where in the blazes are you?" The painful breathing continued, followed by a cough, "Help me, please." Trott whined, his voice crackling with tears, "I'm... I'm near the corner shop," He murmured. A high pitched noise rang through Alex's ears. The rest of the conversation was lost in a guilted haze. The next thing Smith could comprehend was running. His feet hit the floor at an unwavering pace, he just had to find him, he wasn't going to lose him again.

Reaching the corner shop, Alex's head snapped around quickly, scanning the surrounding area for Trott. His heart beat heavily and nerves twisted his stomach. Straining his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit ally Smith moved towards a rusted back fence. A small, broken body lay half propped against it, legs folded inwards, it was as if someone had crumpled him up and thrown him away. White noise engulfed Smith. 'No, it can't be. It isn't, how could it be?' Taking slow steps, he reached the body that now became familiar. Chris' eyes miserably looked up, blackened and swollen. Reaching forward, Alex tumbled besides him, slowly sliding down the fence behind them. He could tell from the look in Trott's eyes that he was drunk, but most of all scared. He looked tired, both physically and mentally, unable to sit himself up he just led there, broken, a small hand clutched just below his rib cage. Red oozed out of the fibers of his grey hoodie and stained the pale man's hand. Tears dripped down Smith's face, "You idiot" He choked. Trott smiled sadly, coughing and spluttering at his attempt to speak. Chris lifted his hand closest to Alex and rested it delicately on his cheek. A gentleness so caring and full of love it was almost ironic in their current situation. He stroked a thumb across Smith's face leaving a smear of blood, "I love you" He slurred, a mixture of tears, alcohol and longing hindering his voice. Alex shook his head and placed and hand over Trott's, "And I you" He smiled, but it quickly turned into a sob of desperation, 'how on earth could this happen? Trott simply hushed him and reassured him everything was going to be okay. Then he slid down, his head crushing against the bottom of the fence, eyes tightly shut and body still. Lifeless.

"Trott?" Smith whispered. No response. "T-Trott mate, come on wake up," Smith chocked out, carefully grasping Trott's shoulders and gently shaking him. "T-Trott?" No response.