After getting away from his cruel father's tyranny, Randall has to learn how to live again, and accept the person he was meant to be - with a little help of a local bartender...
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An empty shell is all what is left of twenty-five-yea...
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-Cole-
I was so worried over Randall that I couldn't really sleep well that night. After we kissed – twice! – he'd seemed surprisingly calm, but the fact that he wanted to go to bed early was alarming. He did say he was fine, and he did seem pretty fine, but...
I just had a bad feeling about it.
When the morning came, the first thing I did was go check up on Randall. His door was closed, so I assumed he was still asleep, especially since I couldn't hear any sounds coming from his room. I waited for a moment, but I couldn't hear anything. I nearly knocked on his door, but managed to stop myself. He probably wouldn't like it if I disturbed him just to make sure he was all right. He didn't really like that question, either.
So instead of bothering him so early in the morning, I went to make coffee before heading to take a quick shower.
I doubted I would've heard Randall opening his door if I wasn't always so neurotic about the sounds in my home. It wasn't the door I heard, but the draft that made my bathroom door let out a small banging sound when the air pressure changed.
I hurried to wash off the shampoo so I could go see him, to make sure he was still all right. And I just really wanted to see him.
But the bathroom door hit the frames again. Meaning another door had been opened.
"Randall?" I called out as I grabbed my towel.
He didn't reply, so I hastily put the towel around my waist and hurried out. The bad feeling grew only worse.
Randall's door was open, but he wasn't in the room.
"Randall?" I walked to the kitchen, past my living room, and couldn't find him. "Randall!"
I ran back to his room to check the bathroom, but nothing. He wasn't there. He wasn't in the apartment anymore. He wasn't in the goddamn apartment anymore!
I cursed loudly as I went to find my clothes, my heart suddenly racing in my chest. There was no reason for him to leave without telling me. Only one reason, and it was a very bad one. A really, really bad one.
The night when he nearly killed himself appeared in my head as I got dressed in my jeans and a hoodie as fast as I could. I didn't have time for underwear or socks or even a T-shirt. I grabbed my keys and phone and rushed out, yelling Randall's name all the way down to the street.
I couldn't see him. I couldn't hear him. He didn't reply to me, even if he heard me shouting his name at the top of my lungs. Where was he?
Please... This wasn't happening... Where the hell was he?!
I checked my bar, but it was still closed and dark. He couldn't be there. Next, I started running to his apartment, hoping to catch up with him if he was heading that way, but a few minutes later I arrived at the entrance of his building, and he still was nowhere to be seen. The door was locked. I had no means to get inside.
