-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.
"Randall!!" I yelled at his widows, but his apartment was dark, too.
What the fuck was I supposed to do? Where the fuck did he go?! Why did he leave so...?
I knew why. The kiss. I knew it had been bad. I knew it shouldn't have happened yet! I should've made sure he was all right and not left him alone for a second! I should've kept a close eye on him!
I guess I was making a lot of noise since the neighbors started waking up.
"What the fuck are you doing? It's seven in the morning?!" an older man yelled at me through a window on the second floor.
"Please! You have to let me in! My friend is really sick but I can't get into his apartment!" I yelled back at the man. "Hurry! He might be in danger!"
The man gave me a suspicious look and didn't reply to me.
"Please! His last name is Allen! You have to let me in!" I begged him.
"Give me a minute," he finally said.
"Please hurry!" I pleaded before running to the door.
The man came to open it as he promised, and I didn't waste a second. I ran all the way up to Randall's place and started banging on the door, shouting his name in desperation. He had to be there. Please... he had to be there...!
"Randall! Please let me in!"
The neighbor joined me a moment later.
"None of us has seen him around in a while," he spoke in a suspicious voice.
"He's been staying with me, but he left without saying a word twenty minutes ago. He's not well! I need to find him!" I told him as I continued banging on the door. "Randall! Please open up!"
"Are you sure he's there? I can hear it when someone opens the front door downstairs, and I haven't heard a peep in an hour," he told me. "I live right above it."
"Are you absolutely sure?" I turned to ask him.
"Positive – even the walls shake when the damn thing closes. I never miss it."
"I don't know where else to look," I told him, trying Randall's door one more time.
"Have you called the cops?"
"No. Not yet, I... I need to find him now," I told him, giving up on the door. "Thanks for your help."
"I hope you find him."
"So do I," I whispered as I rushed back down, picking up my phone.
I had no idea where to start looking. I called everyone I knew to come help me search for Randall. He was out of his mind. I knew he was. The kiss had been too much, after all. He was probably... No... He was stronger than that. He had to be...! He wouldn't... He wouldn't...
I'd only once been this afraid in my entire life. No, I was now even more scared than when I got stabbed. I ran around the city, searching for Randall at the gym, at his workplace, the park, the mall, everywhere. My entire staff came to help me, my friends, my family, and even the local search and rescue party came along after I'd called the cops.
I had to tell everyone that Randall was suicidal, and if they found him, they had to be careful not to scare him away. I had to let them know about his secrets so they'd understand how desperate the situation was. It had already been too long since he left my place...
And the time kept ticking. The minutes were passing too fast, turning into hours. Every second felt like torture. Two hours, three hours, four hours, and nothing.
I was losing my mind. My heart couldn't take the fear. I couldn't stop thinking that we would find Randall, but way too late. We'd wasted too much time. I'd wasted too much time. If I had been faster, I would've caught up with him when he left my place.
Why did I go take that shower...? Why did I not stay by him?
Four goddamn hours turned into five, and no one saw him. No one heard from him. No matter how many passers-by we encountered, no one had seen him.
Where was he?
What had he done...?
Was he...? No... He wasn't dead. He couldn't be... He had to be alive...!
He had to be alive and well. He was just... he was... For five hours? He would not go for a walk without me. There was only one reason he'd left my place.
...What had I done?
I should've made sure he was fine. I shouldn't have left him alone for a second. I should've stayed right outside his bedroom door to make sure he was fine! I should have turned away when he leaned in to kiss me. I never should've let it happen. He was not well, and I fucking knew that!
Again, I'd made a terrible mistake.
We'd find him dead.
We were going to find him dead. He was already dead. I knew that in my heart. I just knew. There was no other reason he had left my place that morning. The kiss had pushed him so far out of balance that... that...
I hated myself so goddamn much. I did this. He'd killed himself because of me. Because I was so goddamn stupid to kiss him back.
Six hours, and nothing.
Where was he? Where did he go? How could he vanish like that? Why had no one seen him? Where else could I look?
My heart felt like it was failing. My body was screaming in exhaustion and pain, and my voice was gone. I still kept searching. I kept encountering people who asked if I'd found him yet. Everyone in this city had already seen me running around, screaming that one name.
"Randall!!"
Where was he...?
Where was his body?
What had I done?