DREAMS PERSPECTIVE:
I'm going to a party with Wilbur and George. It's about 8:00pm, but before we walk in the houseparty, I pause them.
"Guys, you need to be looking out for me tonight,"I say.
"Pfft, sure, dude-"
I cut wilbur off, "no, seriously. You need to be looking out for me. Don't let me go home with anyone else, don't let me get too sloppy, just- just-- just look out for me."
WILBURS PERSPECTIVE:
We did not look out for Dream. I have no idea where he is. Im pretty tipsy, but I can still walk straight and comprehend everything. Im going into every room, looking for him. George is doing the same.
"Dude, where the fuck is he?" I say to George.
"I don't know, he's not answering his phone," he says. It's been an hour or so, the parties kind of died down now. It's really chill, so George goes around asking people where Dream is whilst I keep looking into rooms.
Eventually, George and I just had to leave, because we had no idea where he was.
DREAMS PERSPECTIVE:
I wake up to music pounding and the smell of doja and a lot of alcohol.
"Holy shit! He's awake!" A girl squeals, calling out to her friends.
I sit up in the bed I'm in.
"Where the fuck am I?" I mutter, wiping my face and moving my hair out of my face.
"Dude. We thought you died," a guy says, walking in. I know this guy! He's one of my good friends since a long time now. A highschool friend. His names Jack. He was the one who invited me and my friends to this party.
"Oh, god, Jack, I'm happy to see you. I know no one else in this room right now," I say, there's about 4 other people. Two girls, two other guys.
"Who's bed is this?" I ask.
"Danielle's," Some guy says, pointing to a girl waving at me briefly.
"Oh. Sorry," I say.
"No, no, no, we took you in here," she says. "You've been to, like, 10 different places over the past few days. You were super high." She says.
"Yeah, man. I've stayed with you the whole night. Same as Danielle. You went to the first house party, then I don't know what the hell you took, but you were out of it. At one point, I helped you walk down the stairs to get out, and I thought you were gonna pass out straight into my arms. Then, we went to some bar, got kicked out, went to another one, left that one to go to another party, then another one."
"Then, you actually did pass out. You were in the bathroom, cus you were saying you thought you'd be sick in a second. Jack and I took you to the bathroom, but as soon as you walked in there, you almost collapsed. Jack and I caught you. We took you up here, kind of just kept watch over you for the past three days. Two days ago, I didn't have a party going on, then last night, Some people came over and it turned into another party. You've been doing drugs and drinking for the past three days. I don't even know how many girls you hooked up with, what you took, how much you had, but it was fucking crazy," Danielle says.
"You haven't been sober since the first night."
"First night?" I ask.
"Buddy. The first party you went to? The one I invited you to?"
"Yeah?"
"That was three days ago."
I'm dead silent.
"This one. It's, like, 5 in the morning." Jack explains.
"Fuck," I mutter, rubbing my eyes. "Where's my phone?"
"Fuck knows," Danielle says. "We couldn't find your wallet either."
Immediately, I look at her.
"What."
"Your- your wallet-"
"Yes, I- I heard you- I have all my cards in my wallet, my ID, cash, everything."
"It's okay! Just cancel your accounts right now, go on your phone and-"
I cut Jack off. "I don't have my fucking phone."
"Shit."
GEORGES PERSPECTIVE:
It's 5am three days later, we still don't know where Dream is. But I get a call from Nick. I put it on speaker, so Wilbur can hear too.
"Hello?" I say."
"Dude, where the fuck is Dream?"
"I don't know," I say.
"What the fuck do you mean you don't know?"
"I mean, we lost him last night, I don't even know how. He was high, went off with his friends. We told him to be home by 12, he understood, and everytime I try call him it's like his phone is broken and it won't even dial. Why do you wanna know where he is?"i ask.
"Because I thought he was fucking dead."
I tell Sapnap I have to go, and I call 911.
"What the fuck are you doing-"
I shove Wilbur away.
"Hello, 911, what's your emergency?" A female operator says.
"Hi, I need to file a missing persons report."
JACKS PERSPECTIVE:
Clay has kind of been fading in and out of recollections, just zoning out and closing his eyes and laying back and then us having to wake him up. We don't know what to do with him.
"It's not like any of us have his friends numbers." Danielle says.
"Or even know who his friends in Orlando are. He's famous, he has mates from all over the place-"
There's three heavy knocks on the door. The type of knocks cops give. Immediately, everyone knows it's cops. Clay's fast asleep, so Danielle and her friends stay in there whilst everyone else in the house quiets down and hides any illegal things like drugs, or if they're only 20, they hide their alcohol, out of cops views. But I know how to handle cops.
I open the door, and step outside and close it behind me. There's two male cops.
"Hi, is there a problem?" I ask, looking around.
"Hi, sir, is there anyone in this area or have you seen anyone around here called Clay Cooper? He's about average build, around 6'1. Blonde, green eyes. He's to be declared as a missing person two days ago."
"Um- yeah, he's- shit, sorry, we had no idea who- he was a missing person. He's upstairs, he's asleep right now," I say, opening the door and inviting them in. Everyone at the party has immediately turned the music down, sprayed perfume, started relaxing, cleaned the house a teeny bit.
I take the cops upstairs, and open the door to the bedroom. The cops walk in, take a look at Clay, and nod to each other. One of them communicates to someone the radio, saying that Clay's found and he's safe, and to alert the people who filed the report.
One of them pulls two things out of their pocket. It's Clays phone and his wallet.
"I believe these belong to him." The cops say.
"Shoot, thanks. He was freaking out about where they were," I say, putting them on the bedside table. I expect them to leave, but they start looking around the room.
"Is there a problem?" Danielle starts.
"Is he high?" One of them asks.
Everyone kind of looks at each other.
"No. He's had a little bit to drink, that's it." I say.
"Okay. Well we will need to wait until he wakes up to test his blood to drug levels because a friend informed us he may have been high over the past three days."
"I can assure you, he hasn't-"
They cut me off, "we will have to test. It's part of procedure."
"And, sorry, but what procedure exactly is that?" Danielle says.
The cop slowly turns to look at her.
"Excuse me?" He says.
"What procedure exactly do you have to test for his drug levels?"
"When we get an alarmed phone call and it's about a missing persons report, we follow up on the victims past whereabouts since they went missing. The caller reporting Clay mentioned he was at a party three nights ago, and was taking drugs." One cop says whilst the other looks around. He picks a bong up from the corner of the room that was kind of stashed away. My heart rate picks up as he picks up something else, six ziplock bags of straight, ungrinded bud. It's at least 20 grams of it, which is the exact amount that can carry a $50,000 dollar fine. Especially if it's not medical, which, you guessed it, it's not.
"Whos is this?" A cop asks.
One of our friends immediately rats Clay out.
"It's his," he says, looking at Clay. Whilst the officers chat to each other, Clay wakes up. They don't notice immediately.
"Dude," I whisper. I nod to the cops. Clay looks over.
"Do I run?!" He whispers back. "Why- why are they here?!"
"Someone reported you missing. Then they found 20 grams of bud in here, one of Danielle's friends said it was yours. You're in shit, man," I whisper. Cops look over.
"Um, he's- he's up," I say. Clay sits up as they walk over.
"Seems like you've had quite the wild past few nights, huh, mate?" One of the cops says.
"Um. I guess-"
They cut him off, "you know you've been missing for three days. Haven't even attempted to contact anyone. We also suspect you've been doing drugs. Wanna elaborate on that?"
"Not really, no." Clay remarks, laughing. Danielle and I try not to giggle..
"I don't think it's that funny," one cop says. I glance at his badge. 'LEADLEY'.
"I kinda do. You've just accused me of doing drugs with no evidence."
The other cop holds up the ziplock bags of weed.
"That's not mine," Clay defends himself.
"Your pal over here says otherwise," Leadley says.
"I don't know half these people in the room. I only know him and her," he says, pointing to me and Danielle. "That dudes just trying to save himself," Clay says. He glances around, sees his phone and his wallet. He goes to reach for it, by the cop grabs it.
"Dude, that's mine-"
"Tell us what happened, then you can get it back."