- Monday, January 22nd –
Today, it's been two years.
Two years since Finnley first went missing and everything in our lives changed, for the worse.
It's also exactly two months since Finnley again went missing and I'm a wreck since there's still no clue about what happened to him after he got sold by Jeffrey to a guy called The Phantom, or Uncle Doe.
They're still trying to find Jeffrey, but he seemed to have vanished into thin air.
The biddings on me and the others went offline without resulting in trouble and that might have to do with the cops trying to get them offline.
The account Jeffrey used to sell Finnley is deleted and basically, Oliver has nothing to go after on the dark web.
We feel defeated, we feel useless.
And I'm currently in Finnley's room at aunt Cady's house, because I miss him so much I every so often go here to at least feel a bit closer to him, wherever he may be in this moment.
Just like now, just after Oliver and I had dinner with aunt Cady, Liv, Lara and Jason.
Oliver is having a teat party with Liv and Lara, while I went down here.
The room is practically left untouched since Finnley went missing. The cleaner does clean the room, but she leaves his books and his stuff in the same place. As if time stood still in here.
At first, whenever I laid down in the bed, I could still smell his scent. But by now, that scent is gone and all that is left are the clothes he wore but aren't washed yet; a sweater, sweatpants and pyjama pants.
If I hold the sweater, close my eyes and focus, I could almost, almostfeel the heat that his body left. But then I open my eyes, the sweater is just a useless piece of fabric and reality kicks in again. Finnley isn't here, and neither is his scent, nor his warmth.
His phone, his panic button and his laptop have been moved towards the room and are on his desk, also left untouched after being moved.
By now, aunt Cady gave me the keys that belonged to Finnley, offering me entrance to the house, his apartment and his car. The car I decided to use to drive around so that I don't have to rely on others to get around safely.
I'm swinging the desk chair from left to right, tapping the laptop while biting my lip, overthinking the possibility to snoop around on it.
Who knows what information the laptop holds.
But as I open it, I notice it's locked with a password and let's face it, the fact Finnley and I grew apart for a long time, before we got together, caused me to not know him as well as I did before.
The passwords I try all fail. None of his old passwords, or his former logic to come up with a password help me to crack the current password.
But maybe Oliver could.
So, I grab the laptop and stuff it into my backpack before I stare towards the phone. It's charged, the simcard is unlocked, but the phone is secured with a code too.
But as I stare towards it, again contemplating on asking Oliver to crack the device, I remember he once removed one of the texts I sent to Finnley. So maybe he just knows the code.
I put the phone in my pocket, getting up from my seat and taking a sad look around the room that I know Finnley loved, but hated so much in the same time. It was his ticket away from his parents, but it also meant he couldn't live with them anymore.
I know he missed his books that are, until this very day, are still in his room at his parents' house, but none of us felt the need to drop by and pick them up so far.
He isn't here to enjoy the books and the stories in it anyway.
I take in a deep breath and smile wearily. "I love you, Finny. And I will find you."
I don't know why I'm saying it aloud, since nobody is here to...
"And I'll help you." Oliver's voice sounds behind me and I jump in my spot.
"How long have you been there?" I hiss under my breath in annoyance.
"Long enough to see that you took his laptop and phone."
"They're charged, and maybe there's info on them," I tell him with a shrug. "I'll tell aunt Cady I took them and then we can leave."
He nods and follows me around the house, towards aunt Cady. We tell her about the laptop and phone, our plans to search them for any piece of information and hug her goodbye.
"Stop by soon, okay?" She cups my face. "And be careful out there."
"I will." I nod and hug her again. "Thanks for the lovely dinner."
"Your welcome, boys." She smiles and pecks a kiss on my cheek. "Say hi to your parents when you see them."
I nod, smile, and then follow Oliver outside and towards his car.
"So, you're going to hack into his computer? Or did you crack the code?" Oliver asks me nonchalantly, taking a seat behind the wheel.
"I figured you would know how to." I roll my eyes, knowing he's trying to tease me.
"Ask with a pretty please." He smirks smugly, and I sigh in response.
"I'm not in the mood, Oli." I whisper sadly. And he should know I'm always at my worst whenever I was in his room, or having dinner with his family, without him there.
"Right..." Oliver sends me a worried look. "Are the meds helping anything at all?"
"So far, they are useless." I shrug. "But it's only been two weeks. Doctor said it could take four to six weeks before they work. I should start feeling a difference in the next week."
"Okay, and you do realise you can't just drink massive amounts of alcohol with those meds, huh?"
"I do, but I don't know if I do care if it were to go wrong. I don't mind a black out..." Oliver slaps my head and I scowl, rubbing the spot at the back of my head. "Auch!"
"Promise me you'll keep the alcohol to a minimum. I can't go through the same shit again as I did with Finn," he deadpans in anger.
"Oh... Right. Sorry, I didn't mean I was contemplating on killing myself or something. I promise I won't go on a binge."
"And stay away from Danny, because the guy can be hella persuasive and he seems to enjoy persuading people who aren't allowed to drink, to drink."
"I only see Danny when you're present, so I guess that won't be a problem."
"And I'm going to warn all your other friends too."
"I'm not a baby, Oliver."
"Not in age..." he smirks, and I know he's done with the conversation, trying to joke about it to sweet it back under the rug.
"Sometimes I still hate your humour."
"Yet you keep hanging out with me."
"What can I say? You're a looker. I keep you around as eye-candy."
He laughs loudly, but I see the slight blush that crept onto his face. Yeah, mister Makenzie doesn't know how to deal with me when I'm innocently flirting with him. It's the one weapon I have to silence him, just like I did right now.
I smile proudly, leaning back in my seat while he overtakes a car on the highway.
My contact with Oliver changed, for the better. But we do every so often still insult each other. Which I don't mind nowadays, because I know he now thinks I'm a great guy, a great friend, and the best option for Finnley as a boyfriend.
And I couldn't wish for a better friend right now. Him, along with Stan, Nathan and Sam are my safety-net, and I'm part of theirs too.
* * * * *
I'm seated on the couch with my legs pulled up, arms hugging them close to my body, shivering in the cold air. Nathan wasn't home, so the heater wasn't turned on when Oliver and I arrived back home.
He's seated next to me with his feet propped up against the coffee table and Finnley's laptop on his lap. He ran the laptop with a USB stick that he grabbed from his backpack, and currently there's a program running to crack the password to Finnley's laptop.
We're staring at the numbers that indicate what percentage of the password is uncovered, waiting for the number to reach hundred.
I'm slightly leaning against Oliver and his fingers are rhythmically tapping on my upper leg, impatiently. Impatiently like he is, and always will be.
"Does it always take this long?"
"Not when they're really simple." Oliver shrugs. "But Finnley isn't simply, and neither is anything that has to do with him."
"Which is one thing we like about him, huh?" I chuckle awkwardly, knowing I hate it when I'm presented with evidence Finnley was way smarter then I am.
"It's annoying at times, really. But at least he isn't the type of know-it-all that I hate so much."
"Touché." I nod, agreeing with him in the same time.
"There we go." He pulls his hand away from my leg, leaving behind an even colder spot. But suddenly, we see Finnley's desktop, filled with tons of files.
I frown, since it's unlike Finnley to make a mess of anything, other than the way he keeps his books, scattered around the floor and piled against the wall.
His computer was always really organized, but now it's simply a mess.
"Okay, I need to grab another program and install it. But then we can search for specific terms and the program will present us files, pictures, anything that holds the term in it." Oliver hands me the laptop. "I suggest I'll do that, and you take a look at his phone. See if there's anything weird on it." He grabs the phone, his own laptop and another USB stick from his backpack. He unlocks Finnley's phone, showing me the combination before handing it to me. "Start with his agenda, see if he was still meeting up with weird people."
"I figured I could take a look at his texts." I frown, opening up WhatsApp.
"I don't think any of his conversations with friends would be helpful. We spoke to everybody he had contact with."
"That we know of, Oli." I click my tongue. "Any information is useful information, remember."
"Right." He smirks. "You do your thing, I'll do mine."
I nod, and scroll through the list of conversations, not finding any unknown names. None of the conversations seem to be about anything other then going out or school, so I shove the possibility aside that he had contact with wrong people via WhatsApp.
I go through his schedule, not finding anything weird in there either, before I open his old school text messages.
There's texts from his provider, informing him that he used up a certain percentage of his data, there's texts to tell him he has new voicemails. There's a text telling him a driver is on his way to deliver a package, and then there's a text that chills me to the bone.
'I'm coming for you.'
I stare at it in shock, shortly unable to move, but then opening the conversation. Finnley never responded to the number, but the texts have been coming in over the timespan of about two weeks. They begin on the 9thof November, and they stop at the 22ndof November; the day he went missing.
But as I stare at the initial text, it dawns me that on the 9thof November, I was attacked by Jeffrey and Emma. They stole my phone that day and I figure that they must be the ones who are sending him these texts. But then they're both named. The sender of the text talks about Jeffrey and Emma discussing ways to attack both Finnley, and me.
The text afterwards tells me that whoever is sending these texts is only interested in getting back at Finnley.
"Oliver..." I whisper, pulling his sleeve to gain his attention. "Look." I hand him the phone with the conversation and Oliver scrolls through them.
"These are the texts that made Finnley freak out." Oliver stares at them with a neutral expression. "It must be these texts. They started after your attack and he was stressing out over texts, but he refused to let me read them."
"You told me the day you took me to see Finn at his worst."
I expect a sneery joke but get no response at all. In any other case, Oliver would use the opportunity to ask me where I got to brains to remember, but there's nothing.
"What's wrong?" I mutter, leaning over to read along with it.
He's reading the first couple of texts, which I just scrolled through.
"Who sent these?" Oliver grumbles, tapping the screen. He points out a text that tells us the person wanted revenge for Finnley ruining his life.
The person tells Finnley he asked for it, he got what he asked for, and how he was weak and a cry baby for 'running to his mommy' for it.
How Finnley enjoyed it just as much as the person did and then I get a bad feeling inside the pit of my stomach.
"What if it's Sidney?" I whisper, taking back the phone. "That text about 'running to his mommy"? Finn only once ran to her when he was in trouble. All other things he kept hidden, he kept them a secret. That's why I was so surprised to find out what Finnley was doing whenever we weren't together. There's only one thing he suffered over, and that was Sidney."
"His abusive brother."
"Which could explain the mention of how Finnley supposedly 'enjoyed it' just as much." I feel sick and angry, but I am almost absolutely sure these texts are coming from Sidney.
"Let's run the number through the system, see what name comes up." Oliver grabs the phone, browsing to a website to search information behind the phone number. "If this is Sidney, he might be the one who helped Jeff."
And so, I allow Oliver to again do his thing, this time researching the phone number.
It comes up empty. It's a prepaid number so there's no information, other then how it was sold in Amsterdam. That's it, and it's not useful at all.
We decide on sending the information we found to the cops, not knowing if they already have this information, as Finnley's stuff was never confiscated by them for their investigation.
But that's what's tainting the whole disappearance of Finnley; for what it seems there's lack of interest from the police ever since Danny reported the information that Finnley was possible bought by The Phantom.
We all know by now that it's pretty much hopeless to find Finnley if Danny is right. But I can't give up hope, because I'm deeply in love with him and my heart yarns for me to hold him again. To see his smiles, look into those bright green eyes, ruffle up his sexy hair. To smell his scent, and to kiss those sweet, sweet lips.
I need to find him, even if it's the last thing I do.
* * * * *
There's a darkness surrounding me while a body of water swallows me whole and I can't seem to reach the surface; sinking further and further into the depths of what seems to be an endless one-way journey to death.
The fact I've been struggling because I'm running out of breath, not actually running out of breath is what frightens me most. I can't seem to stop fighting to swim back to the surface, but weight pushing down on me is what's keeping me from succeeding. I want to scream, knowing I will most definitely drown when I do so. I'm trying to free myself from whatever is pushing me down, but I can't seem to find the hands that do so.
I want to cry, but my eyes burn at the contact with the water that is surrounding me, as if for miles and miles without ever coming in contact with land.
There's nothing, just water. No land, no air, and as I feel my muscles grow weaker by the second, my head starts hurting and I'm out of breath. I grasp for air, knowing there won't be any, swallowing in the water.
My body is shocking, protesting the income of the unwanted substance, as my chest hurts, my lungs burn. A faint voice is calling out my name, but I hear the struggles of a person holding me down, overpowering the sounds, until the voice sounds closer, the feeling of being pushed down dissipates, and the water seems to vanish as a darkness surrounds me.
"Cristian! For crying out loud! Wake up!" Oliver sounds as if he's in full panic and I shock back into reality; coughing and gripping his hands that hold my shoulders, shaking me back to the real world.
I'm completely out of breath, grasping in the sweet oxygen that us now surrounding me in unlimited supply.
"Damn it, Cris." Oliver cries out, and I stare at him while still coughing and catching my breath.
Oliver has tears in his eyes, which shock me even more.
"What happened?"
"Damn it..." He breaths out, sitting backwards with his back against a wall, grabbing his head with both hands. "You weren't breathing... You stopped breathing."
I stare at him, unsure how to respond. "I'm fine, Oliver." I whisper unsurely.
"You're obviously not!" He gestures towards me. "What if I didn't go to bed this late? What if I was already asleep, or sleep at home!? Who would've woke you up, Cris?" He's full-on crying and it shocks me that my temporary respiratory arrest is affecting him like this.
"I don't know..." I frown, not remembering that respiratory arrests during my sleep have ever been a problem before. "How long wasn't I breathing?"
"You were grasping for air when I got in, and then you just stopped right before I was able to wake you up."
"I dreamed about drowning."
"You nearly actually drowned because of a dream," he snaps in frustration.
"Oliver, calm down. I'm fine. I'm alive. Don't worry, okay?"
"Don't leave me, Cris." He suddenly whispers with a cracked voice. "I can't lose you too..."
"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" I crawl towards him, pushing my head under his arm to snuggle my face against his chest. "But it would mean you would be freed from my obliviousness."
He snorts and sniffs bitterly. "I like your obliviousness." He whispers, putting both his arms around me, shifting in a way to allow me to cuddle up against him more. "I like you, a lot Cris. Don't ever leave me."
"I promise, I will never leave you by will."
"Not by will..." He huffs. "If anyone would ever take you away from me, I swear to god I will kill him or her."
I chuckle and smile, feeling grateful to have Oliver as a friend. It beats having him as an enemy, that's for sure.
But I grew to like him a lot too. And I really can't imagine not having him as a friend anymore.
And let's be honest here, I'm addicted to the affection we've been showing each other as of recently, because it calms me down to have someone I trust to hold me in a way that is different from the way a friend would hold me.
"I like you too, Oliver." I whisper, squeezing his body a bit to put some force behind my words. "Don't ever leave me either.
"I won't. I promise. I swear to my mother's grave."
"Yeah, because you really do like your mother that much and you would care if she would die."
"Hey!" He laughs out a bit, pinching my cheek with a hand. "Watch it, Mr. Evans. I may not like my mom, I don't want her to die. She did take care of us in some way. I like her more then I like dad."
"Right, right. That totally puts power behind it. Because liking someone more then you like your father means a lot."
He chuckles some more, before he sighs. "Don't you sometimes wish we could go back in time and change at least one thing about our lives?"
"Sometimes I do, but let's be honest. If I were to go back the one thing I wish I would've prevented, I don't think we would've ever met. You wouldn't know Finn, you wouldn't know any of us. And I simply can't picture my life without you in it."
"You know, you can be really sweet sometimes."
"I know, it's a secret I don't want a lot of people to know."
He snorts again, pushing me away with a laugh. "Idiot."
"Ah, boo, don't call me names." I chuckle too, and allow him to pull me back towards him, only to lay down with his arms around me. "Ready to sleep?"
"As long as you keep breathing..."
"I will. I seldom have a nightmare twice in one night. And with you next to me, I think I'll feel safe enough."
"Good." He murmurs, pecking a kiss on my neck. "Good night, Cris."