“…the lead singer of a rising post-hardcore band, Pierce the Veil, has been missing for over a week. The body of Vic Fuentes has not shown up in San Diego, and authorities are considering expanding the search to all of Southern California. Also at a stalemate is the search for the prime suspect in the arson and plausible murder charge, Drew Sanders.” The local news station put up a rough sketch of his face, and I cringed away. “If you see this man, he is armed and considered highly dangerous, so do not approach him and contact your local authorities…”


I clicked the television off hastily. The way they barely even consider the fact that Vic could still be alive somewhere was despicable. “The body of Vic Fuentes…” What about him, himself? Didn’t anybody have any faith, anymore?


Well, I guess I didn’t have faith… how could you have any faith in a life where only bad things happened? Yes, I lacked faith. But I did, however, carry a sliver of hope; faith and hope were two completely different things to me. Faith didn’t exist. Hope was something that you could have, but it was also something that could destroy you if you had too much of it.


Four days had passed since we heard the forensics report, but we still didn't know what to think of it. Nothing made sense anymore.


We literally could do nothing. All we did was sit silently together, mourning the silence. Mike hasn't said a word in two days.


Spencer came home yesterday. It was nice to have her company, especially knowing that she was mostly better and completely innocent. The problem of our, let's say, mental breakdowns was quickly taken over by an even bigger problem. The hurt, the terror, and the insanity that I used to feel simply didn't exist anymore. I just didn't have the time or energy to deal with what had happened in the past. I barely had the energy to deal with what was happening now.


We refused to believe Vic was dead. He was gone, he disappeared, and we didn't know where, but he wasn't dead. He couldn't be. We would know. I would know. Right?


I rubbed my face in stress, sighing into my palms.


"Come on, Jaime," Spencer's voice brought me down from my thoughts. It used to be Vic who would pull me back into reality.


My heart’s so fucked up I can barely stand.


She tenderly tugged on my arm, indicting that it was time to go. We were going back to Mike's house to mourn a little more, maybe get a little wasted while we were at it. Who knows.


I nodded and stood up, and, together we made our way to Mike's house, which was a walking distance from our apartment. Spencer was oddly quiet. I mean, she has always been quiet, but the past few days she's barely spoken. It worried me, considering where she has been (mentally and physically).


"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" I draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. She was one of three people that I had left, so I made sure to savor every moment.


She shrugged her shoulders, but I notice the brim of her eyes had tears close to the edge, threatening to jump and fall.


"Spence," I stopped walking and turned her to me, placing my hands on both sides of her face.


"You'll get mad if I say it," she shook her head. My heart broke a little when she said that. I didn't want her to be wary of saying things to me.


"Spencer," I sadly whined a little. "Talk to me," I said softly. If there was one thing that was keeping us sane, it was us talking to each other. Without talking, the silence would fill our voids with terrible thoughts. The silence would ruin us.


"This is my fault," she whispered.


"No," I said fiercely. Not in a scary way, but a firm way. I pulled her into my chest and held her tightly. "No, Spencer," I said again.


"Yes," she moaned. "I told you I had a lot of baggage, Drew Sanders included," she sobbed. "It's my fault because I chose to stay with you guys despite figuring out that he was real and dangerous," she continued to cry. “I thought that I was safe in there,” she referred to the Mental Hospital, “because I thought he was in my head. And now he is real, and nobody is safe.” I didn't say anything, but I smoothed out the hair on the back of her head.


"Please don't blame yourself," I murmured.


"But I do, Jaime! You guys had perfect lives and a future until I came along and got you all involved in my shit," she cried.


"That's not true, Spence. You were going through a terrible time, and I'd like to say that we saved you. A beautiful girl like you didn't deserve to continue to live a life in fear," I said. "But it's more than that. You saved me too, which effectively saved the entire group. I need you. I don't know how or why we ended up together, I guess you could call it fate. We don't make sense, but there is a reason why we are in each other's lives. I refuse to believe it was random," I finished speaking lowly in her ear and I stood up straight again, having had to hunch to reach her ear.


"But Jaime," she sobbed again.


"Please stop trying to blame yourself. We knew exactly what we were getting into, and we aren't about to just let you go," I said. "We are in this together. Do you understand?"


She nodded weakly. I knew she wasn't completely convinced. I would have to keep a close eye on her; she was still thinking that she was a burden to us, and I was afraid she was still suicidal. Except, I didn't think she'd kill herself now, because she knew that her suicide was, although an easy escape, going to hurt me and the other guys more than Drew Sanders. I was far more afraid that she'd try to hurt herself than kill herself.


I chose not to tell her about how Drew Sanders had threatened me if I tried to "save" her, like Vic. I told the other guys to watch their backs, but I didn't want her to worry. Maybe I was a little scared, but I barely had enough room inside of my head to feel the feeling of fear anymore.


I held her hand tightly as we continued to walk to Mike's house. It was weird, referring it to as just Mike's house, but it was also weird to refer to it as "Mike and Vic's house". Everything was just... weird.


"Hey," we nodded to Tony who was in the middle of snapping open a beer.


"Hey, guys," he said solemnly. "Want one?" He offered us a drink.


I stuck my hand out, accepting the drink. Spencer shook her head; she wasn't much of a drinker to begin with, and I'm pretty sure she wasn't supposed to be drinking, anyway.


"Where's Mike?" She asked.


Tony nodded to the backyard. I peered over his shoulder to see Mike face down in the grass, a bottle of Jack in his outstretched left hand and, to my surprise, a lit blunt in his right.


"He's way gone already," Tony signed. "He's so wasted that he actually lit his joint today," he sighed again. For the past week, Mike would roll some weed but never actually smoke it, afraid of the lighter. He must be really intoxicated.


"Should we, like, help him...?" Spencer asked quietly.


"Nah, he's fine," I said, probably a little too quickly because he actually wasn’t fine. None of us were.


"I'm debating joining him," Tony said.


"Me too," I sighed. Lying face down in the grass sounded nice. Maybe if we lay there long enough we could sink into the earth forever.


"I could use a cuddle train," Tony slightly grinned. If this wasn't such a sensitive and terrible time, I would have laughed and called him gay. But, it turned out that I could really fucking use a cuddle train, too.


"I'm down," Spencer said. We put our drinks down and headed over to Mike.


Spencer laid down next to Mike, pressing her back against his right side. He flopped his arm around her waist. I did an almost-belly-flop, landing close next to her. She nuzzled her head into my neck. Tony plopped down next to me and I tossed my arm around his shoulders, dangling my hand there loosely. We probably all would have giggled if we weren't all so depressed.


It was nice just laying there silently. It was comforting. That was, until my throat tightened when I realized something.


One person was missing.


With a knife in the back and a grip on the grass, it’s cold. And I don’t want to be here.


~~~~


"Did you hear that?" Tony asked, his head poking up.


"Hear what?" I asked. My mind felt foggy. There was a small haze around us; we had been silently sharing the joint with each other, needing to decompress.


Mike groaned, rolling over onto his back. "The phone," he dragged out the word, pointing to the house. I was about to laugh and exclaim, "He lives!", but I stopped my baked self... too soon.



At least for a little while we could laugh. We were on a great high, but we also knew that it would hurt badly when we came back down.


“I’ll get it,” Tony peeled himself off of the grass and jogged into the house. I decided to go with him. Nobody every called this house, and, when they did, it was usually important.


He put the phone on speaker and then answered. “Hello?”


The other end was silent. “Wrong number, maybe?” We shrugged our shoulders.


He was about to hang up when there was a noise on the other end. We both leaned in, listening intently.


The other end made a muffling sound… heaving breathing… an agonizing groan.


“…M-mike? H-hello?” a weak and terrified voice spoke. My stomach dropped ten stories. There was only one person who’s voice that belonged to.


“Vic!” Tony and I yelled, panicked, into the phone.


“T-tony… H-himes…” he sounded disoriented, confused, and in pain. “H-help me,” he whined softly.


“Vic, where are you?” I tried to ask as calm as possible.


“I-I don’t know…” he moaned. “It’s d-dark…”


Before we could say anything else, there was another muffling thud and a heavy and painful sounding groan coming from Vic.


“Hello,” a new voice said. A voice that sent chills down my spine.


“I am sure you’re probably very concerned for your friend, Vic, here. Don’t worry, though, he’s only in a lot of pain,” Drew Sanders sneered, and, when he said that, we could hear a scream come from Vic in the distance.


I put my hand over my mouth in pure horror.


Drew Sanders spoke again, his voice piercing through my skull.


“Let’s play a game…”

Notes

Dun, dun, duuunnnn.

Your guys comments are killing me becaUSE WHY WOULD I EVER KILL VIC OFF. There should be a rule on this site saying: Do not kill any members of PTV. Besides, I have a special place in my heart for that man. Y'all were so funny though. I'm so sorry hahah.
But, now that we know he is alive, where IS he? And how much longer can he last? Jaime has to forget his problems in order to focus on finding him, but Drew Sanders is beyond sneaky and likes to play his games...

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