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👻- 2 or 3 sentences from something you haven’t posted yet
“I tried to get in but your apartment’s empty.”
Eliott snaps his head up at that, feeling more awake than he’d been for the last few weeks.
“Maybe Lucas stepped out, just call him,” Idriss says, typing away on his laptop.
“No, it’s empty,” Sofiane insists. Eliott can feel the hesitant looks he’s throwing in his direction. “Landlord apparently ran into him and he said he’s gonna be staying at his parents’. And… he’s not picking up.”
Idriss’ typing immediately halts at that, and there’s a suspended moment of ringing silence between the three of them before Eliott surges up from the couch, socked feet landing on the floor with a hard thud. His dress shirt is sloppy and his pants are still creased from his afternoon nap but he doesn’t bother to check for presentation. He bolts around for his keys, his shoes, his jacket, all the while pressing Lucas’ speed dial on his phone with a surprisingly steady hand.
Hey, it’s Lucas. Can’t come to the phone, leave a message.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Eliott, hey, hey!” Idriss has abandoned his desk and is now standing in front of Eliott, forcing him to pause in his mad scramble around the living room. “I’m gonna need you to calm down, man, we know exactly where he is, alright?”
“No,” Eliott grits out, reaching past Idriss to twist the door open more violently than it deserves. From the startled look on Idriss’ face, Eliott can only imagine what expression would greet him in the mirror. “He doesn’t have parents.”
The parking lot is only a short jog away but fuck if it isn’t the longest distance Eliott has ever had to cross.
Hey, it’s Lucas. Can’t come to the phone, leave a message.
“Damn it.” His car roars to life and Eliott’s thankful that nobody else is trying to back up at the same time as him, otherwise he’s not sure if he’d be saved from causing an accident.
Hey, it’s Lu—
The steering wheel receives a harsh beating under balled up fists and Eliott vaguely registers that he does need to calm down or he’d get nowhere. He pulls over to the side before reaching the main road, leaning back against the head rest with his eyes closed.
It’s okay, Lucas couldn’t have reached too far. He’s probably on foot anyway.
His phone starts ringing then, and Eliott fumbles to answer, “Yes?” He knows there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that it won’t be Lucas but Eliott doesn’t check the caller ID in blind hope.
It’s Sofiane. “Dude, where are you going?”
“To the club, to the store, to the church, I don’t know.” Eliott would go and shake down Lucas’ usual spots until he sees his boy. “I need to find him.”
“You really think he’d go to places you know of? Maybe Idriss and I should look elsewhere?”
“He’s not hiding, Sofi.”
“How do you know?”
Eliott swallows, an image of Lucas’ last message appearing like a mirage before his eyes. “Because he doesn’t think I’ll be looking.”