𝓛𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝓨𝐎𝐔 𝓓𝐎 | 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣

➥ 𝟎𝟐 ━━ 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

» [ like you do — joji ] «
0:48 ──〇───── 4:01
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𝓢𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄.

those three words rang through clay's ears like a police siren; irritating in a sense that you couldn't block out the chiming bell noise, yet terrifying in a way that you knew well enough that the sound only meant bad news. clay stared up onto the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom, barely acknowledging the way his body laid in a cold sweat as his perspiration made his legs to stick amongst his sweatpants like watered down glue. additionally, similar to a computer being overloaded, clay's brain felt the exact same sense of trounce. moreover, there is a finite processing capacity for when one's ability can fully process fear, yet clay and his mental state exceeded this volume as a panic attack of his rose once again.

it was a bittersweet feeling in a sense—the heavy rise and fall of his hyperventilating chest, the abundant scatter of thoughts racing through his brain, the flickering of his clover colored irises in hopes of finding an answer. the only thought that ran through clay's brain was: denial. the dirty blond denied the fact that his girlfriend, arielle, was missing. the boy denied the police interrogations that asked him for any input he had on the last night that his girlfriend was seen. the dirty blond denied the hundreds of dead voicemails he received when he tried to call arielle. clay simply denied it all—he told himself that arielle wasn't missing.

the dirty blond jolted out of bed, springing to sit upright amongst his mattress through the surge of thoughts that were growing to be overwhelming. clay ran his calloused fingers through his unwashed hair, permitting the oily strands to run thick along his padded fingertips. he grabbed the closest thing he could find, a rugged pillow laying beside his lap, and chucked the cushion across the pitch black room. paying no mind to the immediate sound of something knocking over amongst the dark, he screamed, "fuck!"

it had been 12 days now, almost two weeks since clay had stepped into the empty apartment of his girlfriend's. it was unexpected—hell, as unexpected life was, it usually didn't throw a curveball as such. nonetheless, clay had innocently driven down to jacksonville to pick up arielle, prepared to spend a week with her for their three year anniversary as they methodically planned. however, lo and behold, he walked into an empty flat of arielle's.

so, clay waited. he waited one hour, one day, one week—roaming in that empty apartment of hers with no connection or slight trace of her leaving. clay, of course, took the matters into his own hands at first, trying to retrace her steps and find a simple motive as to why arielle would be missing—but that led to nothing. then, the dirty blond called her mother, where mrs. finch had informed him that arielle had left voluntarily—left to see him first. hence, arielle had taken it upon herself to drive late in the night, wishing to surprise clay a day before they were supposed to meet—an early third anniversary surprise if you will. however, with arielle despising late drives in the evening to the way arielle was never fond of long roadtrips on her own, that was where everything went downhill.