Low-key | ✓

9 | Corbyn

Corbyn

The boys and I were on break. The 8 Letters Tour is actually gonna start in a month, and with everything going on, we might just cancel.

Daniel, Jonah, Zach, Jack, and I were in our apartment in LA. Two guards were here.

Dax and Dylan. Cyrus sent them. He said that Dylan was third best spy Internationally, and Dax was a 45 year old acquaintance of his that he knew, was capable of taking care of our case.

Dylan is a five foot seven blonde that was made of pure muscle. During our first meeting, I was actually overwhelmed by his' and Dax's appearances.

When we found out from Cyrus that Asti had given up on our case, we were shell shocked. But to be honest, shouldn't we not be shocked? I mean, she did choose to leave us on purpose.

She was alive for fucks sake!

And she didn't even think of coming back to say Hello.

But deep inside, I'm glade she's alive.

Because that means we can still—

No, Bean. No.

I shook my head clear of those thoughts.

She's gone now. Right.

She left us for good.

Well not really but, sure.

The boys haven't talked to me since Cyrus had dropped the bomb, thinking that it was my fault she had left.

"You just had to mess this up again!" Daniel pushed me, sending me backwards.

I scowled at him, "Well I'm fucking sorry, Mr. Perfect! But whether I was a douche or not, she still would have left! She did it the first time, then why wouldn't she do it the seco—"

A sharp pain jolted through my jaw, and that was when I realized that Daniel had punched me.

"You don't know the reason why she did!"

I recoiled, raising my left hand and punching his nose.

"And you do?! Right, I forgot. Playing Boyfriend, aren't we?!" I spat.

The crack sounded throughout the apartment.

The other boys had joined in on the argument, and I lost. No one was on my side that day.

I shook the memory away and looked around the apartment.

Daniel was seated on the couch with the three others, all on tgeir phones. And I was sitting on the love seat, alone.

Dax and Dylan were standing by the door, black sunglasses perched up on their noses.

No one has talked to me for the past weeks.

Daniel still had plaster over his nose that he had gotten popped back in the hospital the day of our argument.

My jaw was still bruising, but I guess its fine.

I sighed silently, scrolling through my phone and stalking the boys' profiles on Twitter.

While I was looking at Zach's Twitter, I suddenly felt sleepy.

My eyes slowly started to close, and I took one glance at the boys. They were all asleep.

My eyebrows furrowed.

Almost dark grey colored gas was spreading through the apartment, and the two secret agents were nowhere to be found.

I got up with all my strength and ran inside my room, covering my nose with my shirt sleeve.

As soon as I arrived there, i hid inside the closet I had built behind my real closet, it was big enough for the boys and I, but I unfortunately had no strength left to carry their sleeping bodies.

My eyes were drooping once more.

I dialed 911, and before I fainted, I managed to speak in a very tiny voice.

"Help me."