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Charlie
um where'd you go ???
are you ok ?
Nick seriously
share your location or something so we can find you
babe
please

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Each vibration that came from Nick's pocket filled him with more and more dread. But he refused to check his phone.

God, what if his teammates saw him on TV? All it took was one of the lads watching the Saturday morning news. Word got around fast over text. All of Truham could've seen it by now.

Then images of Charlie and their friends crossed his mind, their gleeful faces growing worried when they all realized Nick had vanished from the street. He'd never been one to make a scene, so something this uncharacteristic of him would have certainly been cause for concern.

He really screwed up this time, didn't he? All he could do was keep his eyes shut and pretend the world beyond these walls didn't exist. It was easier than he thought; the red telephone box muffled most of the parade noise on the street.

Nobody, not the reporter, not the cameraman, not even Charlie and the squad existed right now. As long as he stayed in here, hunched over the payphone, he could keep the threats at bay.

Nick wasn't even sure how he ended up in the phone booth. The last thing he saw clearly was the camera. After that, the people and buildings just became blurry streaks that darted past him as he ran off. He didn't feel the pavement under his feet; for all he knew, he could've floated here.

He secured two fistfuls of hair and tugged hard, hoping the pain would help ground him over the sound of his erratic panting that he couldn't get under control. He managed to open his eyes, but tears were distorting his vision. Even when he wiped them away, the world was still a blur through the foggy window panes.

The smudges of color beyond the glass were people and he knew they were surrounding the telephone box and they were about to try for the door and rip him out of his sanctuary and drag him into the middle of the street and stop the parade so everyone could point at him and laugh at everything like his stupid outfit and his stupid face and his stupid decision to come here in the first place.

Nick rested his elbows on the shelf and shut his eyes once more. He felt the same achy feeling in his throat that came when he was about to cry. Only recently had he begun to resist the urge. This time, though, he gave himself permission.

The metal creaked as he leaned against it and sobbed, tears dripping onto the phone book. He tried wiping his lips, but all he managed to do was smear spit all over his cheek. That icky feeling combined with the stifling hot air in the box hastened his breathing. Has anyone ever suffocated to death in one of these things? He could be the first.

Eventually his survival instincts took over and forced him to open the door a crack so he could drink in fresh oxygen. He didn't recognize any of the floats on the street. The crowd was sparse. How long had he been in the booth?

He dried his eyes with the back of his hand and worked up the courage to check his phone. The last text Charlie sent was from fifteen minutes ago. Nick's thumb hovered over the Share My Location button for a while, but he was so shaky that he accidentally tapped on it before he could make the choice himself. Charlie began typing immediately after the text went through.

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Charlie
NICK thank god
alright i'm on my way
are you ok ?

Nick
Yes

Charlie
you really scared me
i'll be there in a few

Gay Panic - Heartstopper AUWhere stories live. Discover now