It was supposed to be cute/funny, I swear.
—
June 5, 2014
Voicemail #1:
“Vic Fuentes, I can’t see you right now, but I bet you look hot as hell. You’re probably still sleeping, which means that you’re probably almost naked, which begs the question: Why am I not in your bed with you right now? Call me when you wake up, you adorable bastard.”
Voicemail #2:
“I am insanely bored. I think I’m gonna send you these annoying yet highly entertaining voicemails until you wake up. Does that sound like a good plan? Oh, wait. You can’t answer that because you’re sleeping. I guess I’ll answer for you. Yes, it sounds like a fantastic plan, Kellin Quinn. You’re a genius, as always. Aww, thanks, Vic. Call me.”
Voicemail #3:
“Sleeping in late, huh? Well, then. I guess you’re gonna miss…” (dramatic pause) “…the panty raid.”
Voicemail #4:
“So I went downstairs to get some breakfast, when I discovered a most horrifying fact: We’ve run out of Lucky Charms. It’s a travesty, Vic. A travesty! I had to settle for fucking Raisin Bran. Do you have any idea how degrading that is? Kellin Quinn does not eat Raisin Bran. Except he just did, because there’s nothing else in this fucking house. Call me.”
Voicemail #5:
(in a melodramatic commentator voice) “The time is currently 10:53 a.m., and Victor Vincent Fuentes still has not awoken from his slumber. Kellin Quinn Bostwick has resorted to counting the number of spoons in his household to remain entertained. He wishes desperately that Victor were making out with him. Unfortunately, Victor is not.”
Voicemail #6:
“Good morning, sunshine. The Earth says it’s time to get the fuck up, you asshole.”
Voicemail #7:
“Okay, seriously. It’s past noon now. You never sleep this late. Call me, for fuck’s sake.”
Voicemail #8:
“Maybe I was too rude in that last voicemail. Vic, can you pretty please answer your phone? It would make me very happy.”
Voicemail #9:
“Oh, come on. You’ve gotta be awake by now. Are you mad at me? Are you giving me the silent treatment? Is it because of the thing with the fake spider? I’m really sorry about that. Answer me, damn it.”
Voicemail #10:
“Oh my God. I just got a text from Mike. Please, please tell me you two are just playing some sort of prank on me. Answer as soon as you get this. Please.”
Voicemail #11:
“You’re not answering. Why aren’t you answering? You should be answering.”
Voicemail #12:
(about ten seconds of silence) “…God, Vic.”
June 6, 2014
Voicemail #13:
“Okay, Hide and Seek is over. Where the hell are you?”
Voicemail #14:
“God, I hope you’re okay.”
June 7, 2014
Voicemail #15:
(singing) “I miss you, I miss you so far…”
Voicemail #16:
“This isn’t fucking funny anymore. We’ve got a search team sent out for you and everything. Where the hell did you go, Vic?”
June 10, 2014
Voicemail #17:
“I’ve been trying not to call you, but I can’t stop. I guess I have the hope that one day you’ll answer and say that you’re okay now. You’ve gotta be okay.”
June 19, 2014
Voicemail #18:
“It’s been two weeks now, Vic. Two weeks since Mike texted me saying you were missing. But you already know this, probably. Hopefully. If you’re…still alive.”
Voicemail #19:
“Fuck, I hope you’re still alive.”
Voicemail #20:
“I love you.”
June 27, 2014
Voicemail #21:
“Vic? Please tell me it’s not real. Call me back as soon as you get this so you can tell me it was all a prank. I can’t be reading this right now. Mike’s wrong. He has to be. Maybe…maybe it just looks like your body. Maybe the police found someone else. I…Vic, please. Please don’t let this be real.”
Voicemail #22:
(crying) “It’s. Fucking. Real!” (the sound of shattering glass)
Voicemail #23:
(sobbing violently) “Vic. Come back. Please. Please! Don’t leave me like this. You can’t be dead. You can’t be.”
June 28, 2014
Voicemail #24:
“Why the fuck am I still calling you? You’ll never fucking answer. You can’t.”
Voicemail #25:
“I wish you’d answer.”
Voicemail #26:
(more violent sobbing) “I—I can’t breathe, Vic. It just…just hit me that you’re…fucking gone. I’ll never see you smile or laugh or cry or fucking live anymore. I want to cry on your shoulder, but I—I can’t! You wanna know why I can’t? Because you’re dead, that’s why!”
Voicemail #27:
“Why’d you have to go and die?”
June 29, 2014
Voicemail #28:
(words slurring) “Vic, I know you can’t hear me, but I just want you to know that I love you, and I miss you, and I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to go on without you, and I just…God, Vic. I love you so fucking much, okay? I—”
Kellin Quinn never got to finish his sentence, because then he walked out into the middle of a busy road, where a car hit and killed him immediately. It is not known for certain if this was a planned suicide or if he was just too drunk to think straight.
