A Dreamers Dream

I was stumbling, looking in the dark, with an empty heart. Sao Paulo, Brazil

I swear every fucking street in this city looks exactly the fucking same, I think to myself as I round yet another corner onto a long road lit by dozens of bright street lights. Cars speed down the highway next to me, but I barely notice them. It feels like Sammy and I have been walking around for hours already, even though logically I know it can't have been more than fifteen minutes or so since we left the bar. Completely sober now I trudge along next to her in silence, scanning my surroundings for any sign of a pretty girl in a white dress.

Jeff and Paul, of course, tried to convince me that I couldn't come out and look for her, that it would be better for all of us if I headed back to the hotel in case I get spotted, especially as I didn't take any security with me to the bar as it was a private event, but there was no fucking way I was going to do that, no chance I was going to let others walk the streets looking for my girl whilst I sat on my arse back in my suite twiddling my thumbs. Eventually, they accepted that there was no point in arguing with me and allowed me to leave. Mitch wanted to come too, but we're too recognisable when we're together. Hence, he opted to head off with Freddie in the opposite direction to us, away from the hotel. Whilst Sammy and I made our way back towards it. Clark stayed behind to check the bar again. We didn't tell anyone else what was going on, I didn't even bother to explain the situation to Jeff or Paul, or even Mitch for that matter, but good friend that he is, he's out here anyways. Walking the streets of Brazil in the dead of night searching for a girl he has barely ever spoken to.

Deep down I know that Maddie wouldn't want all this fuss, actually, I'm pretty sure she'd hate it. She insisted that I not tell anyone what really happened at that damn interview at the time, there's no reason to think she'd have changed her mind now. My mind keeps showing me pictures of the red mark glistening in the multicoloured lights above the bar on Novak's cheek. I'm positive now that it was a handprint, question is, was it Maddie's? Her broken belt is tucked inside the back pocket of my jeans, and I am trying desperately not to read too much into how it came to be in Novak's possession. What did he do to my girl?

Maddie's perspective.

Once I am confident that there is nothing left in my stomach to come up, I slowly straighten up and take a few deep, steadying breaths before surveying the area around me and trying to come up with a plan. Noticing a bright neon sign advertising a small all-night café on the opposite side of the road, I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my – now ruined – dress, clutch the torn fabric tightly around myself and make my way over to it. At the very least, I can grab a bottle of water and try and rinse the taste of bile from my mouth. At best they might be able to tell me what direction to walk in to find my hotel, I think as I stumble across the road on shaky legs.

Ten minutes later and I leave the café clutching my water and a scrap of paper on which the very kind lady in the café wrote down directions for me to follow to get back to the hotel as she was struggling to explain it to me in broken English. A quiet voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I don't have my hotel key on me, but right now, my brain is too full of other concerns to pay much attention to it, I'll figure that out when I get there. Gingerly I take a small sip of the water as I make my way down the street in the direction of my hotel, wincing slightly as it hits the back of my throat which is still sore from my scream and the excessive vomiting and I'm beyond grateful when it doesn't try and come straight back up again when it hits my empty stomach. The woman in the café estimated that the hotel is about a half-hour walk away. So I put my head down and start moving, trying to ignore the blisters I can feel growing on the backs of my heels and the temptation to look over my shoulder every two seconds when I hear footsteps or even the rustle of a bit of rubbish as it blows down the street in the breeze.

Harry's perspective.

In the distance I can see the bright lights from the hotel illuminating the street, several people are milling around, but even from here I am sure that none of them is Maddie unless she's changed nationalities since she left the club. Checking my phone, I see a text from Mitch telling me he's not had any luck yet either. For fuck's sake Maddie where are you?