This Is My Version; A Conor Maynard Fanfiction

Chapter 24

Olivia's POV

The familiarity of walking down the corridor in Conor's building feels weird. I've been here so many times now it somehow seems normal. Yet today I'm not here under the usual circumstances.

I'm here because of a dm, a dm I'd received from his brother and it was definitely a concerning one.

I reach my hand up to knock on the door I'd knocked on so many times before but the man who greets me isn't Conor, it's a red eyed Jack and he's quick to pull me into a hug as soon as I'm inside the hallway.

"I'm so glad you could come. I don't know what's wrong, he won't unlock his door"

He pulls away from the hug, the things he'd said definitely worrying me.

Conor's always been a silent sufferer. He doesn't talk until he really has to and I'm yet to have heard the whole story.

So I leave Jack downstairs, slowly walking up the stairs to Conor's room, getting met by a closed door, just like Jack had told me.

"Conor?"

I tap the door a couple of times, hoping that by not knocking it'd make it easier for me to convince him to open it.

Yet, no answer, the eerie silence scaring me.

"Conor, it's me, I just want to know if you're alright"

It's like a scene out of a horror film and I find myself painting horrible pictures in my head, pictures I never want to see him ever go through.

How have I ended up here? How am I the one stood outside this door right now? Why do I care? Just why.

"I'm. Fine."

Thank god. I exhale a sigh of relief, resting my head against the door as if all the strength suddenly has left my body.

He's alive.

"Con, please let me in, we can work this out, okay"

My heart is pounding in my chest, scared of what I could possibly find behind this door. I knew he was in a bad way but after hearing his voice I now know he's worse than he's ever been during the time I've known him.

"Don't get Jack"

I sigh, turning my head to face Jack who's stood at the bottom of the stairs. If this was going to work he'd have to hide out in his room for the time being.

"I promise I won't, Conor. I just- I'm worried about you and I want to make sure you're alright"

The sound of the lock being turned almost makes me jump but my feeling of relief is soon turned into one of worry as I'm met by the man I haven't seen in a week's time.

He's lost weight, his clothes hanging even looser down his body than they'd done previously. His bloodshot eyes contrasting the greyish, almost white colour of his skin.

I shake my head, my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying as I take a couple of steps into the room, the room he clearly hasn't left in days.

"I'm so sorry"

It's not until I've got him in my arms that I notice just how much weight he's lost and it scares me. It scares me so fucking much you don't even understand.

Yet he doesn't move, his arms hanging down his sides as I hug him. He doesn't hug back like he usually does. He doesn't cry. He just stands there, almost as if it's something wrong with it.

I look around the room over his shoulder, spotting the bottle of vodka on the bedside table, it's just about empty.

Of course he's been drinking.