49.
October 4th, 2020
Iquickly put on a pair of jeans, and then began ruffling through my spare t-shirts in Zaira’s closet in search of something easy to put on. I pulled out a plain white tee, and hastily threw it over my head before grabbing my phone and wallet from her dressing table.
I should have taken her to the restaurant with me for the movie’s wrap-up celebration.
I shouldn’t have listened to her when she’d said she wanted to stay back and help the others on set.
Kenzie had decided to leave early because she had dinner plans with her family, so the last stroke of comfort I’d had of knowing that Zaira would be okay and with someone I knew and trusted – yeah, that’d been fucked.
It was 3:30a.m., and my level of concern was rising with eachtickof the clock’s hand. Her phone was out of coverage area, and even my texts weren’t reaching her. Although I knew she was fully capable of looking after herself, my anxiety still kept raking its claws down the back of my mind.
I unlocked my phone and opened the group chat. Call it an intuition, or maybe just a fleeting thought, but I wanted to send a text out to the others just to get some notes of positivity for my otherwise anxious brain. I knew it was late, but at least I could try.
Me:Zaira isn’t home yet. I’m trying to call her but can’t. Texts aren’t going through either. I’m headed to set. I’m worried out of my mind.
Almost immediately, my phone began buzzing with incoming messages.
Kenneth:I’m on my way.
Shane:Be there in a few.
Dylan:Conner and I are coming. Don’t stress. I’m sure she’s fine.
Kenzie:I tried calling but it isn’t connecting. I’m headed there now. Text me if she contacts anyone.
I let go of a short breath as I typed in a reply.
Me:You guys rock. Thanks.
I’d only just crossed the living room when my phonepingedwith another text. With a madly beating heart, I stopped and looked at it, and sighed in relief when Zaira’s name flashed across the screen. But, as soon as I read the message she’d sent, my entire body went ice-cold, and my head began buzzing incessantly with the words on my screen.
Zaira:Aubrey and her friends have locked me in the studio. There’s hardly any network, and it’s dark. Martin helped her. I’m hurt and scared, Gallan. Please come fast.
My breaths came out frosty, and when I read the text a second time, I saw red.
I’m hurt and scared, Gallan.
I’m hurt…
I’m hurt…
I straightened and took a screenshot of the message before sending it on the group chat. I then also sent it to Ross, who got back to me surprisingly fast.
Ross:I’ll see you there.
I didn’t wait to see what the others had texted, and grabbed my car keys before marching out of Zaira’s apartment. I locked the door and all but sprinted down the stairs. Once in my car, I placed my phone on its holder and backed out of the parking lot.
I was moving on autopilot, that much was obvious. My brain had thankfully decided not to shut down on me, but my body – it was openly betraying my act of wanting to stay levelheaded after reading Zaira’s message.
I was sweating, trembling, fucking close to throwing up all over myself.
I was hardly breathing, hardly seeing straight, and my heart – it felt like it was in my mouth with the way it was beating against my chest.
My fingers kept slipping on the steering wheel because of the damned sweat, and as I tried to swallow the growing lump in my throat, a knot began tightening my stomach to the point of pain.
She was scared.
