I was currently sat on my bed, my cheeks bright red from embarrassment.

The memories from last night were flooding through my mind, including those with Killian!

I had thrown up about twice after the party and fell asleep straight after. Now it's 3pm, and I've sat here for half an hour, regretting every single thing about the party.

My eyes drop down to the tie wrapped around my neck and I wince from intense embarrassment. Blushing even harder, as I quickly pull it off and throw it across the room.

I can't believe I kissed him as well!

I hear Matt grunt next to me and I turn to him. He's laying on his stomach and when his eyes peel open he winces, groaning again as he clutches his head.

He looks like shit.

"Fuck." He pushes himself onto his back, clutching his head, with both of his hands.

"You alright, sweetie?" I tilt my head with a raised brow.

Matt's head snaps towards me and he frowns. "You don't have a hangover?" His voice is raspy from both sleep and pain.

I shrug. "Don't feel anything." I state.

Well, except embarrassment.

His eyes widen in surprise. "You fucking drank way more than me." He complains, his voice hinting jealousy.

I just smile, sheepishly.

He groans. "How is this fair? You never drink and when you did, turns out you're one of the lucky ones who don't get hangovers." He grips his head again, moaning out in pain.

I roll my eyes. "At least you don't do anything embarrassing when you're drunk. Trust me I'm never drinking again."

He scoffs, a laugh ending it. "Nothing can be worse than a hangover, babe."

I search for my phone and when I find it, I switch it on. Going onto Google as I search 'why am I not hungover.'

Few minutes later of reading random articles, I smirk. "It says it's in my genes." I flip my knotty hair back and he scoffs.

"And it also says it reduces your life expectancy if you drink all the time." I wince. "Maybe you should quit drinking too–"

"No chance." He cuts me off immediately, and I roll my eyes.

After some moments I speak again.

"I wanna go shopping today." I say and he scoffs.

"Wanna come?" I turn to him, my lips twitching and he gives me a look.

"What do you think?" He drones out, flatly, before shoving his face into the pillow, groaning again.

I laugh in response. "I'll go get the meds."

"And hurry with it, tomato face." He grunts back as I stand up and then glare at him.

Surely, I'm not that red.

~~~~~~~~

I plop down onto my bed, sucking on my cola ice lolly, as I scroll through my Insta feed.

Matt had gone home a while ago feeling like absolute shit, I probably won't see him till tomorrow afternoon.

I deleted my new instagram that I made out of anger and decided to stick with my old one, where my friends still followed me.

I sigh, biting onto the lolly and swallowing it.

I go onto Donald's chat and frown when I see him online.

I quickly type out a hi. Excitement building inside of me.

The message is read straight away and my eyes buldge out. What the hell?!

And to my most utter shock not even moments later a respond comes.

Hello.

My heart begins to thump in my chest from both excitement and confusion.

Is this Donald?

I hesitantly respond, and it's read immediately, a response following.

Yes.

I frown.

His blunt responses are kinda creeping me out. How the hell am I supposed to converse with him, with these blunt ass responses?

I don't know how long I sit there staring at the screen, but another message pops up and I realise it's been ten minutes.

My eyes drop to the new message.

Where are you exactly? :-( miss u

In instinct I block him, placing my hand on my chest.

Bruh, what the fuck!

That is not Donald. I know how Donald texts and from the way he's texting. I can sense something fishy going on.

Has he been hacked?

I gulp, my face falling a little.

"Alright, lets wrap it up for today." Mr Greaves claps his hands together, gathering up his papers as we all stand up, ready to exit our final class.

"Remember guys, mock exams next week, be prepared or fail." He calls out and I groan. Don't know why the hell I chose History for my A-Level.

As I exit the class, I swing my backpack on, heading to my same old locker. Yup I'm in Sixthform now and this is my final year before I head to uni for four years. Blissful.

I open it up, pulling out the rest of my stuff before closing it shut. My eyes landing on Layla's old locker next to mine.

I could just imagine her still here, doing what she's best at. Complaining.

My lips tug up at the memories and I sigh.

"Dude, quit staring at my locker." Kasim, the new owner of the locker gives me a side look, before opening it up and I roll my eyes.

We chat for a while before I give him a nod, and start walking off and exit the building.

Cara and Kaleb had already left since they only had three classes today, so I won't see them again till tomorrow.

I hop into my car and start driving.

I missed layla terribly, and still felt a little guilty for handing the letters she gave me to the police, along with writing my final letter to her all blunt as if I was fed up. Despite her saying she was fine I just refused to believe she actually was.

She was held captive and in danger. She was definitely not fine and I just hoped we'd find her soon.

God knows what that guy Killian, was doing to her.

This morning was the first time I heard an update from the missing persons agency, in which Layla's case was transferred to, so I was heading over to them right now, to find out what's happened.

I also had to give up my phone to them, along with Cara and Kaleb- so if she ever tried to contact us, they'd recieve it and try to figure out where she is.

I hit the brakes when I appear in front of the building and blow out a breath, exiting my car.

Once I enter the building I head straight to the room number I was given, knocking on the door and waiting.

Soon the door opens, the usual man greeting me as he leads me into the room where several people were sat, watching their computers.

I awkwardly take a seat in front of the desk, where the man takes a seat, putting his glasses on.

After long moments of waiting, and him staring at his computer, my patience runs thin.

"Did you find her?" I blurt out the question, tapping my foot against the floor, repeatedly.

He turns his head to me, pity in his eyes.

"Not exactly, no." He shakes his head, sighing. As he gathers up the papers in front of him, looking to be those I've recieved from Layla years ago. She never did get back to me.

I curse under my breath, shaking my head, disappointedly.

"But we know that she's somewhere in America." He states and my ears perk up.

"The address leads to a dead end in Chicago, in an empty cottage, we've searched the areas and the whole city but there is no sign of her." He pushes his glasses up.

"Someones been picking up and delivering the letters for her, I'm presuming." He scratches his jaw.

"Which means... she may be living close by in another city, but we just can't put our finger on it." He then begins to type away on his computer.

"We've been recieving texts from her, via your phone in which weve inputted into the computer." He continues.

"We've only just had time to look through them and have a little chat, but I think she's realised it wasn't you who she was talking to and she's blocked us." He sighs, glancing at me with pity.

"It seems like she doesn't want to be found." He then states and I grunt in response.

"...Now on these letters, she's stated she's fine and that you do not have to worry." His eyes narrow a little, as he glances at me again.

"But my question is, is she really fine? Or are these letters and texts a hoax written by the one who's captured her?" He sighs.

I remain silent, running my hand against my hair, frustratedly.

After a long awkward silence he speaks again.

"Now we've got the guys name. Killian... do you.. perhaps know how he looks like?" He tilts his head, his voice slow.

"No fucking clue." I groan. "Never seen him in my life."

He sighs. "Thought so." And he begins typing again.

"Right." He mutters and after a while I hear him curse under his breath.

"What?"

"It seems that she or he, has blocked both Cara and Kaleb's server also."

"Fuck." I curse. "Smart bastard." I mutter out, angrily. "It's definitely him who's texting." I grit.

"Maybe so." The man nods, pity clear in his eyes. "But then again, it doesn't really make sense, why would he have contact with us?"

"To trick us, that's why." I snap and he just calmly nods.

And after some silence he says.

"...you also said he was a gangster?"

With narrowed eyes, I nod. "Something like that."

He nods, typing again, his face then scrunching. And after ten minutes he turns to me again with a sorrowful look.

I stand up and glace at his computer, there written was...

Possible human trafficking and a bunch of other words.

"It is just a theory." The man states as I fist up my hands.

'What now?" I ask, tightly and he doesn't respond for a moment.

"I'm afraid we're on another dead end." He scratches his scruffy beard. "I will give you another call if we find anything--"

"What?" I cut him off, angrily.

He sighs, giving me a look. "The device she's using is highly secured and untrackable. Unless she enables her location there's nothing else we can do." He says and I grind my teeth together.

"She's probably being used as a sex slave right now!" My voice raises into a booming shout and he winces.

"I'm sorry sir, we're doing everything we can but--"

"This is fucking bullshit." I snap, storming towards the door. "Plain and utter bullshit." With that, I exit the room, slamming the door shut.

Eyes immediately land on me and I ignore them, shaking my head as I begin to cool off. As soon as I reach my car outside.

This is it. I may never get to see my childhood bestfriend again, all because of that fucker.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair as I pull out my phone, I let Cara and Kaleb know about the useless update and then drive off.

"I don't know, Matt. It just didn't seem right." I speak through the phone with a deep frown.

"Well, when are you even planning on going back to the UK?" He counters back and I purse my lips.

"In a few years, maybe 2." I wince. "I kinda like it here with you and Luca and I'm not ready to go back just yet." I sigh, running my hand through my hair.

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to stay in contact with him. I really do want that-- I really want to talk to him but.." I let out a loud growl, tugging on my hair. "I just know that wasn't him!" I shriek.

"Woah! Calm your tits woman!" Matt exclaims and I grunt in response. "You're just delusional."

"No I'm not Matt! It wasn't him! the way he texted.. It was like, it gave me chills!" I shake my head, putting the call on loud speaker as I then go onto the chat, shaking my head, as my eyes run along the words again.

"There's definitely something off about this, I'm telling you.. I-I.. what if he's been robbed or, h-hacked? Or maybe--"

"Relax, bruh." He cuts me off. "Unblock him and give him a facetime ring. You're probably just experiencing some drunken side effects." He says, smoothly.

"Hell no! And for the hundredth time I have a Samsung, not iPhone." I roll my eyes and he scoffs in response.

"Alright then, pussy. Call you later, my heads still banging."

"Shut up you--" before I can finish he hangs up, and I grunt in response.

My mind drifts off to my friends again, and I sigh, shaking my head.

I will definitely go back to England, eventually. I just hope they'll forgive me.

I cautiously then log into my Snapchat account to see if he hasn't been hacked on that.

~~~~~~

Currently I was applying makeup on myself, getting ready to go out.

I bring my face closer to the mirror, as a Justin Bieber song comes on from my playlist and I begin to sing along.

"Boyfriend, boyfriend. I can be your boyfriend." I speak in the classical deep hushed whisper of Justin Bieber, spit accidentally flying onto the mirror.

"Oops." I wipe it off with my sleeve, flipping my hair back as I pick up a hair brush, putting it to my lips.

"If I was your boyfriend! I'd never let you go! And--oh ew.." The hairbrush clatters onto the table as I pull out a tiny hair strand from my tongue and cringe. How'd that get there?

I shake my head, and after a few minutes of applying lipstick, I put it down, pursing my lips together.

I then head to my bed, when suddenly my foot trips over something and I fall onto the floor with a thud.

"Ow, what the frick!" I groan rubbing my arm, my eyes dropping to the suitcase and I narrow my eyes.

How'd this get there?

I unzip it and realise it's actually Killian's.

Oh right. Matt.

I roll my eyes with a smirk, he's just as nosey as me.

I casually put my hands inside it, pulling out some papers.

I open up the first paper, reading it and then putting it down. As I open up the next letter my eyes immediately land on the words..

Oxford University.

Woah!!

This is like one of the toppest universities in UK!

My eyes run along the words, with a smile on my face. He's actually a really smart guy. He didn't even apply, they offered him a place.

I then look at the next papers- His results for GCSES and A-Levels.

Just when I'm about to read it, I hear a voice from outside my room, the door wide open.

"Are my stuff in your room?" The deep, rasped voice came from the stairs and my heart picks up its pace. Killian!

"Shit." I panic, standing up at the speed of light, causing me to trip over the buckle of the suitcase and landing on the floor with a loud thud.

I scramble up, breathing heavily as I quickly zip up the suitcase, my hands turning clammy.

Shit, shit, shi--

"What are you doing?" I hear him right behind me and I snap my head back, my cheeks burning red.

I look up my eyes meeting his intense blue eyes that drop to the suitcase, then the papers on the floor then at me, as he cocks a brow, crossing his arms.

He looked a little mad, but not at me as his eyes looked a little distant, his cheeks red. Well I hope not at me.

"I-I don't know what this is doing here." I blurt out, quickly turning my face to the suitcase as I fully zip it up.

I stand to my feet, and try to pick it up, releasing a grunt.

After some silence he speaks.

"No hangover, I presume?" He asks, as he moves to my side, his familar scent entering my nose and I almost faint. He lifts up the suitcase, effortlessly, his gaze falling on me again.

My eyes run down his outfit, which was a tight white shirt, that showed off all his muscles, a black tie with it and a pair of black trousers. His ashy blond hair was tousled up, and the silver lip ring was shining from his plumpy lips.

"Uh, n-no. That's just Matt." I clear my throat, blinking a few times and his lips tug up, clearly noticing me checking him out, he then does the same with my outfit, which is some white shorts and a blank tank top.

He gives me a nod. "See you around then." He says, slowly heading to the door.

No!

"Hey, let me help with the rest of your stuff." I call out, following him out and into Luca's room, as I search for the box.

"That's alright, love. I'll manage it." He says, his voice filled with amusement.

"No, I insist." I shake my head, and when I find it, I bend down and force it up, releasing a grunt.

~~~~

After I'm done helping him put his stuff inside the boot of his car, Killian closes it shut.

"So are you going back to England or something?" I ask him, casually, rubbing my hands together as I watch him put his hand into his jacket.

"Nah, just taking these back to my place." He responds, his brows knitting together as he continues to search for something in his pocket.

That's great.

"What?" ...I said it out loud didn't I?

"Oh, uh, me and Luca b-baked some fresh cookies, do y-you want some?" I stammer out, blushing again.

He stares at me for a while, then shrugs. "Sure."

"I think they're ready now, let's go."

Half an hour later, all the cookies are demolished, mostly by me. While Killian ended up chatting with Luca next to him and me low-key staring at him.

I burp quietly, wiping off the crumbs around my mouth as I pat my kinda fat belly.

Luca leaves after ten minutes and Killian goes on his phone, while I now openly stare at him.

"I've never seen you come here before." I state.

"I've come here plenty of times while you were out." He responds back, leaning his elbow against the table now, as he texts someone, a smile on his face.

My face falls a little. "Who are you texting?"

After a moment, Killian puts his phone down, resting his arms on the table as his eyes land on me, a brow raising as he analyses my face.

"James." His eyes go back to mine again and I blush.

"Oh, okay then." I clear my throat. God, I always have to embarass myself.

After a few minutes of practically reading me, he sighs, clasping his hands together.

"Layla, I think we need to talk."

Oh no, I think he knows how I still have feelings for him! I hope the jealousy wasn't too obvious.

"No, Killian I swear it's not that, I'm sorry, I was just curious--"

"Hey, relax." He cuts me off, with narrowed eyes. "I just want to talk about something."

After a few moments I nod, nervously.

"Right." He rakes his hand through his hair, sexily, his eyes glued to mine making one of them twitch.

His lips turn up a little, and he shakes his head. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

My body tenses up at his questions, my hands becoming clammy. "Uh, w-why do you ask?" I begin to fidget with my fingers.

"So yes." He rolls his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry for what I did." I blush in embarassment and he just smirks.

"It's alright." He assures. "I'm sure you didn't mean to say the things you did, either."

"Uh, yes, I'm sorry." I place my hands against my burning cheeks, squeezing my eyes shut.

"It's alright." He repeats and after a long awkward silence, he speaks cautiously.

"Were they true?"

I take a deep breath and nod my head. "Yeah, I missed you a lot." I then speak out, more bravely, opening my eyes to greet his.

He stares at me for a long moment, making me feel nervous.

"I still like you." I blurt out.

Cuz YOLO right?

He sighs in response, running a hand against his handsome face.

"I'm surprised you're not mad at me, for all the things I've put you through."