Page 9

Sebastian:

I’m pacing my room, going fucking insane as I imagine every fucked up scenario that Alina ended up in last night. I was so blinded by my anger that I hadn’t thought to give her my number or grab hers. I’m currently regretting that, very fucking much.

This stress is making me want to use. I think of the bliss a needle could bring, but know it’ll only be temporary. I have no idea the state Alina is in, and it could mean disaster if I find her too late. I don’t think I should prepare myself for anything other than that.

I cry out, fisting my hair in my hands as I sit on the edge of my bed and try to think. I have a sudden idea. I haven’t looked Alina up online in years and maybe her social media could give me a clue as to where she is or lives. I’m willing to stalk her, trying anything to get what I want. I don’t have a good feeling, and I barely slept all night due to my raging anxiety. My fingers are shaking as I enter Instagram and type in her name.

She pops up immediately, making the need inside my racing heart that much more apparent. Just seeing her smiling face in these pictures is causing me to ache for her. It’s why I stayed away from social media and tended to hire someone else for these things while I was on tour.

Those green eyes… Lina Girl…

I scroll for a moment as I admire her beauty, getting lost in all the pictures of my girl. Most of them seem to be advertisements for the bar, but I figure it’s a front for whatever she’s doing with her body behind it. God fucking dammit , she’s gorgeous . The most beautiful woman in the fucking world and she’s literally throwing herself away for trash ass men.

I don’t fucking understand it.

My sinking gut reminds me I’m on a mission here. I stop gawking at her face long enough to try and see if anything points to an address or a neighborhood she might frequent. No addresses other than the bar are tagged. I’m sighing defeatedly, thinking of giving up hope when I scroll to the top and see the saved stories above her feed. One is titled Home with a white heart emoji next to it. My thumb clicks it desperately, praying for some sort of clue to be hidden inside it.

I recognize the houses immediately. She’s purchased one of the small brick homes built by the high school we used to attend. There’s a selfie of her holding up a key in front of the door. I’m able to see the letter on the side of the house, just above her shoulder. Unit G. It’s enough to go off of as I scramble around my room, dressing myself quickly so I can go get my fucking girl and bring her fucking home. Five minutes later, I’m in the car and speeding towards the area where we first met.

“Hold on, Lina Girl.”

It’s a prayer and I repeat it the entire way to her place.