I could only watch as the poor kid's camera clicked off before the slurred yelling of who I could only assume to be their parents seeped through my phone speakers. Every so often, I could hear a few thuds and muffled screams from Y/N, leading me to immediately imagine the worst.
"Holy fuck, all those red flags were right. Shit, I need to help this kid and I need to help them fast,"My thoughts raced as I tried to find a way to make whoever was wailing on Y/N to get off of them; nothing was working.
Finally, after a few minutes, the yelling ceased, leaving behind labored breathing and slow, small thuds of what I was assuming were footsteps. I heard a door shut and several dragging noises, followed by a nearly silent "Oh shit."
"Please tell me you didn't hear all of that," Y/N whimpered, their camera still off.
"...What the fuck just happened? Who was that?" I stopped myself before I overwhelmed them, knowing there was no way they were in a good headspace right now.
"Let's just say my parents don't like me all that much," They said hesitantly after a couple of moments of silence.
"Please turn your camera back on, sweetheart. I just need to see how bad it is-"
"NO. No. Sorry. It's fine. I'm okay, really! Everything is fine!" They pushed out shakily, clearly lying through their teeth.
"I can tell you're lying. Let me see, please," I said, keeping my voice low as to not startle them.
In response, the call was ended; Y/N was the one who hung up. Shit. I tried calling them again, only to get declined immediately. I quickly moved to Instagram, shooting them a few texts.
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Y/N's P.O.V.
My phone pinged multiple times in quick succession just after I, regretfully, ended the call; I already knew who it was. I opened my Instagram to see a flurry of incoming messages from Dom, all of them laced with concern.
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I sighed, typing out a simple, quick, two-word response. I don't want him to help me; he's already got so much going on, a Y/A-year-old's mommy and daddy issues shouldn't be another issue he has thrown unceremoniously onto his plate.
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Dom's P.O.V.
I immediately picked up my phone and went to Instagram upon hearing a small ping from my back pocket. I queued up my DMs with Y/N, hoping for the best, only to be met with the worst.
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Fuck. Days went by with no contact from Y/N whatsoever; as the number of days grew, so did the bubbling feeling of worry in my chest that had been continuously growing since I viewed their duet. Finally, after nearly a week of radio silence, I got a Skype call, the display name at the top of the notification reading "Y/N !" in all caps. I don't think I've ever answered a call so fast in my life. This time, one thing was different from how they had hung up on me.
