160. Chris Evans | My Choice

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By : formyfandoms | Tumblr

Words - 4118 (Yes, it's fucking long.)

Warnings - Mentions of abuse, kissing, a little sad in some places.

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It happened one night, almost out of the blue. Scott Evans came walking out of the cold, bleak streets of New York, on his way to see his older brother. In the backpack he had bought, were Hershey's kisses, Doritos, and a wide assortment of unhealthy food, and movies.

After reaching the Penthouse level, he silently walked along the dark red carpet, whistling a tune he had probably heard on the radio, and picked up without knowing. His feet carried him along the corridor, hearing the occasional television, or couple shouting, maybe a faint baby cry. A smirk fell over his face, thinking of the fact that one day, his brother would be in a house, the same noises there.

Scott appeared at number 209, almost the end of the building. The light wood door, centred with the golden numbers was now in front of him. Oddly enough, he couldn't hear any noise, not even his Brother's loud breathing. A odd look crossed his face, as he gently reached out and knocked on the door. He waited for two...three...four minutes, until he knocked again, calling out to his older brother.

"Chris? You in there? Chris?"

He kept knocking, wanting to see where he had disappeared to. After a while, and groaning in annoyance, he pulled the phone out of his jacket, unlocking it, and scrolling down to call his brother. He held it up to his ear, waiting to hear his brothers voice, but instead was greeted by the dull answer machine.

He tried again. And again. And once more. It wasn't until the fifth call, he could hear his brother's phone ringing from inside the apartment. Scott raised his eyebrows, knocking again on the door of the apartment, his voice now raising, to try and get his brothers attention.

The shouting must of eventually caught on to the penthouse along. An old lady came shuffling out, a pale pink dressing gown and faded slippers. She showed a small smile, her eyes beaming behind her rounded gold glasses.

"Are you okay, sweetie? Do you need to get in?" She croaks, beginning to walk towards the door of the apartment. Scott wasted no time beginning to explain his problem.

"My brother, I think he's in there. But he's not answering!" He exclaimed quickly. It took a moment for the old woman to realise, but she soon showed a small key, and stepped towards the door, carefully unlocking it. Scott thanked her quickly, before stepping in, beginning to shout around.

"Chris!" He called, before running to each room. "Chris!" He felt himself growing more cautious by the moment, his breath beginning to increase when he saw his phone on the sofa, and silvery keys on the coffee table. Instantly, he pulled out his phone, harshly pressing down on the '999′ buttons.

"Hello?" He said, dramatically. "Police. It's my brot-"

Scott instantly cut himself off, seeing a scribbled piece of paper, resting underneath the television remote. Still on the line to the emergency services, he pulled the piece of paper, feeling his hands tremble as the read the note, in undoubtedly his brother's messy handwriting.

"I'm alive Scotty, don't worry. I just needed to go. Give my love to everyone - Chris"

Scott swallowed the harsh lump which had settled in his throat, soothing the piece of paper in his hand. his eyes began to sting, and fresh tears begin to gather, as he realised that his brother was gone, and maybe for good.

The pint glass slammed onto the edge of the bar, sending a loud vibration across the piece of wood. It was late, dark, and cold.

It was after one of the most horrific and painful procrastinations he had ever experienced, that he decided. He became terribly pained of the movies, the interviews, the tabloids lying about every small affair he apparently participated in.

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