Crazy? [MOONKNIGHTXREADER]

Chapter 8

The flight to New York was quick, and luckily for you, there was no turbulence. During the flight, you worked out some emails to send to the university and your parents, and left your laptop alone after that. It was a bit hard to work, since everyone else surrounding you were in their heads, forming a cacophony of voices in your mind. But you swallowed your anxieties the best you could, even as the cortisol began to pile up, and put in your headphones to better distract yourself.

In the meantime, you got lost within your own thoughts, trying to distract yourself from everyone else's. You were genuinely scared of what responses you might get from your parents, but you were too worried about Marc and Steven to think about backing down on your decision. Layla found the two of you a hotel. You offered to help pay, she wouldn't have it. At least it was a decently nice hotel room- she didn't have you two stay at anything like a shady inn or motel.

"So, where do we start?" You asked Layla after you had finished unpacking. She took out a laptop, sitting on the bed and getting to work. "I'm going to work on trying to track Marc's phone. In the meantime, you can help by..." You pat your stomach, already coming up with an idea. "I'll work on getting us some food." Layla nodded, smiling as she gave you a thumbs up. "Sounds great- don't want to be working on an empty stomach."

Sitting down on the bed across from her, you got to work, looking at some nearby restaurants. Eventually, you came across a really nice looking Italian restaurant. It had good reviews, but it didn't look to be the type of place that would be so crowded you couldn't eat. Not only that, but being in New York, a densely populated city, was not doing so great in terms of providing an overstimulation-induced migraine. So you were hoping to go for a less crowded restaurant. "How's the tracking going?" You asked Layla, seeing her wear a deep frown as she bit her lip. She drew away from the device, smacking the side of the bed irritably. "Nothing. I think he destroyed the fucking phone." You bit the inside of your cheek. "Shit. He's still gotta be in New York, right?" Layla sighed, shrugging. "Who knows. But we can hope."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. Stretching, you finally broke it, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "Wanna go get something to eat? Maybe we'll run into him along the way." Layla rolled her eyes. "There's no way that will happen," she closed her laptop, getting up from the bed, "but food sounds really good right now. What do you have in mind?"

You showed her the Italian restaurant and its reviews as you both headed down to the lobby, hurrying out into the streets of New York. She stared at your phone as you brought up the directions to the restaurant, to which she tisked. "I think we're gonna have to get a cab." You shrugged. "That's fine." You took her hand, running out towards the street and waving one down immediately. "Wow. How- have you been here before?" You grinned at her, chuckling. "I used to live here- only for a little while, but long enough to get a hang of the New York stubbornness." Layla let out a surprised, "huh" as you opened the cab door, dragging her inside.

"Where are you two lookin to go?" You hardened your expression, ready to reply, only to freeze once you looked into the reflection of the mirror. Layla closed the door behind the two of you, unaware. You took hold of her arm, squeezing it. "Y/n? What's-?" She whispered, following your paralyzed gaze to the front seat. She tensed, breath hitching in her throat as she recognized the man. It was the body of the man who held Marc and Steven. But the eyes that currently looked out at the two of you were neither figure.

Everything went silent within the cab- even the voices you normally heard from the people surrounding you went silent. The man driving the cab wore an Irish cap. He had an accent- New Yorker or New Jersey accent, which made sense with the location. The slightest glimpse into his eyes made you feel sick to your stomach with fear.