𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝟏𝟐: 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑽𝑬

The interview wasn't as 'short' as the officers said it would be, given their useless questions thrown from left to right. Dewey had escorted me out of the room, which brought me into slight relief—I couldn't stand the constipated feeling. He placed a comforting hand on my back as we walked farther and farther away towards the main lobby.

"Hold it, stay there," Dewey demanded, putting his hands up as he backed away slowly. "Don't run off, I need to fill out a couple papers at the desk." he joked. I nodded, Dewey spinning around and rushing to the front desk. He grabbed a pen and spoke a few words to the slightly older woman, who handed him a clipboard seconds later. I turned my head away from Dewey's view and looked out the bordered windows. The sunset bled a orangey-red color as if it wasn't blue just seconds ago.

The phone rang loudly, but so suddenly as I whipped my head back to the front desk. The woman held onto the handle and answered, Dewey still filling out the form. I nervously chewed on my lip from how anxious I became, the ringing of a telephone always struck a fright beneath me. The woman looked up at Dewey, then at me in the far corner. She politely leaned onto her desk, whispering a few things to him. Dewey looked over at me and nodded, making a motion to come over.

"(Y/N), a surprise phone call for you." Dewey called out. I had already placed my full attention to the commotion, stepping with slight hesitation.

"From who?" I questioned. I had felt the need to reassure it wasn't a Ghostface call. Dewey shrugged cluelessly, turning his attention back to the paper. I shakily took ahold of the telephone, raising it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I said, praying that I wouldn't regret taking the phone later.

"(Y/N)! Dammit, thank goodness you're alright." Mickey exclaimed through the receiver.

I had to admit, I did take a deep sigh of relief that I wasn't in danger. "Hey Mickey, I haven't heard from you in a while it seems.." I confessed, stringing strands of hair behind my ear. Something was off. I didn't know how Mickey knew where I was; the debate to ask was real challenging.

"Yeah..I'm sorta stuck in my own world, hectic film projects, busy schedule—not that I don't have any time to hangout with you of course." Mickey chuckled in reply, his laughter dying down as soon as the mood became unsettling. "Heard what happened with Meeks..man that's some crazy shit. Who knew the horror geek would end up on life support, huh?" he alleged. I could practically hear the sound of him facepalming himself, as if he knew it was coming.

"Mhm, it's been tough. I still can't believe how it all happened so quick." even feeling a lack of disbelief myself. "I mean, one second he's on the phone and the next he's laying lifeless in my arms." I spoke in truth, a crack in my voice was visible.

Mickey silently tutted. "Hey, it's okay. He's not dead yet so hopefully- hopefully, he recovers." he appealed. I mumbled a couple words, lost in the thought of Randy possibly not recovering.

My heart skipped a beat beneath my chest as I held onto it. "Yeah, yeah you're right. I totally don't have to worry, as it seems you're not as bothered.." I sort of whispered the last part, Mickey humming a curious 'hm?' in response. "By the way, how did you know where I was? Since you somehow knew to call here.." I nervously asserted, changing the subject. A moment of silence was brought upon us.

"I had figured you'd be at the station since this whole thing happened a bit earlier from now." Mickey claimed. My suspicion rose. "I thought you might've been with Dewey the whole time so the station was the second place to go after the hospital. Guess I was right, huh?" he quickly concluded. My suspicion disappeared since what he had said made moral sense.