Murdered Truth [Scar X Grian]

CHAPTER FOUR

The two mechanical glass doors opened when HotGuy and CuteGuy approached, letting them escape the haunting eyes of the Police's headquarters. Maybe more like the haunting eyes of Chief Corbyn, even though he was still up at the very top off the building, sitting in the black chair behind his desk.

"What's the address again?" Grian asked, he already forgot. "What! I've told you like three times already!" HotGuy complained as he opened the folder again, reading the information that was typed out on the paper out loud. "Address: Rosefieldstreet 83." Right. Rosefieldstreet 83, the street where a girl had lived for multiple years, who was now suddenly gone for two months.

"It still doesn't sit right with me why Chief Corbyn 'put this case off'. It doesn't make sense?" Grian said looking in HotGuy's eyes, trying to find an answer. Even though HotGuy was wearing a blue and orange visor, Grian couldn't help but notice how gorgeous his partners eyes were. Were they always like that?

The sound of someone calling his name made him snap back to reality. "CuteGuy?" HotGuy's scarred hand was moving back and forth in front of his face. "What?" Grian asked, slapping away the swaying hand that belonged to HotGuy.

"What was that for?" His partner whined, grabbing his hand and covering it to try and make the sudden pain go away faster. "What?" Grian asked again. "Maybe Chief Corbyn has something to do with it?" HotGuy tried.

"You watch too many police series, HotGuy. Don't be ridiculous," Grian laughed. Why would the Chief of Police have something to do with a missing girl? The only thing he has to do with the case is to investigate it, to let his police officers investigate it.

HotGuy and CuteGuy were walking towards Rosefieldstreet, the street where the missing girl her house is located. It was quite a long walk though, Rosefieldstreet was one of the few streets where fancy and big looking houses were built. Only rich people lived there, you couldn't afford it otherwise. Violetta lived with her parents, so maybe they could get some information about her from them. But Grian knew teenagers were always full of secrets—secrets that parents didn't know of—he knew that because he used to be the same.

The street turned left, and so did they. Grian noticed a few dark alleys scattered across the road, but all the different cheery looking shops made up for it.

"Okay.. maybe I do watch too many police series.. but it doesn't mean it couldn't be a possibility.." HotGuy murmured, completely in his own thoughts. Yeah, maybe someone needs to take his television from him.

Grian quietly scanned the streets for potential reporters following their every move, while HotGuy rambled on about how Chief Corbyn could possibly be involved in the case. Grian hoped that if he didn't really listen to what HotGuy had to say, he would stop convincing himself that the Chief of Police was corrupt.

When Grian's eyes glanced over the sketchy looking alleys, his gaze fixated upon a black figure standing in the shadow the alley provided. He stopped walking, taking a better look at it. It took HotGuy a while before realizing his partner had stopped walking and disappeared next to him.

Grian narrowed his eyes. What was that? Was it a person? "What are you looking at?" Grian heard HotGuy asking behind him, moving his head towards CuteGuy's, as if he wouldn't be able to see what he was looking at from a different height. Grian shrugged in response. He didn't really know what he was looking at.

The figure didn't move. It stood there, in the corner of the beginning of the alley.

Grian gasped and covered his mouth with his hand as he realized what it was. "What? What's wrong?" HotGuy asked with a worried tone in his voice, trying to get an answer out of his shocked partner. It had found him. It had found him in his superhero form. For years Grian had thought that being CuteGuy—the hero of the city that everyone loved—his second life—was his escape from the black figure he had seen lurking in every corner since he turned seven years old.

Now that was all gone. He didn't have some sort of escape anymore. But what if being CuteGuy was never his escape? What if the figure had been watching him, even as CuteGuy, all this time without Grian knowing?

The sound of someone worryingly calling out to him made him snap back to reality. Grian couldn't see the figure standing in the alley anymore, not because it was gone, but because HotGuy was standing in front of him. He had placed his hands on both of CuteGuy's shoulders, carefully avoiding the two smaller wings on his head as he gently shook Grian around to get some kind of response out of him.

"CuteGuy?" He asked again, shaking him around even more. Grian blinked a few times, making sure he was really back. The black and pink wings on his head twitched at the feeling of HotGuy's hands just barely avoiding them.

Grian took a step back, making HotGuy's hands slide off of his shoulders. "Are you alright?" Grian quietly nodded. He knew HotGuy wouldn't be able to see the figure, just like no one could when he was Grian. He didn't want to be here anymore.

Grian quickly started walking again, with a faster pace this time. They were almost at Rosefieldstreet anyway. The faster they were there and asked Violetta her parents some questions, the faster Grian could go home. Not that being home was any better, it certainly didn't make the black figure with beaming purple eyes go away. There never seemed to be an escape, not anymore.

"Are you sure you're alright?" HotGuy tried again, worriedly fiddling with his hands. "I'm fine," Grian replied. He hoped that his partner would give up on trying to figure him out, though it was nice for someone to care for once.

No one really cared when they noticed Grian staring into a corner all the time—which makes sense—maybe they thought he was just zoned out? His mother was one of the only people who he had told about the figure, only because he was scared. Grian remembered telling two of his best friends in middle school. Little did his twelve year old self know that was the biggest mistake of his whole life.

His two so called best friends told multiple other kids about the figure he always saw. They all made fun of him for it, letting Grian believe that he was crazy and a freak for seeing the thing he does to this day.

"If you're really okay you would be responding to me," HotGuy said firmly as he grabbed Grian's hand to make him stop walking. "Let me go," Grian said as he tried to make his way out of HotGuy's grip.

The soft touch of his partners hand felt oddly familiar, though they never held hands. For some reason it made Grian's face heat up. He quickly looked away while still trying to wiggle his hand to freedom. "I'm not letting go until you tell me what's wrong. You can trust me."

Trust. That's what Grian had in his two best friends. Trust that they wouldn't make fun of him. Trust that they would keep his secret for him. All because he wanted to feel less alone.

"You can trust me." Could Grian really trust him though? I guess he has always trusted him with his life, hasn't he? So why couldn't he trust him with his secret? A part of Grian really wanted to tell him, but he was still skeptical.

"We're almost there," Grian said, trying to change the topic. HotGuy seemed to get the hint. He softened his grip on Grian's hand and let go shortly after.

They walked into a fancy looking neighborhood, big modern houses here and there. HotGuy and CuteGuy rarely turned up here. The only exception for when they would possibly be in this neighborhood, would be because of a robbery. But because of the high security most of the houses have, robbers tend to not push their luck here.

"83.." Grian murmured as he scanned the golden glowing metal signs that indicated what number the house had. "It's that one over there." HotGuy pointed one of the modern houses at the end of the street, Grian could just barely see the sign that said 83.

They quickly crossed the street and walked over to the front porch of the house. A white car was parked in front of the garage. Grian watched as HotGuy walked up to the door and firmly knocked on it. Grian stayed behind just in case, this wouldn't be the first time they would get a not so fun surprise. They heard some shuffling coming from behind the door. HotGuy quickly shot a look at Grian, giving him a thumbs up as he held carefully laid his hand on his bow, ready to grab it if needed.

Grian gave his partner a determined nod and did the same. They both held their breath as they heard a key entering the lock of the door, waiting for it to open.