Bringing Them Back- An R5 Fanfiction

Chapter 16: Tipsy

"Ross, can you pack up the-" He whipped around to face me, a kiss mark on his cheek, and a girl in front of him, her arms wrapped around his waist. First of all, no fans were allowed in the bus parking lot behind the venue, and I've never worn a lipstick color that's as dark as the one on his cheek.

"Sarah, I-I can explain. She's just an old friend-" I cut him off.

"Pack up the amp when you're finished with her." I was numb, all emotion in my voice drained. "Just- don't expect me to be on the bus on the ride to Maine." Whirling around, I walked into the venue through the back door, and left through the front.

Why would he do that? I thought he was happy with me. The first tear streamed down my cheek. I am in my hometown after all. There's no better place to dump me than here. It was late, and within seconds I was picked up by a crowd of drunk men. No one ever said the Philadelphia was the safest place.

"What are you doing out so late? Oh look boys, she's crying. Are you lost, babe?" They asked. The scent of alcohol carried in their breath. I walked faster, and one of them grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back, slamming my shoulder into the side of a building. "Where you headed?" They held me against the brick wall. When I didn't answer soon enough, one of them took their elbow and slammed it into my jaw. The edges of my vision clouded, but I stayed on my feet. Another one of them peeled me off of the wall and dragged me into their group.

"You're coming with us. We're going to a party." One of them pulled a bottle out of their coat and shoved it towards my face. I gasped, and it splashed all over me. They forced my mouth open and poured the liquor down my throat. It dripped into the wound opening up from the blow to my jaw, and began to ting like you wouldn't believe. I choked, and they laughed hysterically. "You don't like that, do you babe? What a shame." I was forced to walk with them. Periodically, they poured their alcohol down my throat, walking for hours as a group, until they reached a club on the far end of the city. They headed in, but the club hopper held me back.

"Go home while you still can." He warned. The alcohol began to take effect, and my vision began to shift slowly. The more I moved, the more the ground in front of me moved and shook. I tried my best to walk straight down the street. I stumbled over the curb a couple of times, and when I reached a street corner, I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. The concrete skinned my knees, adding to the list of gashes I'll come home with tonight.

I forced myself up. I needed to cross the street. I needed to get away from this club. Turning to face the street, I limped my way across. My phone was in my back pocket, I could feel it. It had to be at least an hour since I left him. I pulled my phone out, and it almost slipped out of my hand. The time read 2:45 AM. It's been four hours. I stopped walking. Should I text him? My vision twisted and swerved again. I had to, but the light from my phone burned my eyes. I couldn't even see the words on the screen. The light was too harsh. I set my phone on my lap, giving up. There's no way I can text him. The screen burns too much.

An hour passed, and conditions didn't get better. I was still partially drunk, and I was lost. Sitting still and being tipsy didn't mix well. My brain clouded and my vision blurred in flashes. I closed my eyes. This is the best I could do at the moment, unfortunately. I had no idea how to get back. I've never been so far away from what I knew. This was the bad side of Philly. One wrong turn and I could get myself shot. My breathing slowed, and despite the extreme amount of danger I was in, I fell asleep.

The sound of footsteps woke me. It wasn't Ross at all. Just another group of people, primarily men, walking past. I checked my phone again. It was 4:30 AM. Still no sign of Ross. He was probably sleeping carelessly in the hotel room I booked, with that girl. He probably didn't even care about me anymore. The alcohol had long since worn off, but if I walked more, I would be even more lost. Headlights searched the streets, but I knew again that it couldn't possibly be Ross. They only have the bus, which is leaving tomorrow for Maine.

A large white van drove slowly down the street. The headlights fell on my shoes, and the van pulled to a stop in front of the doorway. The car door slammed, and someone rushed out towards me. They were a shadow, and I couldn't even tell who it was. Weak, I let them pick me up. The person was too bulky to be Ross, but I let them take me anyway. It was better than just sitting there.