Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Fourteen

-Andy's POV-

Giving up on studio, Brooklyn, Jack and Mikey went to gym whilst Rye got his phone back and Blair watched after me. I was listlessly watching television, tired even of sleeping, when the news cut into whatever show was playing – There was an active shooter in Slough Station. As in, the station that Liv and Rye were in right at that very moment.

The fact that it was my fault that either of them were there at all made me regret the past 24 hours with a violent passion against myself.

"BLAIR!" I called out, watching the stats play out on the TV screen – It was known that at least 3 people were dead, 10 more injured. What if Liv and Rye were one of those numbers? I screamed for Blair again, impatient for him to come in. I was struck between wanting to turn the TV off, horrified by what they were saying, and needing to keep it on to know what was happening.

"What's up?" He asked, finally coming in, assuming that something was wrong with me. I couldn't speak, so I merely pointed at the television as they showed low quality videos of what was going on.

"Oh. Oh my God," he said quietly. "Have you tried calling them yet?" I'd been too shocked to be able to think of any logical thing to do in the moment. I dialed Rye's phone – it rang, rang, rang, went to voicemail – Same with Liv's. I tried Rye's again out of desperation, counting the number of rings before, once again, it went to voicemail.

"They're not picking up," I reported the news to Blair.

"Let's let the others finish gym first. No use panicking them when we don't know all of the information ourselves. They may be nowhere near the shooter, for all we know – They could even be on their way back. We'll wait until the boys get back, and if, by then, they still aren't picking up their phones, we'll head on over to the station."

"Okay," I said, but the plan seemed anything but okay to me. If they were safe and on their way back, then why wouldn't they be picking up?! Yeah, I wanted to hope for the best as well, but I also wasn't stupid. I didn't want to just sit around and wait, I wanted – no, needed – to know if they were alright.

It suddenly donned on me that this was what Rye must've felt yesterday. The realization shook me straight down to my roots. In less than a day, things had gone from golden and fine to stress and unrest that appeared to have no end, I knew, that it was all my fault.

It was because of me that Rye and Liv were at Slough Station, and quite possibly in peril danger. It was because of what I'd done that Blair was sat looking after me when he could've been out doing more productive things. I was why Brooklyn's endless hyper-happiness had disappeared, why Mikey was upset, why Jack was worried. It was because of me that fans were left outside, waiting all day, only for none of us to come out. Any worry in the fandom? Once again, that was all me. And, unless I miraculously became a mad scientist and was able to create a time machine, I had no idea how to fix any of it.