• Chainsmoker • Masky × Reader •

7

For the past week, Tim seemed more distant. He talked much less, zoned out, and when he did talk, it was dead, scared sounding, or distant, as if he was mentally lightyears away from everyone. He wasn't dead weight though, and even if he was, no way would (y/n) let him be cut off.

Brian seemed to not notice too much or just not care. (Y/n), on the other hand, was far too aware and far too worried for her friend.

Currently, the trio were in a hotel room, one more expensive than most others they went for. This time, they got a room with three beds. One was sectioned off in a separate area. That one was to be (y/n)'s.

(Y/n) sat on the bed Brian claimed with the owner, Brian himself, chatting away about some random topic, glancing over at Tim a few different times. He was staring out into space, unblinking and disturbingly still.

Brian seemed to notice her worrying and glancing, but didn't notice much off with Tim. It seemed he must have times like this every so often.

"Hold up," (y/n) motioned to pause the conversation she was having. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood all in one motion before making her way to Tim.

"Hey, Timmy-boy," she started with a small smile that soon faded when she got no response. "Hey, Tim?" Again, nothing.

"Tim!" She was a bit louder, making the poor man jump and look over at the concerned woman. "Hm? What is it?" He questioned, staring at her with a  confused look.

"Are you okay? You were like... Really zoned out..." She asked him, tilting her head. Tim nodded. "Y-" he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry, (y/n)," he smiled, but it seemed forced, fake. She stared him over for a moment before sighing. "If you say so..."

"Hey," Brian spoke up. "It's late. We should head to bed now, maybe?"

(Y/n) and Tim both looked at the clock. 11:48 o'clock. They both nodded. "Night, guys," (y/n) said as Tim got up to go to his bed and Brian started to strip himself to his boxers to sleep, walking herself to her secluded bed area.

She took a while to fall asleep, scared of a nightmare sneaking up on her. Luckily, she slept with no disturbances like that. Except, close to around the time they would be waking up, a man screaming at the top of his lungs woke up the once peaceful woman.

She shot up, quickly running to the others to see what it was. Tim was in bed, screaming loudly as he convulsed and shook. "Tim?!" She yelled, running over to his bed as Brian slowly was woken up as well.

"Tim! Tim, wake up!" She yelled to him, scared to try to touch him but scared to leave him be. Brian was now up, standing on the other side of the bed, confused and worried for his friend like (y/n). Now she knew how they felt when she was having these spells.

As soon as (y/n) laid a hand on Tim, he stopped, becoming still and quiet, and woke up, eyes slowly opening to look at her. "(Y/n)?" He mumbled groggily.

"Oh thank God..." she mumbled under her breath before giving the man a hug. "Thank God... Thank God. Thank God," she said multiple times, happy to stop hearing her friend sound so disturbing, pained, terrified, and hateful.

He said nothing, but returned the hug. They stayed like that for around a minute before (y/n) pulled away. "Are you okay?" She then asked, eyes wide with worry.

The man nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "Yeah... I'm fine." (Y/n) softly sighed, smiling some. "Well... Good," she smiled at him, Tim actually returning the smile. This time it seemed genuine.

"Guys, we gotta go. It's that time," Brian spoke up quietly, the woman nodded and Tim inwardly groaning. The nightmare seemed to slightly improve his distant attitude.

Brian started driving, Tim laying down in the back seat and (y/n) lazing chilling in the passenger's seat by Brian. The radio was on, playing old songs from the 90's and 80's, reminding the trio of their childhood.

Soon, the lunch hour of old music was over, returning the radio station over to current pop and rap songs. The nostalgia still rested with them even with the return of those songs.

The day seemed to pass away quickly. It was as if only a couple of hours passed before it was sundown and they were getting another hotel room.

They settled on a highly cheap place, only one bed again. Brian chose the bed since usually he got the floor. Tim, a chair. (Y/n), the floor. She had her own blankets and cover though, so she was fine with it.

They stayed up for a while, watching the small, shitty TV in the room, talking about random topics. Like usual now, Tim had very little input on every said and done. They all were up until 11 p.m. when Brian went to bed.

Tim was sitting in the uncomfortable looking chair, staring out the window. (Y/n) kept looking over at him from her makeshift cot on the floor, blankets shielding her from the cold air of the hotel room. She was concerned for Tim.

Then, just as she looked at him again, he was staring straight at her. She smiled softly as a nice gesture, to which he returned, but his smile was very different.

It was sadistic, creepy, and disturbing. A smile of a maniac. His eyes were dimmed, turned from their somewhat light color to almost black and had the look of a murderous mad man.

(Y/n)'s blood went cold with this one look and smile. It scared her, even.