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-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
FRANK GALLAGHER WAS DEEMED MISSING in the eyes of his children, but none of them was going to file the police report just yet.
It wasn't like it hadn't happened before. Frank seemed to possess the unique ability to fall into the most obscure situations, always managing to swindle his way out of it with little repercussions to himself. Falling off the face of the earth for a couple of days just happened to be one of his many tricks, but to do so on the eve of the last Friday of the month was completely out of character. In fact, Frank always sat in eager anticipation of his disability allowance cheque for the entire morning, rarely even going to sleep from the previous night's antics. On one occasion, he had even tackled the mailman when he refused to hand the little brown envelope directly into his hand almost two blocks over.
"Have you seen Frank since last night?"
"No. Since Michael Jackson died?"
"Sorry about the door...and the window."
"Did you get an admission into the ER last night?"
The living room vibrated from the buzz of activity that ebbed through the room in soundwaves, each of the Gallagher family ringing around to try and locate their missing father - friends he had stolen from, old haunts that he had since been banned from and hospital emergency rooms that had a John Doe admission overnight. Each call ended in solemn disappointment, no sign of Frank Gallagher being seen since early the previous night. The last known sighting had occurred at the Alibi Room, but he had left before last orders; something wholly out of the ordinary for their father who regularly sank the remaining drinks at the end of the night.
"Anything?" questioned Fiona, her brown eyes scanning the worried faces of her brothers and sisters as the room fell into a pit of anxious silence. All leads had grown cold.
Ian sighed. "Nobody's seen him since last night." The evidence of last night's altercation stained his under eyes in hues of purple and red. His nose had ceased bleeding soon after the incident and a quick joint helped ease his pain, however, he had awakened to the growing bruises framing his nose. Ian had already fabricated a story for when a teacher would eventually inquire about their origin - he had simply been jumped on the El.
