Afterwards: An "After" Fanfiction

Chapter 23: Stockholm Syndrome

A/N: This chapter is basically the "Hardin's diary" chapter. T/W drug abuse.

I smell smoke.

Not the kind that would raise an instinctual alarm, but the good kind. The kind that's typically accompanied by a freshly rolled blunt and some good friends. The room is dark, though, too dark to pinpoint exactly where the scent of weed is coming from or who's smoking it.

There's one flickering light bulb off to the corner. I'm in some kind of warehouse. My head is pounding and my mouth is as dry as the Sahara. I need my fix, and as I look to the left and make out a shadowy yet familiar face, I know I'll get it.

"What a fucking night." Zed reclines on the hood of a stolen car. Who stole it, I don't quite know. But what I do know for sure is that in Big Shot's hideout, nothing was purchased legally. "Leave it to old BS to trust us with such a haul." He pulls a wad of cash from the pocket of his jeans, thumbing through the large bills before wiggling a dark eyebrow at me. "To be honest it was my first time handling ketamine but based on these hundreds, I don't think it'll be the last."

A group of men talk in hushed tones close by, but their voices die down as they leave the room. One turns to look Zed in the eye before departing. His form is mountainous and menacing. His hands alone could shatter bones. "You kids did alright tonight. Keep earning like you did and it definitely won't be your last."

"Thanks Big Shot!" Zed always sucks up to him. Sort of a Teacher's Pet, if you will. But when the teacher in question is an underworld drug dealing king pin, sucking up is your best bet.

I wrap my arms around myself. Though it's the middle of July I feel like I'm going to freeze to death. My body feels as if it's falling apart, and there's only one thing that can hold it together. After the boss exits his warehouse I approach my bandmate. "Hey...you got any more of that stuff?" I know he has some. He always has some. Zed's been so generous with his drugs lately...always making sure I get my fix.

His dark eyes look apathetic. "Sorry bruv. Fresh out."

"Very fucking funny. You had like 3 kilos yesterday."

Zed takes a break from counting his cash to laugh. "You mean the 3 kilos I sold before you could take them and do God knows what with them?" How do you think I made this?" He waves the bills like a fan in my face. "Yea. Gone."

I feel my blood pressure dropping. "Well come on...I'm dying here. You gotta have something for me."

Zed smirks slightly and for some reason, I feel like he was counting on me saying exactly that. Must be the paranoia. "Well in that case, if you really need something, you can have your pick. Weed, cocaine, K, it's all yours."

My eyes widen and my neck begins to twitch. "Come on man, where?"

Pointing to the office, my bass player nods his head.

"But that's Big Shot's stash. Won't he be pissed?" The other shakes his head. I'm still not sold. Or maybe I am, maybe I just need him to invalidate my many concerns. "Even if we did, and I'm not saying we will. But how would we even get in?"

Zed twirls a silver key around his finger. "That's not his whole stash, just the leftovers he was planning to give to his cronies as payment, us included."

Alright. I'm convinced.

We make our way over to the office. The key fits snugly into the lock and when I hear a click I begin to perspire. Behind the door lies a stash of illegals so pure and plenty it makes my heartbeat skip just looking at them.

"Go on. Have your share. Take as many as you'd like. No harm done." Zed's voice is soothing to me as he coaxes me forward. "That's it. Just grab a few. They're technically yours anyway."

I'm leaning forward, practically salivating at the sight before me. But before I can get my fix...

I woke up.

"Hardin. Hardin, wake up, we're here." Nate's voice pulled me out of my dream.

"Huh? Where are we, how long was I out?" I felt disoriented. I barely remembered dozing off. It was dark out, and the tour van was parked in front of a tall, well-lit building.

"We're at the hotel. Sweden, remember?" Zed rolled his eyes, the same dark eyes that had burned into me in my dream. It was more of a memory, actually. Except in real life, Big Shot came back to grab his gun from the office right as Zed had opened the door. We never took a thing. Probably why Zed and I were both still living.

"Stockholm, get ready for One Direction!" Logan hops out of the van eagerly, carrying two guitars and a set of drum sticks. "Don't wanna get robbed like last time."

"I told you guys last time to bring the gear into the hotel but nope. You lads were too tired and lazy." Nate harped. He picked up a mic stand and tapped me on the shoulder. "Speaking of which...are you done with your beauty nap Hardin? Wanna help us get this stuff inside?"

"Maybe he needs some motivation." Zed snickered, holding the side of his nose. "I got a bump if you need it."

Tessa's face flashed in my mind. "Fuck off. I'm awake." There was no way I would let her down. I grabbed an amp, lugging it through the lobby and into the elevator. Logan was already in the suite, doing rails off of the glass table. Resisting was harder than I thought.

Zed pushed past me into the living area, taking a seat next to our drummer and smiling. "See? No harm done." His words made me flash back to that time in Big Shot's office. Was he really just looking out for me back then?

"I don't know..."

"I see the party has already started." Nate was the last to come upstairs, and he pursed his lips when he saw what we were up to. "Whatever. First night of the tour is first night of the tour. I guess it's worth celebrating. Just be up in time tomorrow for sound check." With that, he took the liberty of dragging all of our suitcases into the bedrooms before turning in for the night.

"Well, are you gonna join me or am I partying alone?" Logan questioned, holding out his rolled up dollar bill for one of us to take.

"All you, my friend." Zed passed the bill to me.

"One line wouldn't hurt. Right?" At least, that's what I told myself before saying, "one more." Then another. And another. And another. Pretty soon the boys and I were wired and gambling with Logan's old deck of cards. I felt comraderie like I never had before. I've always felt like the boys were family. But at that moment I knew for sure that we were inseparable. I couldn't even remember my reason for wanting to stay sober. It was something important, I was sure. But it was nothing compared to One Direction.

Just then, Nate's sleepy voice called me from the other room. "Hardin your phone has been going off like mad. I'm trying to get some rest!"

I was too high to speak to whoever it was. "Just answer it for me, tell em I'm not here."

"It's a girl!" He yelled a bit louder.

My heart nearly dropped out of my ass. "Tessa?!" Everything came flooding back to me then. My promise to her, her father's drug-addled life and subsequent death, the fight with her mother...every memory came crashing into me at once and it took the breath from my lungs. I had to speak to her. Tell her everything was fine and that she shouldn't worry, that I'd see her soon. That I loved her. Everything but the last part would be a lie but it was better than ignoring her if she needed reassurance.

"No," Nate said drowsily as he held my phone up to his ear.

"What? Then who the fuck is calling me so late?"

Double checking the caller ID, he sighed and held the device out to me. "It's Molly."