T w e l v e

S e n s e  o f  S e c u r i t y

"You feeling better?"

"Can you speak quieter please."

"I am, [Y/N]."

"Then shut up."

George sighed and shook his head, slipping out his phone as he did. "Honestly, we want to know if you're actually okay or not. We need to know."

I only responded with a nod, and returned to nibbling on my pasta as slowly as possible. The floor was not as comforting as before to me, and the dark silhouettes that always over-loomed me reflected my insecurity and urge for a duvet - and my bed.

I then spoke, "Go. I'm sure they would very like to see the sane one of us."

"Please, cut the shit out of this." George fumed and replied, and I raised an eyebrow at his sudden burst. Almost surprising. He would never raise his voice...not to me. He then sighed, a signal of his self-control. "Look..."

I sat a little straighter, and placed my plastic bowl down. "I know, George." My voice was calm, never a single waver. "But, I'm fine now. I'm not fainting ever the slightest and my head is fine."

"And I know that you don't understand this at all," George huffed. "I care, like I want to make sure that you are fine. That's what caring means."

I was a little annoyed. Yes: I knew what caring and sentiment felt like. The most sensitive feeling that could easily be pierced from any direction. Even to your closest friends and family. I knew how that felt, and it's even harder to feel it when it came to him.

Retorting, I let the silence continue. But before he left the door, I said to him, "I know what is caring, but I'm choosing not to acknowledge it at the moment."

"Believe me: you do" George frowned and lastly added: "You just don't know it yet."

His exit began my contemplation. However, it was never the conversation (or rather argument) we just had. As I sat back and ate, my pen slipped of the top of my ear and gentle tapped onto the book I had open. The page had words written all in caps:

'APOLLO. STORM. DOGS'

They were the only words I had remembered. Nothing else.

So throughout my break: all I did was write ideas at what it all meant...not knowing that in the end: I concluded with no links other than wondering something else...

Who even were those two people in the flashback?

____

The walk was short by distance. But it felt too long just to get from the nearby hotel to the building centre. We were all in a group, with my own self ambling behind Caff and Kim. I decided to walk alone: knowing that I needed some space after what happened. 

They told me - specifically George and Kim - that I fainted; I had a sort of seizure. But after ten minutes, I returned back to normal and my heartbeat was very much back to it's repeated pattern and pace. Nothing of an anomaly or extreme heartbeats. That was the annoying part really: the paramedics had concluded that I was fine.

I thought I was too, but I would never want to experience it again. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me...or so I remembered. My parents or my memories never spoke of any fatal accident. But why now? Did it relate to the flashbacks?

Martyn had jumped towards my side and I greeted him with a smile and a sincere nod. We both kept silent, and I appreciated it a lot - assuming it would be the only peace and quiet I would get today.

Soon we arrived back at the booth, and we all prepared for another couple of hours of signings. I dropped my bag as usual, getting my pen out.

"You feeling okay now, [Y/N]?" Turning around, the voice spoke with concern. Hannah tilted her head to the side and I nodded in regards of her question.

I answered back, "A little tired...I'm not really ready for today's signing." I gritted my teeth, earning her sympathy through her grin. 

She lifted her hand up, and it fell over my shoulder. Though as she almost touched, Hannah retreated back with a smile. Her presence left and I soon felt the growing pain in my heart, slowly thumping away out to my body.

With a blink, I sauntered closer to the door again; I heard the voices and layers of sounds once more on the other side. It had been two days since I was seen, petrified like a doe in headlights that I could sense the concern and shock among everyone who had seen me. Me and Lewis. He had been there: and I had just humiliated myself in front of him.

'I must've looked like one of those NPCs in horror games to them.' I thought in my head with a shake. Till then: there was no choice but to live with it. 

People had seen me: some of them must've been a fan or viewer as well. They would remember it as well.

As I left to walk over, my mind ignored the outside world and reverted back to my head to think. Everything was not in place; I had remembered what had happened as I fell but not entirely the chronological order of the voices. Once I sat down, I subconsciously took my pen and left it on the table. There was already a long line - not as bad as Friday and Saturday - ready to meet and introduce themselves to us.

'She said something else...something about Apollo.' It was an easy deduction: Apollo was adopted by the girl: by having more concern than the other. There is a storm. The two voices are looking for Apollo before the storm hits...

I widened my eyes as I leaned down under the table, grabbing my bottle of water. With a quiet gasp, I said: "They're near something...something close by the forest they are in. The dog would have escaped out and probably gone off to find shelter...or food...or water."

"Hey, [Y/N]." I tiled up and bumped the part of my head under the table.

Hearing a wince, Caff asked if I was alright. He then apologized for jumping at me, even though I would never do so...not when I'm in my mind. We both gave reassuring smiles, before huffing away to begin our signings.

It was a boy first, called Callum. He wore a dark and loose plaid shirt over a plain white one, the front slightly tucked into his skinny jeans. As he leaned down, he pushed his round glasses and out of habit: brushed his blonde hair back. An artist by the looks of his thin hands that had paint marks, but also the movement as he placed his rather large painting of me and George on the table.

I felt a sudden lift, higher than the revelation I had found out. It was stunning, detailed and almost correct that it could pass down as a photo. As I titled it up, George and Caff lent beside me.

George was impressed whilst Caff was blurting out a wow back at Callum.

All I could say was, "This is...amazing."

"Thank you so much!" The boy shyly smiled and said, "You and George really help me at making people laugh and smile...and I didn't really have anything to give you: so I painted that."

George next to me nodded, "Mate. You didn't have to; just watching us tells us that."

"But this," I interrupted. Gazing at the boys eyes, I pulled a smile and spoke. "Thank you."

I leaned back down and wrote on the poster he bought, and both of us thanked him again for the canvas of us. Suggesting, George thought of putting it up in our flat once we go home. I agreed: it was beautiful, almost too perfect. And the fan was only sixteen. I couldn't really pick anything up about him, probably due to the distraction.

'A Distraction,' I thought whilst I signed another poster. 'Maybe that it'll help this...stormy thoughts I've concocted in my head...' 

The hour came by, and I was on my sixtieth signing. A lot of conversations about gaming and anything really were playing along. I hadn't notice until George mentioned it; and that I had never gotten rid of my smile.

My cheeky best friend raised an eyebrow, almost tugging my cheek in his hand - pulling of a childish act. I slapped his hand away and asked why he had done it.

"I don't actually know," George laughed. "You are clearly in a rare mood...scratch that. You are never in this mood unless we're recording." I then watched his face quickly flash an emotion of concern.

I rolled my eyes and spoke, "I am human; am I not allowed to be content once in a while?"

"You fainted and didn't let anyone touch you two days ago," George retorted. "It's either you're really happy about something or you're faking it."

His words seeped in, and I cast aside my mind closer to my conscience. What if it was true content that I was feeling. I never felt a lot happy often...well never notice it really. But I never knew the reason of being happy. Why now? Why think of the most silliest thing when I should be making people happy instead?

'Because you want to distract yourself,' In my head I reasoned myself. 'You want to make people happy, you accept the consequence of doing so. Your happiness is just a distraction.'

"[Y/N]," Blinking, I turned around and found George once more. He was finishing off a signing. I then turned around and found a woman standing.

I apologized and quickly signed her sword. By the looks of it, she only wanted everyone's signature, not clearly planning to converse with me nor George. By the time she left, George snorted and this time - I was the one who raised an eyebrow.

George shrugged, "Anyone could be a dick."

"Wow," I dragged on. "True words never been spoken, until George Kingston did."

All I got was a smack on the back of the head. And in turn, I decided to fiddle with his chair for the signing hour.

____

Rolling my bags to a halt, I looked around to find myself hidden in a crowd of people. The lobby was packed full, the Yogs all chatting about since it had been the day where we would leave London to go back to Bristol. They were all in their phones whilst I waited with them, constantly glancing up and back down onto the screens.

I had no reason to take my phone out, so I decided to walk over to Turps, Smith, Ross and Trott. All four of them were pretty much hogging the armchairs - talking about the weekend and what games we had played. I joined in, listening most of the time before Turps had to change the subject once he spoke my name.

"Hey, um." Turps caught my attention before my mind wandered. "[Y/N]. Can I talk to you for a minute."

That was caught my guard. The gears of my head began to speed up, and I nodded almost stoically to his question. We both took our bags and rounded over to the corner: where clearly no one could see us. There was suggestions forming, eager to know exactly what he was about to say. By his concern and facial features, Turps didn't mean it a business way. It was if it was more of a friend concern.

I then took the turn to ask him, "Alright, what did you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Are you alright? Because you've been ignoring someone for the past two days." Turps answered, looking down at me due to my height.

Replying, I said: "I don't recall ignoring anyone."

"Lewis." Turps said, eyes wandering over to the crowd. "Are you and Lewis okay?"

"Lewis," It was almost a whisper as it left my lips. "No...I haven't. Why would I ever?"

Turps sighed and replied, "It is that what happened? He did find you first. Apparently when he touched you..."

"What happened?" My eyes flashed with concern - and even curiosity. "I knew I had some seizure, but what about him?"

He only raised an eyebrow, disbelieved at my words. "What do you mean? Didn't you know he was with you?"

"Yes..." I recalled once more. "I uh...I remembered." I lied to him for the first time.

He didn't seem to believe it and gave me an unsure look.

Turps nodded, "Then yeah, Lewis seems to ignore you whilst vice versa. I'm just concerned if it had something to do with it."

"No," I trailed off - another lie as I said: "It's got nothing to with him...it was something else that I had been thinking at that time."

His mouth opened slightly apart, but I beat him to his words once I scowled back. There was no need to continue with the concern, because either way: Turps wouldn't get anything back part from my lack of knowledge of it. Honestly, I was just fed up of people asking if I was alright. What did they expect me to do, beg for their help?

We heard Smith shout at us, and it was the CEO's turn to hobble back quietly. I was left in the back, pondering with pursed lips. I looked at the- straight at my shoes - and truth be told: thought about what just happened. I knew Turps: he was just trying to be a good friend and colleague for the both of us. But implying that I'm ignoring him.

'Have I been? But it's all just because we've been doing different things?' I suggested in my head. 'Also...why would Lewis deliberately be ignoring me? He hasn't done anything wrong.' 

The constant unraveled thoughts forced me to scrunch my face in frustration. There were so many reasons, all to an uncertain degree that it could never be possible.

I was the one who acted that way, why would he would be ignoring me?

By the time we got outside, there were several Uber Taxis waiting for the rest of the Yogs. Kim, Hannah, Caff and Goerge we beginning to pack their bags in the back of Kim's car: a few cars down the pavement. But my eyes weren't in search for them. They were gazing at the man in front of me.

He shook Kev's hand, a small grin plastered on his face. In temptation, I wanted to appear in their radius; I wanted Lewis to know that I needed to talk to him. However: I didn't. I let the two men finish, looking around with a tint of boredom and impatience. There was a constant tap on my foot, but it stopped once as I looked straight up and met my eyes right into Lewis'.

All they showed was something I had not expected.

Immediately, I strutted up and carefully pulled back my bag before it could hit his feet. Lewis' body almost tensed, and I knew to fall back. I was growing more to curiosity by the second. I then questioned it, "Hey, are you alright?"

Lewis brushed a sweat off his forehead, his eyes wandering around as he spoke. "Yeah, totally bulldozed though. All those hugs and signings."

"How did the show go?" Changing the subject was a good tactic, and I continued to do so. "Was it great?"

Nothing. He nodded and said, "Yeah. It was...it was good."

"Wish I turned up," I bit my lip, forcing a faint smile. Lewis returned the same gesture. His eyes still not meeting mine as he answered.

"You weren't well, [Y/N]." Lewis' face faltered for any emotions, and it really irritated me. There was nothing to read from him. Was he hiding something? "Plus you scared the shit out of m...us, really."

It was my turn to nod. Then the silence began, as I couldn't form the correct words back at Lewis. All I could force out was a reassuring smile before I waved goodbye. It won't be until Tuesday that I will see him, and even then: I don't think it would be a while. There was a pull in my body, urging to stop myself from even being close to him.

And his eyes.

It showed something very different. It's almost as if he had been looking through me rather than at me. Like a dead woman walking.

As I sat by the window in the car once more, I turned to find George and Caff fallen asleep. Hannah and Kim were concentrating on the road - conversing - so I left them to be. The notebook was still poking out of my bag as usual. The words were still written at the page as I left it, but I added another word. A feeling which I've longed realized that Lewis had carried.

Regret.

____

A/N: Chapter Twelve is done! And I am so happy that I'm getting this story on an actual schedule. Anyhow, this one was just a bit of a dilemma build up, so lots of purposely put rhetorical questions and a lot of thinking.

Don't worry, it's going to build up more in the next chapters. I can't really say anything because...spoilers. ;)

Hoped you enjoyed this chapter!

-SierraOwls