Your POV

Pain shoots through my leg as I wake up, and I stretch my body out, soreness and cramps everywhere. Maybe sleeping in a ball wasn't the best decision I've ever made.

"Finally, you're awake." I jump so bad I almost fall off the couch as I see PJ towering over me, his hands on his hips. I don't want to think about how long he's been standing there. "We've got plenty of plans for today."

I sit up, stretching my arms. "L-like what?" I ask, pulling my knees to my chest.

"I mean, we have a few months of being away from each other to make up for. Or did you forget about the fact that you completely abandoned me just to be with that total ass-eating jerk?" I look down at my knees, not wanting to say anything for fear of any repercussion. "Go get ready, we're gonna leave in thirty minutes."

"But...but...I don't have any, any clothes or anything," I mumble.

"You think I didn't prepare for that? Follow me?" He walks toward the hallway, and after a second of hesitation, I cautiously follow him, walking into a room at the end of the hall. He opens the door, and I'm filled with shock.

He's somehow crafted a nearly exact replication of my own apartment room, from the same bedspread to the same curtains. He opens the closet, and I'm horrified to finally find all the shirts and hoodies that have been going missing. He opens the bathroom door, and I'm horrified at what I see. All the exact makeup I use, all in the places I usually put them, even the exact towels hanging on the rack.

"Now you get to be home, but I'm still only across the hall. Now get ready, we have a busy day ahead of us." He walks out, closing the door behind him.

I slowly walk up to the closet, lightly grazing each garment with my hand. I suddenly pass a black Spirited Away sweater, and my breath catches in my throat. PJ must've thought this was my sweater as it was probably on the floor in my room, but I had only borrowed it from Dan one day, when I was way too lazy to pick up something from my own apartment.

I pull the sweater over my chest, taking in the scent. However, it only smells like clean laundry. Tears welling in my eyes, I drop to the floor, and crawl to the corner of the closet, hidden in the darkness. I throw my face into the sweater, sobbing uncontrollably. Not the normal crying, but the kind that only comes in the worst of situations. I can't breathe, hyperventilating, wondering if I might choke on my salty tears.

After about fifteen minutes, small sobs still escaping me, I take off my t-shirt and pull the sweater on, ignoring the wet patch of where my face had been.

Looking through the closet, I find a pair of black skinny jeans, along with fresh underwear and socks. After pulling on the clothes, I walk into the bathroom. Pushing how freaky this all is, I do my makeup and hair, brush my teeth, and pee. The second I zip up my jeans, I hear the bedroom door open.

"You ready, babe?" I physically cringe at that word, but reply, walking out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I mumble, lacing my hands together behind my back.

He sighs, a light smile on his face. "I love how you can barely do anything to your appearance, and still look like a fucking angel." I don't know if that's a compliment or not, seeing as he's basically saying it looks like I didn't try, but I know better than to say anything.

The entire day, he never lets go of my hand. Ever. Every time I used the restroom, he would stand in front of the lady's room door, to make sure I don't try and make a break for it. We go to a cafe, then go shopping, go to the park, and a few other things. Somehow, I completely numbed out the whole thing, and I might as well have been asleep.

After hours, we finally come home around six o'clock. We walk through the door, and I sneeze the second I enter as he kicks up dust.

"What? Are you sick?" PJ asks, a fake tone of concern.

"No, it's just...the dust," I reply, itching my nose.

I bite my lip as he rolls his eyes angrily. "What? You've been here for twenty four hours and you're already complaining?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" I hurriedly say. "It's just, you know, there's just dust."

"So this isn't good enough for you? I bring you here, make you a fucking room, and I get you all this shit, and you're gonna complain about some fucking dust?"

"I didn't want this!" I exclaim, and instantly clasp my hands over my mouth, wishing I could pull my words back. However, I already know it's too late.

He takes a step toward me, his face so close I can feel the air coming from his nose. "What...did you just say?"

"Noth...nothing," I breathe, but I know it doesn't matter.

"Look at me," he growls. I hesitate for a second, then look at him, and a second later, a hot, stinging pain grows through the side of my face as he hits me. Not a slap, but a hard hit, which I instantly know is gonna leave a mark. I look up at him, but there isn't regret or sadness in his expression, only anger. "Don't backtalk again. This is a warning." He turns on his heel, storms into his room, and slams the door behind him.

Dan's POV

Phil and Dodie sit on either side of me on the couch, Phil with his arm around me while Dodie rambles on and on.

"Why the fuck would he do this? We need to come up with a plan. We have to find him and attack when he doesn't expect it. Maybe we need to call the police,or-"

"You already know we can't do that," Phil interjects. And he's not wrong. Less than an hour after PJ left, he sent me a text from a new number, since I had blocked his old one.

Call the police, and I won't hesitate to hurt her. That's not a threat, that's a promise.

"Well, we can't just sit here and do nothing!" She exclaims, throwing her hands in the air.

"We know that. But we have to make a plan before we just run at him unprepared. We have no idea what he's willing to do."

I press the power button of (Y/n)'s phone, the lock screen lighting up with a picture of her and I, the first day when we met each other, when Phil and I had given her an all-day tour of London. Things seemed so much simpler back then.

I press a random combination of numbers for the thousandth time, trying to unlock her phone. Unsurprisingly, I fail. I don't know why I keep trying this, as if it'll give me the answer to solving this situation. However, I really can't think of anything better to do.

The crime lab had shown up this morning, but we dismissed them, telling them it had been a huge misunderstanding with one of our other friends(who we never even named). They seemed a little confused it, but left nonetheless. I wasn't willing to do anything that could possibly put (Y/n) in danger.

"Dan, can I see that text again?" Dodie asks. I hand my phone to her, and she stares at the screen as if trying to decipher an encrypted message. Finally, she hands the phone back to me, even more frustrated than before.

"What the fuck are we gonna do?"

Five Days Later

I open my laptop and pull up PJ's YouTube. Of course, he's been posting on all social media as if everything's normal. However, it's as if (y/n)'s fallen off the face of the earth. All of her social media profiles are plastered with comments from concerned fans, asking where she's disappeared to, if she's okay.

I pull up the last video she's uploaded, two days before PJ had shown up. How to start feeling again. I click on it, even though Phil's told me at least five times how every time I do so only hurts me more. I don't care how much it might hurt me though. I need to hear her voice. I watch her face lighting up, ranting about how things really do get better, how she's the happiest she's been in forever, how life seems to finally be coming together.

"And of course, there's still a few kinks here and there, a few times when I feel like life might be falling apart again, but at the end of the day, I know things are finally becoming the way they're supposed to be." The first few times I watched this, the irony of that statement would bring tears to my eyes. She doesn't deserve this. Hasn't she already been through enough? Doesn't she deserve a break? She's the last person on earth to deserve this.

Anger suddenly fills my veins as I throw the laptop onto the bed and jump up, stomping to the mirror hanging next to my wardrobe. I take in the unhealthy pale pigment of my skin, the hollowness under my cheekbones, the dark shadows under my red, puffy eyes. I can't take this anymore.

"Goddamn it!" I shout angrily, punching the wall hard enough to make the mirror fall down. I drop to my knees, holding my face in my hands, numb to the stinging pain in my knuckles. Hot, angry tears fall down my face, and I can taste the saltiness on my dry lips.

Suddenly, my bedroom door bangs open, and I look up to see Phil towering in the doorway. The confusion in his face turns to sadness, and I realize how pathetic I must look right now. Luckily, Phil is one of the only people who I can cry in front of, and I'm grateful when he closes the door behind him, bends down, and pulls me up by my not-throbbing hand. As I stand up, he immediately wraps his arms around me, and I sob into his shoulder, finally letting myself break down.

Your POV

"Ugh..." PJ mumbles in his sleep next to me. After the second night, he's decided we should start sleeping in the same bed again. And, obviously, what he decides is what goes.

I'm forced to lie in the most awkward position, on my stomach, with my left cheek against the pillow. Not only is the the right side of my face swollen, but he's found his favorite way of punishing me, which involves using his thickest belt on my back. It's a lot easier for us to go in public when the marks he leaves can't be seen. Not that we really go into public, anyway.

I've asked him if I could start making videos and such, but that was the first thing he had used the belt on me for. Why would I even think about wanting to make videos, when I have him to support me? I should be spending all my time with him, anyways.

As slowly and silently as I can, I carefully pull the blanket off me, crawling out of bed. However, I'm only able to take three steps before he stops me.

"Where do you think you're going?" I freeze for a second, then turn to see him, sitting up against the headboard.

"I just...I just need a drink of water," I answer lamely, even though it's true. There's no way I'd be able to sneak out anyway, as he's installed multiple locks on the door, and is extremely secretive about where he's stashed them all. However, that doesn't keep him from being paranoid.

"I told you if you needed anything, you need to just wake up and ask me," he growls. "I can barely trust you when I'm fully alert, let alone when I'm asleep."

I cringe, then sit back down on the bed as he stands up. "I'm sorry," I mumble, sitting straight up as to make sure my back doesn't lean against anything. He leaves the room for a couple minutes, then comes back with a glass of lukewarm water.

"Thanks," I whisper as he hands it to me, and take a sip. He lies back in bed next to me, and picks up his phone from the nightstand.

"I have to film a video today, then I think we could go out for a movie or something. Sound good?" He asks.

"M-hm," I mutter, nodding my head. I've already caught on to the idea that the best way to keep myself safe is to just nod my head and go with whatever he says. However, sometimes even that isn't enough.

Yesterday morning, I had accidentally dropped the  milk jug on the floor, causing it to spill all over the kitchen. I could barely mutter 'Oh, shit,' before his belt was on my back. The day before that, I had taken too long in the shower, and he forced me out before I had the chance to rinse the conditioner out of my hair. Some accidents are unavoidable, but according to PJ, that doesn't make them excusable.

A few hours later, after a breakfast consisting of burnt toast and stale cereal, PJ's filming a video in the living room. He's forced me to stay in his bedroom until he's done, not wanting any sort of disturbance. I lie face down on the covers, trying to get at least a wink of sleep. Although I've only been awake for around three hours, I'm exhausted.

A buzz comes from nowhere, and I instinctively sit up, spotting his phone on the nightstand.

He left his phone on the nightstand.

I quickly run to the bedroom door, shutting it as soundly as possible and twisting the lock, rushing back to the nightstand and picking up his phone. Luckily, he doesn't have a password, so I can easily get into it. As I swipe the screen, it opens to his current texts. And second from the top, I read Daniel Howell.

Call the police, and I won't hesitate to hurt her. That's not a threat, that's a promise.

Well, he's right about the not hesitating part, but I know there's no way Dan would've called the police after receiving a threat like that.

I glance back at the door, then go to Dan's contact info, and press the call button.

"Come on...come on..." I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as I hope to god he answers.

"What do you want now?" It's Dan's voice, but filled with anger and annoyance. I can't do anything but breathe into the phone, unable to get a word out.

"(Y/n)?" He asks, his tone totally different, filled with concern and anxiety. "Is that you? Where are you?"

"I'm at PJ's apartment. There's no way for me to leave. I don't know what to do," I hurriedly whisper, staring at the bedroom door.

"Don't worry, we're gonna get you out of there," he says in a hoarse voice. "Just hold on for a little bit longer, it'll be okay soon."

I can't help but sob into the phone, and start crying for the first time in days. I've been able to shut off my emotions, but hearing Dan's voice for the first time in days has caused me to crack.

"(Y/n), I know this is hard, and I can't begin to understand what you're going through right now, but you just gotta hold on a little bit longer. We're gonna figure this out. I'm not gonna rest until I know you're safe," He coos in a low voice into the phone.

"I...I miss you," I cry. I know I sound like a toddler, but I can't stop it anymore.

Suddenly, there's a huge bang on the door that causes me to let out a yelp of fright and nearly fall off the bed.

"Who are you talking to? Open the damn door!" PJ growls through the wall.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" I hear Dan shouting on the other end of the line.

"I have to go," I whisper into the phone, but before I have the chance to hang up, the door swings open, PJ towering in the doorway with rage etched into his face.

"Put that down!" He lunges toward me, and I instinctively throw myself away from him, falling off the bed as the phone tumbles out of my hand. PJ looks at the screen, looks back at me, then hangs up the phone.

"You are going to regret that," he growls in a low voice, stepping slowly toward me as I cower into a corner, blood pulsing in my ears.

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I finally finished drivers training ahhhh. If I had gotten one more problem wrong, I would've failed, but I was one of the only people to pass the first time. The instructor said I need to work more on being anxious while driving before segment 2, but considering I've been trying and failing to work on my anxiety for three years, I couldn't make any promises.
Please remember to vote, comment, and follow! This chapter is kinda killing me, but I also love it in some stupid, twisted way. Anyway, thanks for reading! See ya later! 💜