20 July 2014 @ 09:48 pm
Title: Upside Down
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kaossbells & [livejournal.com profile] mcsparklez
Beta: the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] gypsyjaeger
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Belldom
Summary: Based on the mkmeme prompt: A rich music collector has almost everything he ever craved for, almost. One special object is still missing in his collection: Matthew Bellamy!
Warnings: language, violence
Feedback: Is like Matt Bellamy bathing in red glitter; fabulous.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and has never happened. We do not own any of the people mentioned and do not mean to offend.


[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3a] [Chapter 3b] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5a] [Chapter 5b] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7a] [Chapter 7b] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10a] [Chapter 10b] [Chapter 10c] [AO3]



London – 25.08.2013

Dom stared at the clock that was hung over the door out of the custody area. It told him he’d been in this tiny cell for a whole night and half a day. It was nearly 3 pm, but it felt like it had been a lot longer.

Did Matt have a clock to read the time from? Or was he clueless as to how long he’d been gone from their lives? Did he know they should have played a gig in South Korea a week ago? Dom had tried to ignore the clock before, but it had been an impossible task. He couldn’t not know how much time had passed, no matter how slow it went. He felt a twinge in his chest at the thought of Matt having no sense of time, of losing a part of himself, in a way. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered small details from the pictures and the video. Suzanne had taken everything from him. He couldn’t know the time or day, couldn’t even decide on his own clothes, and, Dom was sure of that, he was dependent on her to bring him food and water.

Did she punish him for breaking the rules? She probably did, denying him food until he’d do as she pleased. Was that why she had set Dom up? To punish him? It was a possible explanation. Knowing that she’d given Matt the blonde’s necklace showed him that she’d used his friends as leverage. And Dom knew Matt would do anything to keep them out of harm’s way, just like Chris and he himself would.

Another look at the clock told him that it had only been 2 minutes since he’d last checked. He sighed. What was Whitman taking so long? The CI had promised to update him constantly. So far, he hadn’t shown his face. There could be 2 possibilities for that, either Whitman hadn’t found anything incriminating yet, or he finally believed Thompson’s accusations and had abandoned Dom. The drummer didn’t know which would be worse, so he hoped he was completely wrong and Whitman was just taking the time because he’d found Matt and had to bring him here.

In the end, Whitman showed up half an hour later, out of breath, but clearly excited about something. His hair was sticking out into all directions like he had torn it over something. But his eyes were shining and a half smile curled the corners of his mouth. Dom jumped from his narrow bed so as to be on eye level with the CI.

“What is it?” the drummer asked, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“We found something. A lot actually. There is… I mean, all the evidence points at this Suzanne woman. But the problem is that it’s not enough to get you out. Yet. I interviewed some of your neighbours and there actually was one woman who had a recording.”

“Recording? What recording?”

“Well, she took a video of her children on the front yard, a few houses away from your front door. At first she didn’t think that it was too important, but when she realised that I was there to find out about some mystery woman, she immediately came forward. She caught Suzanne on tape! Lurking around your house! I confiscated the tape and it’s definitely her. It looks a lot like she was checking out the area, but she didn’t enter your house. But it’s at least something to go on.”

“I knew it!” Dom almost laughed in relief.

“But there is more. She obviously uploaded the video from your house to frame you. But she has also been seen around various internet cafés, as well. Why we cannot be really sure, yet. My best guess is that she is trying to cover her tracks.” Whitman leaned back against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And… and that’s not enough to get me out?” The blonde gave him an incredulous look as he stood as close to the bars as physically possible. How could that not be enough?

“No… You see, the thing is that Thompson is dead set on putting you away because he wants to close the case. He is a capable police man, but I think he has gotten a bit of tunnel vision and thinks there’s enough evidence against you. And all of what I’ve found… well, he could turn it against you, make it look like you framed her.” The CI sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a second before he looked at the drummer again. “He could probably turn it against you and accuse you of having forced her into helping you with the abduction and everything.”

Dom gaped at that. How? Whitman had all this evidence against Suzanne and still Thompson would blame everything on him?

“I’m sorry, Dominic. You have to be patient… trust me, I promise to find out more. I’m going to find Suzanne and try to find out more.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Dom exclaimed. “If you go to her now it’s all over!”

He had lunged forward when Whitman had come up with this idea and was now gripping the bars in front of his face tightly. If they weren’t there he probably would have strangled the man. Whitman couldn’t be serious, could he? The police standing at her door would just give it all away.

The CI sighed. “Dominic, I know it’s risky. But what other choice do we have? I’m gonna go alone and interview her as a witness. You did frequent that café a lot, after all.”

“But…” Suzanne would be able to put 2 and 2 together. He was sure of that.

“It’s our only chance to find out more without Thompson getting in our way. Please… Just trust me.”

With that, the CI turned and left, the sound of the door clicking shut too loud in the deadly silent room.

Dom was still gripping the bars tightly to the point of breaking the soft skin of his palm. If they talked to Suzanne it was all over. Once she found out that they were onto her there was no point in keeping Matt with her. Or alive, for that matter.

He quietly swore under his breath and prepared to let go of the bars. He felt like he’d break down here and now once he didn’t hold onto them anymore. Slowly, he lessened the grip until he completely let go of them, and stumbled backwards to the bed. There, he sat for an undefinable amount of time and just stared at the door Whitman had just left through.

He had to get out of here. The drummer just couldn’t wait until they interrogated this woman and found Matt’s dead body. He needed to find a way out of this cell and do it on his own; find Matt and bring him home. But how? This was a cell, after all. In a police station. Full of policemen. And cameras. It seemed like an impossible task.

But Matt’s in danger, he reminded himself. That fact changed everything for him. Maybe it was impossible to get out of here, but for Matt he’d always try the impossible. And if it meant to break out of a cell in a police station full of policemen and cameras, then so be it.

He needed a plan first, though. He couldn’t just kick down the cell door, that much was clear. He might as well just shout “arrest my sorry arse and lock me away until the end of time”. Not to mention that he wasn’t even strong enough to do that physically. Oh well. There had to be another way out, but how?

A guard passed his cell and checked on him. Dom pointedly ignored the man until a crazy idea struck him. The same guy had been checking on him the past couple of hours. Every hour on the dot, if he could believe the clock that hung above the door to the outside of the custody area. He hadn’t seen anyone else around, so there was a good chance that this policeman was the only one on duty. Which made sense considering he was the only person down here, they didn’t need a whole team to keep him locked up. No Hulk, after all. That could be very helpful for his plan to break out. He just needed to get the guard inside the cell and overpower him.

He watched the guard retreat and leave him alone again. Dom noted that he didn’t hold any visible weapons. Good. He just hoped that there was nothing hidden under the uniform either. No chance to check until you try, Dom. He scrunched up his face, looking up to the camera and trying to figure out if it was on. He couldn’t see a light indicating it was indeed working, but that didn’t mean it was turned off. Again he had no other choice than to hope that if it was on, the guard was indeed alone.

So many possibilities, so many risks. He closed his eyes. There was no guarantee for him, but if he didn’t try, there was the guarantee of never seeing Matt again.
___

Little under an hour later and Dom was buzzing with nerves. If this went tits up he would not only have to call the prison is new home, but he’d also lose Whitman’s trust, no matter if the CI believed him innocent. But all the voices in his head screaming at him how wrong and dangerous this was were silenced by the quiet voice of Matt saying his name. No going back.

Dom could hear the door open, so he quickly crumpled down next to the bed and curled in on himself. He whimpered, trying to sound as painful as he could and coughed for good measure. He figured his nerves did the rest of his act, as he could only guess that he had to be as white as a sheet. He felt cold sweat on his skin and his stomach wouldn’t stop doing summersaults. Dom wouldn’t have been surprised if he threw up right in this moment.

When the guard finally entered the space in front of his cell the blonde whimpered a quiet “help, please” and moaned pathetically. He turned his body around and fisted the sheet on top of the bed, and held his breath when he heard the key sliding into the lock of his cell. The guard approached him carefully and asked if he was alright.

Dom turned his face away from the guard. He wasn’t close enough yet. Dom wasn’t a good actor, and if the guard realised he was only faking it would all be over. He needed to get closer. Just a bit. Please.

It seemed like his lucky stars were with him today, because the guard crouched down next to him to check on his pulse. Dom turned and grabbed the guard’s shoulder. The momentum gave him so much strength that the guard wasn’t only pushed against the wall, but his head also hit it with so much force, that Dom could hear a loud crack before the policeman dropped to the floor, out cold.

The cell was quiet. Dom couldn’t hear any sounds outside, either. He waited another minute or two, but nothing happened. So he must have been right about the guard being alone. Thank God. He turned his gaze to the man lying lifelessly on his cell’s floor.

“I’m so sorry,” the blonde whispered and started to shake.

Shit, he hoped the man was alright. He just wanted to get out, not kill anyone. Carefully he walked over, mindful not to let his guard down in case the guard wasn’t unconscious (though the chance was truly low). He could feel a weak pulse when he touched the man’s wrist and felt a bit more relieved. He was torn between fleeing and shouting for help. But he could never explain the situation, and, even though he felt bad about what he’d just done, he just couldn’t abandon his plan now. This was his chance.

Carefully, he heaved the guard up and pulled him over to the bed. There, he removed his uniform and undressed himself to put it on. The clothes were a bit too big for his slim frame, especially since he’d lost some weight since Matt was gone, but he just pulled the belt tighter and hoped it would be enough. At last, he removed the cap from the unconscious man.

With the keys in his hands, he walked out of the cell and locked it, before he made his way to the door outside.

Dom took a deep breath and pulled the cap lower so his face was somewhat hidden. Quite frankly, he hadn’t thought he’d come this far, so his plan on what to do needed a lot of improvement. There was no time to do a proper plan now, sneaking through the station seemed to be the most logical. He hoped he could remember the way, getting lost would be a definite way back to his cell. He passed the guard’s office and got confirmation that he had been alone all the time. Dom could see his cell being broadcasted on the monitors, the guard still lying unconscious on his bed. He shook his head and proceeded to leave the custody area.

The fake policeman tried to calm his nerves and appear as casual as possible. He needed to look like he belonged so no one would get suspicious of him. He slowly climbed up the stairs and, after opening the door, found himself in a huge corridor, which luckily seemed to be deserted. Dom picked up the pace, the sooner he was out here, the better, and if no one was around he should use the just to hurry the fuck up.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he approached a pair of policemen. They were talking to each other, so Dom quickly slipped by them, keeping his eyes trained straight forward. He was just about to heave a sigh of relief when one of them called him, “Hey!”.

The blonde froze on the spot, debating what to do. Would running be an option? No, probably not. He might be able to escape these 2, but others would notice him and he’d be back in the cell. What about fighting? No, definitely not. He wasn’t strong enough to take on both, and even if he managed it by sheer luck, the commotion would alert other policemen. Fuck! He should have thought this through a lot more. He should have thought of something like this happening. How fucking naive had he been?!

“Got a lighter by any chance?” the policeman asked him.

Oh, thank God. He could do that. Stay calm.

“Sorry, mate,” he replied and surprised himself with how detached he sounded. He pointedly kept facing away from them, in case they would recognise his face. “Just stopped smoking”

“Aw, man, thanks anyway.”

Dom nodded and took that as his chance to leave. He quickly kept walking and navigated through what seemed like a labyrinth. At a junction, he came to a stop. He remembered he had to pass Whitman’s office to get outside. Shit. He could fool those policemen who had never seen his face, but Whitman? One look at Dom and the CI would recognise him. Would he bust Dom’s disguise? Or would he let him pass without another glance? He couldn’t be too sure. Yes, Whitman was on his side, but that didn’t guarantee him the man would ignore his duty.

His nerves only intensified with that knowledge. He was on his own with his, no Chris or Whitman to save him this time. He had to take responsibility for his actions if it went to hell. He shook his head.

No, this wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail. He’d come this far, he just had to pray his luck wouldn’t run out. Straightening up, Dom kept walking.
___

And it had indeed been a run of sheer good luck. Dom couldn’t quite believe that he had actually made it to Whitman’s office without having been caught. It was hard to look inconspicuous when you felt anything but, after all. And his nervousness was almost overwhelming. The door stood open and from his position on the other side of the corridor it looked empty. Could he really be this lucky? Whitman was probably out, working on his case, looking for Suzanne. Maybe he could… yeah, he even should. He needed to.

With a deep breath he summoned all what was left of his courage and took a step towards the office. There was indeed no one around, so he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. That was the moment he let his breath out again. Then he started to look around frantically. Even if he’d been lucky so far, there was no guarantee that it would stay that way. He needed to hurry. Suzanne. He needed to find out what Whitman knew. He needed to know as much as possible in order to put his plan into action. He needed to find Matt.

There were papers and photographs strewn all over the impressive desk and without having touched any of them, Dom was already on the verge of a nervous breakdown. How in the fucking hell was he supposed to find anything helpful in this mess? The CI could’ve at least tried to get some order into his research. The whole thing looked like a bureaucrat’s living nightmare. With shaking hands he pulled out a random sheet of paper and scanned the bullet points. Nothing interesting, at least not to the blonde. Then, in a sudden outburst of panic, he pulled out sheet after sheet, photo after photo. They were all connected to Matt’s abduction and Dom already knew most of what was written there.

“Address, address, I need an address!” he mumbled to himself when he finally came across a shiny, new plastic folder. It was still pretty slim, but it was signed “Suzanne MacConnel. Real name: Rachel Harrison”. Oh. So Suzanne had not even been her real name. Just an alias. Rachel… Rachel Harrison was the name of the woman who had taken Matt. His best friend and possibly… no, he couldn’t go there now. Not when he had to keep his head as cool as humanly possible.

“Focus, Dom,” he whispered as he flicked through the folder and finally found what he’d been looking for all along. An address. “Yes!” he said a bit too loudly and instantly clamped his hand over his mouth so as not to allow any more words to leave it. Getting caught now was even less of an option than it had been a few minutes ago. He was so close now!

Quickly he grabbed for a pen and a stray piece of paper and copied the address from the folder. It was not too far away, one of the fancier, more secluded neighbourhoods in London. But Dom knew it and maybe he could get there before Suzanne or Rachel or whoever that fucking psycho bitch really was got to know that the police was on her heels now. Dom was seriously scared of what might happen to Matt if she found out before he could get there.

The blonde folded the tiny piece of paper and put it into his backpocket. Then he looked around again. He’d been in this office so many times over the past few weeks, always with a mixture of hope and despair boiling in his chest. But never had he thought that he’d have to sneak into it like he just had. Never had he expected to end up in a cell as the prime suspect. Never had he… But that was his situation right now. He had to do this on his own. He had to find Matt and finally bring him back. It was obviously a very dangerous undertaking, but what had he lose? Yes, he had started to resign himself to the thought of maybe never seeing Matt again in the past. But… But no. Not if there was even the slightest chance, the tiniest possibility of saving him. What would the others think when they found out about his prison break? What would Whitman do? He had knocked out an officer on duty, after all. Hopefully the guy was okay…

“Focus,” he repeated to himself and shook his head so as to get rid of all unnecessary thoughts. Getting out of the station and finding Suzanne’s house was all that counted right now. It was his first and foremost goal for the next hour or so. Then… then there was the problem of actually breaking into the house, finding Matt, and getting him out again without anyone getting hurt. Well… he didn’t care much about Suzanne getting hurt, maybe he would even welcome that. Because if anyone deserved it, then it was definitely and without doubt her.

The drummer pulled himself out of his reverie of bringing the one who had brought all this misery onto them to justice and instead put the scrap paper into his backpocket. There were other things he had to think about now. First he had to get out unnoticed. Then he had to find a way to get to Suzanne’s house. Did he want to call Chris? To put him at ease? If ease was even the right word for it… What would he do when he arrived there? If he arrived there. His head was full of those questions when he heard some people talking outside the office and his whole body instantly went into red alert. He held his breath as they walked past the door and only let it go when he couldn’t hear them anymore.

Close call, he thought and dared to take a step towards the door. Out, out, out, was all he could think about and it made him consider how Matt might have been thinking the same. Probably many times before. The thought about his friend’s desperation alone sparked another bout of determination in his chest and gave him the final boost of courage he needed to take the last steps towards the door. His situation was clearly one of now or never because time was a luxury he didn’t have. So he peeked through the gap between door and frame and, when he felt like no one would see him, he snuck out and quickly hurried through the corridor into the direction he had walked so many times before, never happy but always free to do so.

It didn’t take him long to reach the foyer, but he knew that it might become the hardest part of his escape as there were always more than a few people around there, especially this time of the day. Of course he had to be right. There were policemen and civilians all over the place. The former preparing for their lunch breaks or coming back in from some operation or simply a smoke. The latter complaining about noisy neighbours, parking tickets and the general (bad) state of things. But contrary to his expectations this quickly became his greatest advantage. Everybody was busy and no one paid him any attention as he walked past to make his escape. Yes, he was probably on some CCTV recordings already, but who cared? As long as he had enough time to get to Suzanne’s place before the police found him, nothing else really mattered.

It had been so long since he had last seen Matt that he didn’t even know what to expect in case he could really get to him. What would he be like? Exhausted? Hopeless? Angry? … Broken? No… No, those thoughts weren’t helpful at all. No, he needed to find and save him. That was all that counted. Everything else could be dealt with afterwards. There was nothing they couldn’t get through as long as they were together. Together they’d already come through so much before.

With that thought in mind he made his way out of the station, trying not to break into a run. He walked and walked and walked until the imposing building was far behind him, nothing but a memory at best. His mind was focused on the task at hand. There was nothing more important right now. His hands were buried in the pockets of the uniform he had stolen from the man who had hopefully been found by now. The streets were filled with people, some obviously Londoners on their way to and from work, some tourists. If you had spent as much in the metropolis as Dom had, telling inhabitants from visitors became second nature. And as some of the more openly touristy people eyed him as if they were thinking about approaching him, he figured that the uniform wasn’t really an advantage anymore, not outside the station.

So there were two things on his to-do list before he could put his actual (half) plan into action. Get rid of the uniform and call Chris. Because yes, he needed to inform his friend. The bassist deserved to know what was going on. But first the uniform. It was really attracting too much attention and attention was the very last thing he needed right now. It wasn’t the easiest task, though. The streets were filled with people and as far as he could see there was no place he could get rid of his current set of clothing without raising suspicions. His brain was working at top speed and when he passed yet another coffeehouse, he acted on impulse. Maybe all those people could actually help. So he went in and squeezed through the mass in front of the busy counter. It took him less than two minutes to get to toilets. Without looking at anyone directly, he just went in and closed the door of the stall behind him.

This was the first moment since his bold escape that he took a moment to really breathe again. His heart had not stopped pumping viciously and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead. But there was no time to dwell on… on anything right now. So he took of the heavy jacket and worked his legs out of the black trousers. Underneath he had still been wearing his jeans and tee, so he wouldn’t have to run around naked, at least. That would’ve brought him more attention than he could’ve borne.

Shaking his head so as to get rid of that ridiculous thought, he took the scrap paper out of the trousers. He also retrieved the wallet from one of the pockets and looked through it. There wasn’t much money in it, but the couple of coins would be enough. He didn’t plan on taking a holiday, after all. The drummer didn’t feel like extracting anything else, though. This was someone else’s belonging, it was bad enough that he’d knocked the poor guy out, he didn’t want to become a thief, as well.

He pushed the wallet back into the pocket and folded the uniform. Then he opened the lavatory cistern and stuffed the bundle into it. He closed it again and stuffed the paper into his own back pocket. Only then did he start to listen to his surroundings again. There was a busy to and fro going on outside, so he waited another minute to make sure no one who’d seen him going in would be there to see him re-emerge in a different set of clothing.

He took a deep breath and another ridiculous thought shot through his head as he opened the stall again. The police had probably already found out about his escape and were looking for him. He had knocked out an officer on duty, escaped from custody and just changed his appearance. Yes, he truly felt like the main character of some awesome thriller movie. Matt would have probably been proud. If it had been a movie. Which it wasn’t. The situation was dangerous and he could get himself into real trouble. He didn’t really care, though, not if it meant that he had a chance at saving Matt.

Straightening his back and trying to look inconspicuous, he walked back through the cluster of people and made his way out of the front door. Not wasting any time, he started looking for a phone box. Dom obviously didn’t have his mobile with him, so he craned his neck to get a good look up and down the street. There was no phone box in sight, but there had to be one somewhere close to his location because London’s streets were literally covered with them.

Grim determination dominated his every action then and he hurried up the street, a direction less people seemed to be interested in as it led away from the city centre. Good, that was good. No one paid him any attention anymore and he kept his head down because he had never wanted not to get recognised more than now.

When he turned a corner he was suddenly struck by unexpected luck. There was a bus stop as well as a row of phone boxes just a few feet away and only one of them was occupied. Without thinking he broke into a run and only halted when he had almost bumped into the timetable. It took him a moment to find a bus that would at least take him to Suzanne’s neighbourhood. Then he spun around and shoved a few pounds into the ticket machine. Every move he made was fuelled by haste and the need to get to Matt as quickly as possible. The few seconds he had to wait for the machine to print his ticket felt like a lifetime already, and when he finally had the stupid little thing between his fingers, he put it into his pocket alongside the address. Then he turned around and hurried over to the phone boxes. The drummer ripped the door open and jumped into the booth like his life depended on in. Which it kind of did. He shoved his left hand into his trouser pocket and fished the remaining coins out of it just to push them into the phone. His fingers flew across the keys as he typed out Chris’ number faster than he could think. Then he pressed the receiver to his ear and waited for the familiar click to announce that someone had picked up. It was not more than ten seconds until it did.

“Dom? Dom, is that you?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He could hear a relieved sigh on the other end of the line.

“Fuck, Dom!” the bassist exclaimed. “Whitman said they were keeping you in custody and I wouldn’t be able to talk to you. He said that this other detective thinks you’re responsible for Matt’s predicament.”

“Yeah,” the blonde confirmed and nodded his head before he remembered that Chris wouldn’t be able to see the motion. “Thompson is dead set on getting me to jail. I won’t let him.”

“I never believed that anyway. Neither does Whitman, you know. He says he’s trying to get you out.”

“He is, but there’s no time for that. Chris, it’s someone we know. It’s that girl from Smith’s. Suzanne. Look, I don’t have time to explain, I need to get going.”

“Wait, what?” There was clear confusion in Chris’ voice. “How do you know that? Does Whitman know? And what do you mean, you need to get going?”

Okay, Dom could just hang up now, say his time was limited and the police wouldn’t give him an extension. But he didn’t feel like lying to Chris. He needed him to know, and even if Chris would lecture him, he needed to be honest with him.

“Look, I… I did something stupid. But it’s gonna be alright, okay?”

“Dom. Dom, what did you do?”

“I might have escaped from custody?” He shrugged and looked around the small booth. He kind of felt like a kid again, having stolen from the cookie jar. “Don’t say anything. I know it was stupid, but Whitman was gonna go to Suzanne and I couldn’t afford that. I’m gonna find Matt.”

There was silence on the other end and Dom could picture Chris in his mind. The bassist was probably trying to line up all information in his head and then figure out what to do. But Dom didn’t have time for that now.

He was just about to tell Chris a quick goodbye when there was rustling coming through the speaker and Chris finally spoke up again. “Where the fuck are you? I’m coming with you.”

Dom was a bit surprised that there wasn’t any lecture coming, because yes, he knew what he was doing was reckless and beyond stupid. But it seemed like Chris understood his motives perfectly. Or maybe the lecture was going to come later, when they had more time. It wouldn’t matter, though, because by then Matt would be back with them and that weighed a lot more than a possible lecture from the bassist.

“Chris, listen. I need you to stay at home and have my back. I never called you and you haven’t heard from me since I left your place, okay?”

“What-”

“No, listen,” Dom repeated. “We’re running out of time and I can’t pull you into this mess. I just needed you to know and make sure that you’re with me.”

“Of course, Dom,” a desperate sigh came from the speaker, “of course I’m with you. I’ll always be, mate.”

“Good. Then do as I told you. Please.”

Chris’ voice was barely a whisper. “Okay… Okay, Dom. I… Please be careful.”

Dom looked outside and saw the bus pulling up. He needed to cut his goodbye short.

“I’m gonna go now, Matt’s waiting,” and because he felt like he needed to say it, he added “I really love you, Chris. You’re one of my best mates and I… Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

He hung up before he could hear Chris’ answer. He didn’t want to hear it. Dom knew he was being quite dramatic now, but the whole situation had come crashing down in a matter of seconds. This was it. Either he’d find Matt and come home with him or go to prison, or he was going to die trying. No matter what happened now, everything was said and done. There was only one thing left on the agenda: Matt.

The drummer stumbled out of the phone booth and took quick steps towards the already waiting bus. Just in time he jumped through the already closing doors and flashed his ticket. Then he walked up the stairs to the upper deck of the bus and sat down at the back. He wouldn’t be able to relax, but he leaned back nevertheless and watched houses pass by. It was only a matter of time now until he reached his destination.

“Just hang on, Matt. I’m coming. Don’t worry,” he whispered to himself.

 
 
Current Music: Andrew Belle - In My Veins
Current Mood: bored
 
 
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