Chapter 3
Hobie felt a faint tingle in the back of his skull, sensing that something was off. Even if you weren’t actively in danger, perhaps you were a danger to yourself, he felt that something was wrong. He stopped for a moment, the music fading as he sobered up for a moment.
“Shit. Where are they?”
He soon realised his mistake. He left you alone in a venue, a bar, full of older, drunk people, knowing damn well that you didn’t do well in crowds, to put it lightly. He let out a string of curses, thankfully not loud enough for anyone to hear over the blaring music. He pushed himself through the crowd, not even caring about how many people he bumped into. All he cared about was you, despite not being good friends. Barely even acquaintances.
He looked around desperately, checking everywhere in sight where you possibly could have hid. Then, he saw the door to the bathroom, and his spider-sense went off again. Assuming you didn’t leave, he went in shouting for you. He may not have been fully intoxicated, but he wasn’t sober enough to care about the peace he’d disturb.
“[F/N]?” He yelled. “[F/N], where the bloody ‘ell are you?!”
That tingly feeling hit him again. He went quiet for a moment, listening intently to his surroundings. You were in the nearest stall, crying your heart out over some stupid mistake. Well, it wasn’t just a mistake to you, it was a reminder of every single shitty thing that’s made you feel so goddamn awful. Your breath hitched as you realised it was Hobie’s voice, and you desperately tried to stifle your pathetic sobs. Deep inside, you wanted to tell him everything. You needed someone to listen. You needed someone to actually hear how bad of a state you were in, instead of dismissing it as just being “lazy” for once. You needed help.
A soft knocking is heard from the other side of the door. You knew it was Hobie, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this. You hugged your knees as you buried your face in your knees to at least muffle any whimpers that would escape, digging your nails into the fabric of your pants. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if your legs started bleeding through the damn jeans.
“[F/N], I know you’re in there.”
Hobie sighed, trying to be gentle with you. You didn’t know how much he saw himself in you, how he used to always repress and hide his feelings. He knocked yet again, then it went quiet. Hobie knew that he shouldn’t pry on you. He leaned on the sinks for a while, feeling the guilt eat him up from the back of his head as he focused on the muffled music from the concert.
After god knows how long, you rose to your feet, focusing your breathing as you stumbled to keep your balance for a moment. Your knees felt weak. All of you felt absolutely powerless. You were still snivelling, snot slowly seeping from your nose as a result from your ugly cry. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your jacket, the mix of tears, beer and snot leaving a sticky residue on it.
You hesitated before opening the door, your hands were shaking, as well as your breath.
Hobie didn’t immediately react. He took a deep breath, walking up to you as he put a hand in his pocket, his other hand reaching out to you.
“Let’s get you home, yeah?”
You stared at the floor in shame. Your voice was hoarse from crying, as well breathless.
“Yeah.”
You choked out, wiping away your tears yet again as they just wouldn’t stop streaming down your face. You reluctantly took your hand in his as he started leading you out of the venue. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, helping you through the crowds of people. You stayed quiet throughout the entire walk, keeping your eyes focused on the ground. After a while, Hobie broke the tense silence, speaking softly;
“What happened?”