Chapter Text
Charlie
Friday 20th October
Charlie Spring really hated Fridays. Yes, it meant the school week was over and the weekend was beginning, but that didn’t change anything for Charlie.
School had become somewhat of a torture session for him. The bullying had been relentless since he was outed last year. He didn’t know how it got out, but it did. Some of the older boys would make it their weekly mission to humiliate Charlie in whichever way they saw fit. Throwing stuff at him, sticking post-it notes with rude words on his back, shoving him into walls, snapping his drumsticks, knocking his books out of his hands as he walked to and from lessons - it was relentless.
Fridays were particularly bad for a couple of reasons. The first was joint PE with the year 11’s of the same form letter. Each year had 8 letters that were made up of at least 30 students in each form group. For Charlie, his form group was 10H. Sadly, none of his close friends were in his form. His best friend Tao was in 10C and his other friend Issac was in 10L.
They only shared a handful of classes together and PE wasn’t one of them.
The second reason Charlie hated Fridays was that for the last four years, the three Spring siblings were to come home, get changed out of their uniforms, and join their family for some ‘bonding time’ at the local Harvester. By ‘bonding time’, they meant enduring a two hour meal with his parents whilst they pretended to be interested in their children’s week. Charlie hated eating out in general, so adding his overbearing mother and father to the mix didn’t help with his anxieties.
Charlie had a bad relationship with food. It wasn’t that he hated eating it, it was just that he liked to eat on his terms. Eating out in public, where people judged his mostly-full plate whilst everyone else’s at the table was empty, brought unwanted attention to him. He didn’t need random people making snide comments about him when he already got that at home and at school.
As the bell rang for lunch, Charlie made his way to the picnic table that he, Tao and Isaac regularly occupied during the 50-minute lunch break. He managed to get there unscathed by any of the year 11’s he’d later see in his PE class. He took out his lunch box, although the thought of what was inside it made his stomach turn, and placed it next to his bottle of apple juice.
Tao came bounding over to him seconds later.
“Am I glad to see your ugly mug,” he joked, swinging his left leg over the bench and sitting side-on opposite Charlie.
“Hello to you too!”
Tao huffed as he emptied his lunch out of his backpack and swung his right leg over the bench so he was completely facing Charlie.
“Why so glum, buttercup?” asked Charlie, with zero sincerity whatsoever. He giggled as he watched Tao’s face fall into an unimpressed glare.
“You try having double chem with Mr Muniz and then we’ll have a chat about who’s being glum,” he barked. He flipped open the catches on his lunchbox and dived into his very sad-looking sandwich. He pulled an unattractive face of disgust as he swallowed his bite. “That’s absolutely fucking disgusting. Yan has been giving me tragic sandwiches all week.”
“You know, you could just make your own,” replied Isaac as he walked over to their table. His nose was always buried into a book and today was no different. He was reading a murder thriller novel by some old man that was written before they were even born. His taste in literature was so vast, it left Charlie seriously impressed.
“Like I have time to do that when I have to make this look as good as it does,” he grinned, pointing at his face. Charlie and Isaac looked at each other, eyebrows creased, and then back at Tao before erupting into fits of laughter. Charlie made a ‘pfft’ sound with his mouth.
“You’re all so fucking rude, you know that.”
Charlie pulled off the lid to his lunchbox and took out his sandwich. “Here,” he said, handing it to Tao as a truce. “Have this instead. A Julio Spring special.”
“No, it’s yours. I’ll just grab something from the canteen. There’s probably a salad or something still left by now. That’s if those dickhead year 11’s haven’t ransacked the whole place.” Tao made to get up, but Charlie adamantly shoved his sandwich in Tao’s face.
“It’s fine, take it. Save your money. I’m not that hungry anyway.”
Tao looked at Isaac and then back at Charlie. “But you haven’t eaten anything. I can’t take your lunch.”
Charlie shook his head. “I ate at the break,” he lied. He hadn’t eaten since his two mouthfuls of weetabix this morning. “I’ll just nibble on some carrots in the changing room before PE later.” He waved the sandwich once more, urging Tao to take it. “TAO! Take the damn sandwich!”
“Okay, okay! Fine!” he conceded, taking the item from Charlie’s hand and unwrapping it. It wasn’t anything to brag home about. Charlie’s sandwiches were just cheese and ham with a slab of lettuce, but Tao’s lunch made even that look like a gourmet sub.
The boys spent the rest of their lunch break conversing about their weekend plans and Tao’s legendary (his words) movie night which was taking place on Saturday. It was Charlie’s turn to pick the movie and he had opted for ‘A Knight’s Tale’, a 2001 classic set in 14th century Europe that follows a very young Heath Ledger as he lies his way into a jousting tournament. It was only allowed because ‘It’s medieval and not like that boring shit you usually bring’. Again, Tao’s words.
The 4th-period bell rang, alerting Charlie of his impending doom. The boys rose from their table and said their goodbyes. Tao went off to his GCSE art class and Isaac to his drama lesson. Charlie picked up his PE kit and backpack and headed toward the one place he would least like to be…
The boys' changing room.
★
Charlie was standing at the back of the group, trying to blend in to avoid any unwanted attention from Harry Greene and his posse of twats. Coach Singh, his PE teacher, stood at the front of the group calling the register.
“Harry Greene.”
“Here!”
“Lewis Yates.”
“Here.”
“Rhys Lowell.”
“Here, Miss!”
“Charlie Spring.”
Charlie’s reply was barely audible. “Here.”
Coach Singh looked around for Charlie, spotting his messy curls behind a tall, broad year 11 near the back. “Charlie Spring, you need to be a lot louder next time. Otherwise, I’ll mark you absent and your parents will receive a letter stating you didn’t attend my class.”
Charlie shrunk into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible as the entire class, including Harry, stared at him, snickering. He nodded so Coach Singh could see and she continued with the list. Charlie zoned out after that. He could feel Harry Greene’s glare burning into the side of his face. His cheeks burnt from the unwanted attention.
Coach Singh blew her whistle and split the class into their year groups for the first period, for which Charlie was grateful. His year would be doing laps of the field to warm up whilst the year 11’s took part in a game of football. She set the older boys up with a 5-a-side game whilst she prepared the year 10’s for their long run.
Charlie loved to run. If he was asked what his special talents were, they would be running and playing the drums. Both were ways he could release any pent up energy he’d built during his time at school or at home.
He took his place at the starting line and waited for his teacher to begin.
“We’re doing five laps of the track today, boys. After that, I’ll be splitting you with 11H for some rugby drills. On your mark, get set, GO!” she shouted, the shrill of the whistle piercing his ears.
He took off, setting his pace slowly to begin with. That’s where his classmates went wrong. They took off as fast as they could which, in turn, ended up biting them in the arse after lap 1 when they were inevitably tired. That was when Charlie would pounce and overtake them all.
After the third lap, Charlie was three quarters of a lap in front of the rest of his class, his feet guiding him round the track with ease.
“Come on, you lot! Charlie’s got laps on you! He’s making it look easy!” the coach shouted as she clapped Charlie through another lap. He thought this could be his quickest run all term, despite it only being October. Maybe he’d ask Coach Singh after the lesson to confirm it, as she kept track of everyone’s times. Charlie collapsed onto the grass as he crossed the finish line once more, trying to gain some of the air back into his lungs.
A loud whistle blew above him as the last of his classmates crossed the finish line. “Right, boys. Rejoin the year 11’s on the football pitch whilst I plan out the teams for the rugby drills.”
Charlie sighed as he rose to his feet and strolled over to the group of rowdy year 11s. He took one look at Harry, who had his arm leant against another year 11’s shoulder, and rolled his eyes. Harry Greene was a massive knob. He spent most of the year making sure that Charlie had the worst time imaginable at Truham. If he could avoid being paired with him, then at least he’d survive another day without intense bullying.
But, Charlie’s wishes never panned out.
Coach Singh read out the groups of five and of course, he was in the last group with the one person he hated more than anyone. “And finally, group four will be Charlie Spring, Harry Greene, Lee Jones, Sai Verma and Freddie Phillips.”
The announcement of teams was met with a mixture of groans and snickers. The laughter mostly came from Harry.
“Of course we get the poofter on our team,” he said to one of his lackeys. Charlie tried his best to ignore his idiocy and kept his focus on the drill his teacher was teaching them. “I bet he loves PE lessons. Getting to see all these half-naked men at the end of it. It’s fucking disgusting.”
Some of the boys around him started to laugh, but Charlie zoned him out. He only had about 30 minutes of the lesson left and that meant he was 30 minutes closer to being able to go home and get away from it all for two days.
Charlie kept his head down, passing the ball to Lee or to Sai and keeping well away from Harry. It wasn’t until the very last drill of the lesson that it was no longer impossible to avoid him. Coach Singh had paired the boys off for a warm-down stretch, getting them to lean against each other for balance whilst they stretched out their muscles.
“Yeah, no offence, Miss, but I’m not doing that,” Harry stated.
Singh crossed her arms over her chest. “And why not?”
Harry scowled at Charlie. “Because I don’t want to catch what he has. And I don’t want him falling in love with me ‘cos he got to touch me.”
Charlie scoffed. He’d heard it all before but it still stung like hell. “You’d be so lucky. As if I’d ever want to date you. You’re an asshole, Harry and nothing will change that.”
“Er, Charlie. That language is not acceptable.”
“Yeah, well at least I’m not a faggot,” Harry spat, squaring up to Charlie. That was all Charlie needed to hear. He lunged at Harry, raising his fist but before he could make a connection he was being pulled back by another year 11 and Harry was being ushered away by Coach Singh.
“Right, everyone to the locker rooms. That’s including you,” she shouted, pointing at Harry. “See me after school. Charlie, my office. Now.”
He watched through watery eyes as she marched off the field with the rest of the class following sheepishly behind her. The year 11 boy that pulled him away lingered with him at the back of the group.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice was soft and gentle. Charlie had seen him hanging around with Harry before school and at lunchtime, so Charlie was a little confused at why he was here. Harry’s mates weren’t ones for sincerity nor showing kindness, but this one was showing both.
Charlie was always on edge when he heard the voices of Harry’s crew, wondering what sick joke they’d play on him next or what shitty slur they’d throw his way, but this boy's voice was different. Calm. Soothing. Friendly. He hadn’t heard the boy speak much before, except for informing Coach Singh of his presence.
So why was he speaking to him now?
“What?” Charlie asked.
“I, um… Are you okay? Harry can be a dick sometimes bu-”
“I’m fine, please just… leave me alone,” he muttered, interrupting the older boy and jogging away from him. He didn’t want to let his guard down in front of Harry’s mates so he ran briskly into the building and towards the teachers office. The door was open but he knocked against it softly, grabbing the attention of his teacher, who was writing something down in her diary.
Coach Singh swivelled her chair round to face him and beckoned him in. “Shut the door, Charlie.” He took one step toward the chair at her desk and lowered himself into it. He avoided her gaze, knowing full well that he was in a lot of trouble.
“I’m so sorry, Coach.”
She shifted forward in her chair to get closer to Charlie. “It’s fine. I pulled you in here now so it would give you some time to go in once the rest of the boys got changed. I will have to give you a detention for the language but I’ll make it 15 minutes at lunch on Monday.”
She made a note in her diary, then filled out a detention slip and handed it to Charlie. “Are you okay?”
Charlie just nodded. Truthfully, he had heard much worse. He had seen much worse written on the back of one of the boy’s cubicles. Harry calling him one slur was nothing compared to some of the things he had been put through on account of Harry.
“I’ll be speaking to Harry too, after school. I’ll also have to speak to the headmaster about this. Is there anything else you want me to know so I can pass it on to him?” she asked. Her voice was kind, just like the boy who pried him away from Harry. Maybe he was trying to be genuine and show him some compassion. Charlie shook his head and folded the detention slip.
“Can I go now? I don’t want to be late for afternoon registration,” he muttered. Coach Singh nodded.
“Charlie,” she started, as he stood up from the chair. “If anything like that happens again, please let me know straight away.”
Charlie didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to respond. Not once in the 14 months since he’s been outed had any teacher shown him any type of sympathy.
He swung open the door and walked down the corridor towards the boy’s changing room. Thankfully, he noticed as he walked in and over to his peg, the room was empty except for him.
★
Charlie made it home in record time. He didn’t stick around with Tao and Isaac to see Elle after registration but, instead, headed straight for the bus home. Surprisingly, he was the first of the Spring siblings home. Oliver was always the last as he got picked up by his parents, but Tori and Charlie normally made it home around the same time.
He shouldered off his blazer and shirt, swapping it for a baggy, oversized t-shirt and a hoodie, then removed his school trousers, changing into an old pair of joggers he’d found lying on the floor. He bounced down the stairs and threw his uniform into the washing machine. He left the door of the machine open for when Tori and Olly got back but filled the trays with fabric softener and an Ariel pod to help his mum out a bit. He gently closed the door to the laundry room behind him and padded back up to his room.
His mind raced from the eventful day he’d just been through. It was going okay until his PE lesson and his encounter with resident dicknozzle, Harry Greene. He wanted an excuse to get out of dinner with his family anyway, but this was just the cherry on the cake. He curled himself into a small ball on his bed, dragging the duvet over him like a shield. Sanctuary from the awful day he’d had and the inevitable backlash he would get from his parents for not joining them later.
Deep in thought, he never even heard Tori come through the front door. She appeared in his doorway, already changed out of her Higgs uniform and into a black hoodie and jeans combo. It was her staple fashion choice.
“Bad day?” she asked, jolting Charlie from his spot. The duvet around him became a messy heap on the floor.
“Tori, I’m begging you. Please stop doing that,” he said, holding his hand up to his heart. Tori stalked into his room and picked up the duvet from the floor, throwing it back onto the bed. She nestled herself at the end of his bed as Charlie sat up, crossed his legs and fiddled with his hands in his lap. “It was okay until fourth, then it went to shit.”
Tori looked at him sympathetically, her eyes unmoving from his face. “Wanna talk about it?”
Charlie hesitated and then nodded. He explained the Harry situation in depth, how one of Harry’s mates tried to help him and how kind he was but Charlie was sceptical about it, and the meeting with Coach Singh after the lesson. “Fridays are particularly hard for me anyway. So to have dinner with mum and dad later on top of all that, it’s just…”
“Overwhelming,” she replied, finishing his sentence.
“Yeah, do you think they’ll let me skip?” he asked, looking her in the eyes. Tori’s stoic demeanour was normally unreadable, but something glistened in her eye as he asked her.
“I doubt it, but I’ll sort them out. Just promise me you’re okay?”
Charlie smiled a small smile at her. “I’m okay, it’s just been… a lot.”
Tori reached over to Charlie and rubbed his arm affectionately. A gentle touch to remind him that she was there for him. She rose from her spot and headed toward the hallway before stopping short at the door. She turned back to her brother and said, “I love you, Charlie. If anyone ever harasses you again, you let me know, okay?”
Charlie fixed his duvet and snuggled back down into it. “I will, thanks Tori.”
She smiled and closed the door behind her, leaving Charlie alone in his room again. He reached across the table and grabbed his phone, putting it on charge. He settled back down under the duvet and closed his eyes for a second, willing this day to just be over.
A noise outside woke Charlie from his peaceful nap. He rolled onto his back and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as they fell upon the clock on his bedside table that read 19:04. He let out a groan and felt around the bedside table for his phone.
Sat atop it was a note.
Charles,
Victoria told us you weren't feeling well and insisted we leave you be. Your father and I are not impressed that you didn’t tell us yourself.
We have gone out for dinner and will be back at 8:30 pm. The least you could do is fill the dishwasher, put on a wash and take out the rubbish.
We will talk in the morning.
Mum
X
Charlie still had a bit of time before his parents would be home. He unlocked his phone and scrolled aimlessly through his social media. Tao had sent him a load of memes he didn't understand but sent a thumbs up emoji regardless, and Isaac had sent him a book recommendation that he would add to his list of things to read but never get round to buying.
Tori had also texted him saying that she’d spoken to their parents. They weren’t happy but they agreed to leave him behind. He replied with a ‘thank you x’ and then closed his phone. He rose from his bed, picked up a few stray socks and some t-shirts from his washing bin and carried them down to the washing machine, adding them to the pile of his, Tori’s and Olly’s uniforms. He pushed a few buttons and the machine whirred into action.
He took out the bin bag from the bin and tied a knot at the top. He’d learnt the hard way when he hadn’t tied it and had left it outside their bin shed when a massive storm blew the entire contents of the bag across the street. Jane made him collect every last piece of rubbish (including Oliver’s three-day-old banana skin) and deposit it neatly inside the bin shed.
He slid on an old pair of converse and carried the black bin bag out to the front of their drive. He unlocked the gate and threw the bag in the bin.
As he went to push the bin back in, a loud bang behind him disrupted him from the task. He turned around to see what it was when a man dressed in all black skulked up to him and grabbed him, tightening a hand over Charlie’s mouth.
Blind panic rushed through Charlie’s body as he reached up at the hand to try and remove it. The man was extremely strong. He carried Charlie towards a white van and threw him down onto the dirty floor. Another man shut the door behind them and pinned Charlie’s legs down whilst the other tied Charlie’s hands behind his back with cable ties.
Charlie screamed, fear projecting from his voice. “Help! Please! HELP!”
“Shut the fuck up, you little cunt. Or I’ll make sure your girly screams are the last thing that comes from you!” a raspy voice whispered through gritted teeth from behind him.
He tried wriggling and kicking at the unknown men but before he knew it, a roll of tape was produced and one of the men ripped off a piece. The engine of the van roared into action and the sudden movement jerked the two men as it quickly took off.
“Please, I-I’ll do anything just please l-let me go,” the pleas were muffled into the floor as his cheek pressed harshly against it.
The two men that crowded him laughed maniacally. “We’ll let you go, once your dad starts to realise who he’s messing with. Until then, you’re staying with us,” one of them said as he roughly pulled Charlie into a sitting position, the other wrapping the piece of tape over Charlie’s mouth.
Charlie’s stomach churned at their words. What had his dad done that would lead to someone kidnapping him? Charlie thought back to his kind and honest dad, who was just an accountant for a low-key law firm in Kent. Who put up with his wife’s nagging and constant moaning about everything and simply accepted it. Who was sitting at a table with his family for a meal, not knowing his oldest son was being taken from them.
It was that thought that opened up the floodgates. Charlie’s eyes began to stream, tears rolling down his cheek and over the black tape that covered his mouth, dripping off his chin and onto his joggers. The bald man sat opposite Charlie saw the drops of tears and let out an audible belly laugh.
“Oi, mate. Look at him,” he gestured for the man on Charlie’s left to turn his attention to the younger boy. “He’s proper crying, like a baby. Scared that daddy won’t be able to save you?” The man opposite sat forward from the wooden make-shift seat, leaning his face inches away from Charlie’s. He turned his face away but the man gripped Charlie’s jaw tightly in his hand and turned it back to face him.
“You’ll look at me when I speak to you, do you understand?” The man spat, his words were filled with so much venom and anger, even he made Jane Spring sound like a saint. Charlie nodded slightly against the hand at his jaw, a whimper emitting from behind the tape.
That clearly wasn’t enough.
The man slammed Charlie’s head against the wall of the van and clenched his hand tighter around Charlie’s face. “I said, do you understand ?”
His pupils were massive. Dark and bug-eyed, his eyes almost protruded from the sockets. An angry vein popped on his forehead forming a thin line between his eyebrow and his hairline. Charlie nodded vigorously, trying to scream his understanding but all that came out was a muffled yowl. He squirmed under the touch of the burly man, which earned him another slam against the wall.
The man dropped Charlie’s jaw and retreated back to his spot. Charlie let his head lull back against the wall as even more tears threatened to paint his face. His breathing became erratic, the fear of not knowing what was happening or why he had been taken overwhelmed his body. He let out a muffled scream, this time one of panic, and the tears started flowing freely. He didn’t care that two random men found it hilarious and that they were laughing at his expense, he just wanted to know what was going on. Why had he been taken? When would he get to leave?
Charlie didn’t know how long the journey was but it felt like an age in his anxious and disoriented state. As the van pulled to a stop, the man next to him (whose name Charlie had decided was Eagle, due to a large Eagle tattoo on his neck) moved to grab something from his pocket. He chucked a long strip of cloth at his accomplice (Baldy, for obvious reasons), who straightened it out over his knee. Charlie could sense what was about to happen, so started to back away as much as he could in the limited space he had.
Eagle caught Charlie moving in his peripheral, so grabbed him by his curls and pushed him down in front of him so he was kneeling on the van floor between the two men. Baldy wrapped the cloth around both hands and pulled it taut in front of Charlie, who flinched at the action.
“This is for our protection,” hissed Baldy, wrapping the cloth around Charlie’s eyes and tying a tight knot at the back of his head. Some of his curls were caught in the knot, but he had a lot more pressing things to worry about.
Unable to see, touch or speak, the sliding door of the van was pulled open and a strong pair of hands yanked Charlie out onto his feet. He felt the tip of something sharp dig into his throat as he found his balance, breaking a small part of the skin where it sat. Though it may be small, Charlie could feel the trickle of blood starting to pour from it.
“Don’t fuck around. You walk where we make you walk. Any funny business then this knife will do a lot more damage than that. Got it?”
Charlie wanted to nod but the knife at his throat made him think otherwise. He let out a muffled noise he hoped would come off as an agreement. He wasn’t sure what funny business he was potentially going to do. His hands were tied behind his back, he couldn’t see and he had no idea where he was; doing anything but what they said was a silly move in anyone’s books but especially Charlie’s.
The two men were joined by what sounded like another man, judging by the amount of voices and footsteps he could hear. Charlie took note of where he was being guided - through a door (5 steps from the van), straight on (23 steps), round a corner to the right (2 steps), down an endless corridor (39 steps), up a flight of stairs (11 steps), round another corner to the right (7 steps) until he was forced to wait somewhere, the knife at his throat was back, digging forcefully against his skin.
He started counting his steps in case he needed an escape plan. This wasn’t something he did often, but he found that he was doing it subconsciously and it was actually helping him control the impending panic attack he could feel brewing from within.
A door unlocked ahead of him and he was violently pushed into a room. The door slammed behind him but he could sense that the three men remained present in the room with him. Charlie felt like a deer in headlights, except this deer was even more vulnerable. One of the men walked up behind Charlie and jerked his head back by his hair.
“You’re going to pay for what your father did, and then, maybe, he’ll get the hint,” he snarled in his ear. Without warning, one of the men punched Charlie strongly in the stomach. He couldn’t work out who, but whoever it was had a very strong punch. As the fist collided with him, his knees gave way and he fell to the floor, the hand still grasped tightly in his short, brown curls. He tried to cough behind the tape but failed. Instead, it came out as a snort through his nose.
A foot was next to connect with his stomach, this time knocking Charlie off balance completely and sending him straight to the floor. He tried to curl up on himself, now the hand in his hair was gone, but the pain brewing in his stomach was stronger than ever. Charlie’s eyes started to water again, but the cloth around his eyes soaked up most of the tears before they could even begin to roll down his face.
Another foot and another foot and another foot pelted Charlie’s skin. Those were definitely going to leave a mark. Or cause some internal problems. Maybe one of them was secretly a doctor and they’d help tend his injuries. Wishful thinking, Charlie.
“Leave him now, boys,” came Baldy’s voice. “We don’t want to break him before the boss gets here.” A chorus of mumbling sounded round the room. Charlie could sense the men starting to back off.
All except one.
The firm grip was back in his hair, pulling him half off the floor. “We’ll be back for you. Don’t get too comfortable, the boss will want to see you when he arrives.” And with that, he was thrown abruptly onto the floor. Heavy footsteps became quiet as they left the room and shut the door.
Charlie lay in silence for a while, making sure they were really gone. After he was certain he was alone, he cried out the most heartbreaking pained sound. His eyes were dry but that didn’t stop the fear and despair in his screams. His head was pounding from the amount of liquid that had escaped through his eyes and the intense hair-grabbing the men had done to him. He tried to sit up but his head was spinning, so much so that he immediately fell back down again.
Making another attempt was futile, Charlie knew that. So he just lay there, in the same position, wondering how he’d got himself here. Had he just gone to his family dinner, he would still be hurting but in a less physical sense. He would be sat between Tori and Olly as they informed their parents of their days at school. He loved hearing about Olly’s day; it was completely different to his. Where Charlie would have double maths, Olly would be making paper mache masks. Oh, to be that age again, where no one cared who you were or what you became.
Olly was so carefree, an ’over-excitable ball of energy’ Tori would say. He was two worlds apart from him and his sister. He thought of Tori, who probably had to fight his mother to let him stay home; look where that got him. Kidnapped, beaten and bound in a random room in the middle of god knows where. He didn’t even know if he was still in Kent. The drive didn’t seem long but neither was the drive to any of the surrounding cities. He could literally be anywhere in the world and no one would know where that is.
He was suddenly grateful for chucking on some normal clothes and his shoes before he took out the bins. If he hadn’t, he’d be left to rot in this room in nothing but his pyjamas, and that could have been disastrous, this close to winter. He notes that it’s already cold, what’s it going to be like in a week? Two weeks? Who knows how long he’ll be here for.
God, he hopes not too long.
But how would anyone know where to look? There will be no note, no sign of a struggle, nothing to suggest that Charlie was taken. The front door is wide open but there will be nothing out of place in the house. Would his parent’s know where to start looking? Baldy had mentioned his dad, so maybe Julio knew who had taken him.
Charlie then started to ponder who was behind all this. Perhaps it was a client that he’d turned the wrong way and a small threat had grown into a full blown kidnapping.
But his dad wasn’t like that, was he?
His brain continued to muse over anything and everything to occupy his thoughts, just to stop him from crying again. He spent what felt like hours trying to come up with a solution to this mess. He thought about his best friends who were in their homes with their families, about his future and what that could hold. But nothing would calm the nerves that rattled in his belly.
The unlocking of the door tore him away from his thoughts. He brought his knees up to shield his chest from any further harm they wanted to deal him. Not that it worked – two men grabbed him by his hoodie and sat him down firmly in a chair. He didn’t know if that chair was already in the room with him but here he was, being flung into it.
The blindfold was ripped from his face, his eyes took a while to adjust to the warm light from the bulb above him. His hands were released but only for a few seconds, whilst Eagle taped them to their own respective arm of the chair. Charlie’s eyes darted around the room, taking in his surroundings.
The room was relatively small but empty, bar the chair he was sitting on and a ratty, old mattress in the far corner. There was a toilet in the opposite corner that looked completely out of place for the type of room this had the potential to be. It looked like an abandoned office or an incomplete build, but Charlie’s mind was far from working out the specifics.
In front of him, Baldy stood leaning against the wall, digging the dirt out of his nails with his knife. The knife in question was huge. Bigger than a standard knife but smaller than a kitchen knife. If that was the blade that was held at Charlie’s throat earlier, then he counted himself lucky he got away with a little snick.
Another man entered the room from behind the sealed door and whispered something into Baldy’s ear. He nodded and the other man left the room. Baldy pushed himself off the wall with his foot and walked over to Charlie, bending down so he was eye level.
“I’ve just got word that the boss has arrived. He's looking forward to seeing you,” his gravelly voice informed the room. Charlie’s eyes focused to the left of Baldy, which he didn’t take too kindly. The blade was back at his throat, pressing aggressively into his skin. “What did I say about looking at me when I’m talking to you?”
Charlie nodded and blinked. His scared, blue eyes darted back to the angry-looking grey eyes before him. Behind Baldy, the door swung open and two men burst in, standing either side of the open doorway. Baldy, Eagle and the other man stood at attention away from Charlie. A tall man with dark blonde hair came through the door next. This was obviously ‘The Boss’, Charlie thought, simply by the way the others stood as he walked in.
The boss was wearing an all-black suit with a matching tie, his hands were covered in tattoos much like Baldy’s, and his face fell into a confused yet angry look.
“Who the fuck is this?” The Boss asked, pointing at Charlie.
All five of his men looked at Charlie and then amongst themselves. Eagle stood forward, pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket. “It’s the boy, the boy you asked us to retrieve.”
The Boss’ face grew redder by the second. If this was a cartoon, steam would be blowing from his ears. He snatched the paper from Eagle’s hands and glared down at it. He walked over to Eagle and grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, pinning him against the wall. “You fucking moron, this isn’t the boy!”
Eagle looked mortified. “B-but, he’s the one circled. He’s the one you circled.”
The Boss pinned him harder against the wall. “I circled the blonde one, not this curly haired twat. Fucking fix this and fix it fast, otherwise it won’t be you I come for. It’ll be your family. Got it?”
Eagle nodded and The Boss released him from his grip. Eagle smoothed out his clothes, avoiding staring at the scary-looking man in front of him. The boss turned and walked toward Charlie, who tried to edge away.
“You know this boy?” he asked, showing Charlie the picture. Charlie shook his head no as his breathing quickened. “Well get to know him, he’ll be your new roommate very soon.”
He stood up and placed the photo on Charlie’s lap so he could study it. The boss and his two men left the room and was shortly followed by Eagle. Baldy stayed behind, cutting the tape from Charlie’s wrists and binding them again tightly in front of him with a new cable tie. He patted Charlie’s cheek with force before turning around and leaving the room. The lock of the door turned shutting him away from the outside world once again.
Charlie looked down at the photo in his lap. It was taken during one of his PE lessons because he was in his full gym kit, standing with his hands on his hips, listening to Coach Singh. There was a big, red circle drawn around him in marker, except he wasn’t the only student in the circle.
The other student was the boy who helped him earlier when Harry was being a dick. Who asked if he was okay and who showed him kindness that Charlie then walked away from.
The other boy circled was none other than Nick Nelson.