38

I'm exhausted from a day full of running around, and all I can think about is getting home to unwind. Dmitri and I spent way more time than normal going over band stuff today. We used up hours trying to gauge the backlash from Theo's on-air attack by Bradley.

At first glance, there doesn't seem to be any significant harm caused by it. Searches for the band name have skyrocketed, and we're trending on all the major social media sites. While there are an overwhelming number of posts supporting Theo, there are also plenty questioning if this is simply a clever marketing ploy.

Was his anguish not clear to them?

Are people really that emotionally blind?

We are confident in our ability to bounce back, so we developed a plan, bringing Monica in a call to gather her insights. My brain is spinning, and a headache is creeping in as I pull in to my driveway and walk up the stairs to the front door.

The resistance of the knob in my hand makes me smile, glad that Theo is finally listening to me about locking the door when I'm gone. I rap on the wood, ready to have my ray of sunshine in my arms.

Seconds pass, and nothing but silence greets me from the other side.

Frowning, I slide my key into the knob and swing the door open. "Theo?" I call, already sensing the emptiness of the house. It's still, no movements or sound. Only the hum of the heat blowing through the vents.

My heart races as I rush through the living area and peek into the bedrooms. I even push into the bathrooms, but I know there's no one here.

Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I thunder down the stairs to the garage and find his car is gone, and I curse under my breath as I run back upstairs.

Twice I try to call him, and twice I'm sent to voicemail.

Sam answers his phone on the second ring, a smile in his voice. "If this is about something else inflatable…"

"Theo is missing," I interrupt, and his tone changes in an instant.

"What do you mean, missing?"

"I had to work at the studio today, and I just got home and he's not here."

"Have you tried to call him?"

My voice rises as my panic sets in. "Are you kidding me right now, Sam? Of course I fucking tried to call him! It's getting pushed straight to voicemail."

"Did you guys get into a fight or anything?"

"Theo and I never fight," I snap, my frustration growing as I continue to search my townhouse for answers.

"Ever?"

"Never!" I shout, and he pushes out a long sigh. I force myself to calm down, lowering my voice. "Sam, we don't argue. We didn't fight, and he never told me he was going anywhere. He always lets me know when he goes somewhere."

We brainstorm for a few minutes, trying and failing to come up with any ideas that aren't complete trash. Sam tries to call him with no answer, and then three-ways Devon onto the call, who also tries to get through.

On my fiftieth pass through the house, something on the kitchen counter catches my eye. "Wait," I mutter, grabbing the piece of paper that looks like the wind blew it aside when the door opened. My eyes dart over the words, gut sinking as my brain absorbs them.

I read the note to his brothers, who curse simultaneously. "What do you think he's doing?" Sam asks, voice strangely quiet.

"Hopefully not making a huge mistake," I whisper, my insides splintering as I realize there's absolutely nothing I can do.