Concussion!

Of course. I face palmed as I investigated my car, realizing that the open door was MY fault. Nothing was taken or messed with, thankfully. It's not like I have anything valuable anyways. Apparently, I didn't shut my door enough, and it spent all day open. So anyone could have gotten into my car, could've stolen everything. Hell, a skilled electrician could have hijacked it and it would have been all my fault. I climbed into my car and had no hope for a good afternoon. My door was open all day, the lights have been on all day, which, in turn would mean.

"Son of a bitch!" I slapped the steering wheel as I heard the engine sputter and hiss. Dead battery. D e a d. Dead as a doorknob, no life, dead like my will to live, dead like my parents. I paused as I pondered what I just thought to myself. Life was just one fucking hurdle after the other. It's not like I really have anyone I could call anyways, no one that would bother to come pick me up. I suppose I could camp out and beg Finn for a ride home tomorrow, but I somehow figured that he would be a total ass about it. Finn loves when people are in debt to him, he gets off on it. Fucking weirdo. I started to look up a number for a towing company when a knock on my window caused me to jump. The very last person I expected to be outside my car was Stellan. He gave a friendly smile and I begrudgingly rolled down my car window.

"Hello, Christopher, my friend. It seems as if you are in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you?" He asked cheerfully.

"Yeah. Uh, what brings you here?" I questioned.

"Nevermind that. I would be honored if you would accept a ride home, and I shall have one of my employees take your car in and get it fixed, free of charge," Stellan gestured to the limo behind him. I let out a low whistle and felt myself open my door. Free car maintenance, and a ride home? It's worth the risk of him possibly murdering me and never being heard from again. He clapped and led the way to his limo, opening up the door in the back for me. The first thing I noticed was that the interior was very pastel. Greens, blues, pinks, it looked like a candy he would sell from his store.

"Your keys," Stellan held out his hand. I handed them to him and he opened his window and handed them to one of his lackeys. The window closed and we took off down the road.

"So, how was the work day for you?" Stellan looked at me with a gigantic smile.

"Uhh, it was fine. How was yours?" I said awkwardly.

"It was fantastic! I have a new business deal to expand locations overseas to help increase my profits!" He exclaimed.

"That sounds...great," The windows were too tinted to see out of very well. He could have instructed his driver to take me anywhere and I would never know. Stellan's eyes never left mine, and his smile never faltered. My red alert levels were at an all time high. I felt like a tiny fish started in the face of a great white shark.

"Soooo, why were you at the station?" he never answered me the first time.

"I was actually looking for a journalist. I think it would be great news to share with a news article! Perhaps you could be interested in writing it? I would be willing to pay handsomely," Stellan handed me a small card with a phone number on.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm sure you could find a much better writer than me for such an important story," I put the card in my pocket.

"Nonsense! I support local businesses! Please, call me anytime for the interview and details. Or, call me for anything! I would love the chance to talk!" Stellan winked at me. This has officially been the most uncomfortable ten minutes of my life. How could someone smile for so fucking long? My face was hurting just thinking about it. We sat in silence for a minute, I was about to just open the door and jump out.

"Christopher," FUCK!

"Yes?" I looked at him. His smile was finally gone.

"I just want to express how sorry I am for your loss, your dearest Isabella," he said solemnly.

"She's not dead," I frowned at him. The police never said she died. They just said she was missing. She could still be alive. Why is everyone being such a fucking creep?

"Of course. My mistake," Stellan's smile slowly crept back onto his face. I bit my tongue to hold back the rush of emotions that I was feeling.

"I'm sure she was lovely," he commented.

"I really don't want to talk about this," I snapped. He let out a small giggle.

"I'm simply making conversation until you decide to hop out. We've been here for about seven minutes now," Stellan opened the door. I stepped out and noticed we had indeed been outside of my apartment building.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"You're such a precious man! Never hesitate to call me for a ride, or even to hang out!" Stellan smiled before shutting the door. The limo took off and I watched them go out of sight. If I even wanted to think about what just happened, alcohol must be consumed. I worked my way up to my place and went in, half expecting to find a dead body or some shit. I took out Stellan's number from my pocket and ripped it up. No way in hell was I ever going near him again. Why did he assume Isabella is dead? There's no proof about that. She could be alive, she has to. Unless, he knows something? I shook my head. That was ridiculous. He was just a candy maker with a botched face lift. I threw his number away and went to my fridge for my bottle of vodka. I chugged the bottle, taking in as much as I could. Sobriety seemed like a fucking joke in the moment. I wanted to forget about life, forget about Stellan, Isabella. I laid on the floor, curled around my bottle and felt myself slip into unconscious sobs.

I woke up on the floor, my head pounding and everything around me was soaked. I smelled the damage before I saw it. There was vomit and vodka all over me and the floor. I was sticky and it was a very unpleasant sensation. A ripping sound happened as I stood up, wobbling and looking to see the mess. I sighed and flipped it off, not in the mood to deal with it right now. I saw my clock said 3:00am and I groaned. A shower was at the top of my list right now. Thank god no one was here to see my pathetic ass covered in vodka and throw up, curled up on the floor like a little bitch. The warm water and soap removed the grime quite easily, and I felt exponentially better. I popped some pills for my headache and wandered to my computer. Mindless entertainment from the games I had on it was all I wanted in the moment. Hours passed before I was aware of the time I wasted away. I stretched and made my way to the mess that I have neglected to clean. The next thirty minutes were spent bleaching and cleaning the stains on my hardwood floor. My landlady was going to fucking neuter me when she saw the damages. I'd be surprised if she wouldn't kick me. She's been very polite with everything since Isabella disappeared, but I don't think vomit and vodka stains get that same courtesy. It seemed mostly clean, so I threw the cleaning products in my sink and went to my room. The past few days have been nothing less than strange. I hated things changing, I liked routine. I would go to work,come home, get drunk, wake up, repeat. But no, things have to go and get all wibbly wobbly on me. Fuck my life. I plopped on my bed and plugged in my phone, which surprisingly wasn't destroyed in my drunken fountain of unpleasantries. Sighing, I thought of how shitty my life has been. I mean, I never had received a break, parents dying, girlfriend missing, all I want is to take a breather, and lay on a beach somewhere with a beer in my hand. But no, I get the shitty end of a job and a dead end town. I deliberated for a second before walking to my kitchen to reach into my trash can. I found the parts of the little paper and brought them back to my room. There was a good chance that this would also be a disappointment. Nothing ever works out the way I wanted it to. But maybe I could make the money I need to get out of here. It couldn't hurt to try, I suppose. Look at my being an optimist! Putting the pieces together, I dialed the number on the paper, hoping for an answer.

"Ah, Christopher! I knew you would call!" Stellan yelled excitedly.

"Yeah yeah. Let's talk about this article you want written."