“So you came home without him? Are you stupid?” I felt kind of angry at BamBam. I understand he would have been drunk, but still – you don’t just leave your friend and come home white you’re both plastered. I don’t understand how you can just lose someone.

BamBam gave me a sad look. “I’m sorry Hyung, it was my first time drinking. You know that. I don’t even know how I got home!”

“If only I could have gone with you.” I thought out loud. “Listen, get washed and dressed quickly, we’re going over to see JaeBum and YoungJae.” I wanted to find out whether they’d heard anything from him.

“Alright, Hyung.” He said, grabbing a towel off the floor and heading into the bathroom. checking my phone, I waited for him to get ready. I still hadn’t heard from Jackson. How many more friends am I gonna lose track of today?

Once he was dressed we walked across the quad to the building opposite. They hadn’t received any text messages from Junior either.

“That’s really not like Junior at all!” Said YoungJae nervously. He was a first year studying music. He put down the phone from calling Junior – he hadn’t picked up.

JaeBum, a third year studying Film studies, put his metaphorical serious mask on: “Okay guys, a friend is missing. We need to find him. BamBam, what is the last thing you remember from last night?”

BamBam struggled to remember. “Uh…The pub?” he said, scratching his head. “I think…”

This was hopeless. We couldn’t rely on a fuzzy memory. How were we going to find Junior?

“Which pub was it? We should go there and ask around.” YoungJae said getting up. BamBam followed suit.

“It was McCawley’s! Let’s go.” he said, grabbing YoungJae’s hand and dragging him out the door with determination in his eyes.

I looked at JaeBum as he grabbed his coat off the back of his desk chair. “We’d better bloody find him,” he said.

I nodded and followed him out the door.

We walked along the road towards the University, but instead of turning right into the gates, we continued on for a little ways and then turned left onto a close where this pub ‘McCawley’s’ stood. It was a red-bricked building with a swinging sign and two blue doors.

There was a young woman behind the bar. Her hair was up in a bun and her face was covered with makeup.

“Can I see some ID boys?” she asked, expecting us to buy drinks.

BamBam was the one to pipe up first. “Actually, Tiffany,” He said giving a shy wave, “I’m here to ask if you remember where I went after coming here last night?” It struck me odd that BamBam and this bar tender where on a first-name basis. How many times since turning 18 had this boy come to McCawley’s?

“Oh, hello Little Bam. I think you were saying something about going to a night club in town,” She said, crossing her arms and leaning backwards on the bar. That really didn’t give us any more information than we already had. We’d have to go looking for him. I hope to the God’s he’s not passed out on a bench with everything stolen.