Luhan jolted awake with a feeling that something was terribly, horribly wrong. He wiped the sweat off his neck, pulled the covers off his frame and swung his feet off the bed, the sound of wool against wool clinging irritably on his ears. He checked his phone.

51 missed calls, all from a number he didn’t recognize.

He checked his voicemail to be met with nothing.

He called Sehun’s roommate, his fingertips flying off the keypad as it had a million times before, working with precision from heavy practice and experience.

A groggy voice answered the other line.

            “Luhan.”

            “Did something happen?” Luhan asked without missing a beat.

            “It’s Sehun.”

            “Where is he?”

            “I don’t know. He’s been missing for-“

            “He’s been missing? Why hasn’t anyone told me?!” Luhan said, tears of worry and frustration making their way to his inflamed tear ducts.

            “You told us to, didn’t you?”

            Luhan’s tongue got caught in his throat and for the remainder of the call he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

            “He’s been missing for two nights. They have no idea where he ran off to.”