After

Nicky's P.O.V.

As soon as I woke up I knew something was very wrong.

I sprang out of bed and ran to Richey's room. I flung the door open. It was empty.

For a minute I just stared at the room, shaking, trying to process this information. I knew this would happen.

I ran back out into the hallway, shouting. "Richey's gone!" The others frantically ran out to me.

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Sean asked.

"Gone," I repeated. "He's not in his room. Even though it's still very early."

"He could've just got up earlier," James said calmly. "Go check downstairs."

I nodded, and sped off down the stairs. I checked the restaurant, the lobby, everywhere. But there was no trace of him. It was like he had disappeared into thin air.

I asked the receptionist if she had seen him. She replied saying, "Yeah he checked out about an hour or so ago."

Fear gripped my throat. But I tried to remain calm. "Ok, thanks," I said, running back upstairs to share my findings with James and Sean.

"Right," James said when I had finished telling them. "We'll go out and look for him."

"Ok."

The three of us went outside and began scanning the streets for our friend. We noticed that his car was gone, so he could be anywhere at this point. Maybe he went back to his apartment?

"Nicky," James said gently to me after about twenty minutes of searching. "We need to go to the airport now or we'll miss our flight to America."

"We can't go without him," I protested.

"We have to," James replied. "Don't worry. Someone will find him. He can't have gone that far."

I nodded. "I know." Then I hesitated. "James?"

"Yeah?"

"You know when I said I had a feeling something bad would happen? I think this is it."

James looked at me for a moment. "He'll be fine," he said eventually. "We'll go to America, act as normal. If he hasn't returned when we come back... then I don't know."

I agreed to this. So we headed back to the hotel room pick up our luggage and check out. When I opened the door to me room, I noticed a small box sitting on my bed. I went up to it and opened it to find a lot of pieces of paper. When I looked closer I saw that on them was Richey's familiar handwriting.

They're song lyrics, I thought, picking up a page and reading it. I held it to me chest as I felt tears rolling down my face. Thank you, Richey.

I grabbed my luggage and hauled it downstairs to where Sean and James were waiting in the reception. Then we walked to the airport together.

We went to the US together, did the tour there. But there was not a moment that went by that we didn't think of Richey. We were constantly waiting, waiting for someone to call us and tell us they had found him. But that call never came.

A week after he disappeared, someone found his car parked near a bridge. Its battery was dead, and there was no evidence that it had been lived in.

"What now?" James murmured to me after we got the news.

I didn't know what to say. It felt as though my throat was blocked. I could barely breath.

"I... don't know..." I managed to whisper. "We have to carry on without him. Its what he would've wanted. Why else would he leave me all these songs?" I gestured to the box of paper that had been on my bed.

James agreed. "You're right. I just hope our fans could forgive us."

The news of Richey's disappearance was out by now. I knew that it had shocked everyone.

"I think we should take a break," I decided. "Until next year maybe. We should take time off to... try and accept what has happened."

"Then what?" Sean asked.

"We'll make a new album. Use the songs we already have... Small Black Flowers, No Surface All Feeling..."

"Right, ok." James stood up. "It's what Richey would want."

At the mention of his name again, I felt the grief grip me again. I closed my eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. It was hard to believe that only a few weeks ago he had seemed fine. Like he was finally getting better. But now this happened.

"Where are you?" I whispered when the other two had left the room. "Richey... please. Come back to us."