They hadn't exactly been subtle about leaving the house earlier that day.

Leah had pressed her ear against the door as soon as someone came thundering down the stairs. He had whistled, like he was intentionally getting someone's attention, but his loud voice was soon muffled by walls.

Movement followed not long after, a successful round up by the sounds of it, with one person hurrying past, then more lagging further behind.

"-be fine. Just...go with the flow."

"I know, I know."

"They just need to be back on good terms-"

Three recognisable voices fading in and out of Leah's earshot, and a snippet of their conversation in decipherable enough range.

The 'they' intrigued her because it had to refer to the final two of the group, and if her name assumptions were correct, then that was Joe and Tyler. The same two which she now believed were the ones arguing while she had slipped in and out of consciousness all those hours ago.

Leah was also more and more convinced that Tyler was the final man, and she suspected it was him in charge and had his friends pick up the pieces for him, those pieces being her since she had yet to lay her eyes on him.

A cheap move, a weak move, but it certainly tested loyalty and instated hierarchy within the group. They were values that appeared to be reaching their breaking point though, with Joe expressing his opposition, and they might well have been before she had ended up in this mess.

At some point, because her theories were getting her nowhere, Leah figured it was as good a chance as anything to see if she could pick the lock since she was alone.

This place was a considerable upgrade, as well as continuous behavioural changes, conversation, and hints of concern for her well-being, but she couldn't lose herself to the belief that this was just a wicked mistake and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, wherever and whenever that was.

Carrying an untreated head injury with shitty concussion, Leah still had no idea how, or what had happened to obtain it, or why she had ended up in her situation. It was all growing increasingly frustrating to live with, which was why she would try anything to trigger her faulty memory.

Searching the units was first. Then, every groove, every nook and cranny in every corner with an aim to find something that could be of use, but all she ended up getting was a tickly nose from disturbing dust, and fighting anger with herself for not having a hairband on her wrist, let alone bobby pins in her hair that she could use to pick the lock.

In a time of desperation though, a cloud of determination settled.

Leah stormed over and rattled with the handle, used her fingernails, and shoved her shoulder repeatedly into the door. When that didn't work, she slammed her palms until they were stinging like needles.

It was no use. It wouldn't budge.

She gave up, sore, back sliding down the door, and caught her breath that had quickened from her frustrated efforts.

Leah would try again, keep trying until she found success, but there was something in the back of her mind that told her to simply wait, and that maybe she really was here for a reason.

<>

"-and then Steven fuckin' dove head first into the ditch, y'know waist deep with nettles, and he had nothing but his underwear on!"

Matty let out a howl of laughter, slapping a hand on his knee. Joe was positioned on the other end of the curved seating booth, smiling away after retelling the teenage memory, and the trio was finished with a comfortably sprawled Steven who gave a shake of his head.

"I can confirm that the packet of blow was worth every sting on my body, even if I never got the girl."

Matty recovered, taking a generous swig of his whisky and lifted chin approvingly towards Steven.

"You're one crazy fucker aren'tcha?"

Before another story could be launched, Brad had wandered over and stopped in his two friends' line of sight.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Mr Whitford!"

Joe was first, Steven second and expressing his surprise, but they both gave easy, friendly acknowledgements, and Matty swivelled around with his whisky glass in hand to drunkenly invest too.

With all of their attention, Brad jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I was just thinking, we should prob'ly be getting back? I dunno about you two, but I don't want to learn all the secrets in one day because what's the fun in that?"

It sounded convincing, regardless of the edge of nervous laughter by the end, but the lack of enthusiasm in the form of a collective silence, made Brad very uneasy.

"Your boy haz-a point." Matty was the one to indulge in a courteous response, his speech slurred, just like the action of tapping the glass against the side of his head where the remaining amber liquid sloshed dangerously. "'ees a smart guy."

Disappointed, Steven pulled out his wallet to fish out some cash to pay for his and Joe's enjoyment.

"Ay!" Matty waved him off, halting the gesture of pulling out notes with his bulky weight leaning onto the table. "Don' worry ab'aht it, matey. You'll be back tomorrow, eh?"

The wallet was flipped closed and pushed back into the safety of a pocket.

"Guess I can think of a couple more stories to share," Joe mused, getting to his feet.

"Yeah," Steven scoffed on his way up, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulder with a teasing intention. "In your wet dreams."

"Ta, boys!"

They were in considerably better spirits than when they had walked in, but following Brad outside ended up slowing to a stagger because Steven had his face buried in the side of Joe's floofy hair whenever he found something inappropriate to say.

Tripping over their own feet despite not being influenced too much by alcohol, and a lot of snickering like naughty school boys challenged a simple walking task.

It worked out in the end, and there was no further convincing to get the duo safely in the back of the van.

"Well, I think they're back together again," Brad mumbled, watching everything from the side mirror.

"I think that may have been the first time where I have turned down everything," Joey said, slumping in the middle seat.

Tom flicked the indicator stick to the right. "They do say there is more to life than drugs."

"What? Oh, jeez, remove that shitty smile."

Further snarky comments were muted, and they drove on for a couple more miles, watching the world of a country they had grown familiar with pass by their windows.

"What do you think they're doing back there?"

"Who? Steven and Joe? Oh, probably kissing, grinding, maybe even f-"

"Dude, no! Gross." Brad grimaced, regretting his choice of wording. "I mean thinking, Tom, like...what do we do now? What happens?"

Understanding a time and a place to carry on with humour, Tom tapped his fingers subtly against the steering wheel, not so keen to reply.

"How do they not care?" Joey instated a new dynamic, one of hurt and anger. "Why are we just driving back like this is normal!? You both saw how Steven was acting this morning, right? Surely, he can't have forgotten what he did? I'll admit I did with that relief of getting a nice place to hold out in, but I feel like shit now, and I swear I won't let it happen again until we've fixed this."

There were concerns shared by all three of them, something that would eat up minds if they weren't careful, but none of them were quite willing to step out of line and make a scene that could break their remaining loose strings.

"We've been through this," Brad said, referring to one of their earlier conversations. "We have to remember all of this from Steven's perspective."

"But he doesn't tell us anything! What he did at the house- all the bullshit that goes on with him and Joe!"

"He does a lot wrong, yeah, you're right." Tom calmed the aggravation, despite concentrating on driving. "I don't know the last thing he did right, but he has serious courage to keep going. He gets high to get his head around it all, as well as keeping up with Joe, and at the end of the day, it keeps the fight in him and keeps us going."

"But in the meantime, we make sure that she is okay," Brad followed on quickly, hoping to assert the assurance. "We're on your side, man. It's not just you that feels this way, and I think deep down...it's the same for them."

A gesture to the two in the back, Joey knew there was truth in it all. He'd always tried to side with Steven's corner, after all the things he'd done for him, and the same went for Joe. They'd been great friends to him, through thick and thin, and this may have been yet another bump in the road, but he couldn't let this sort of wrong go.

Drugs were not the answer to disguising a kidnapping. Drugs weren't the answer to anything, but they were all guilty of abusing that factor.

Brad rested his forearm on the gap next to the passenger window when a sudden thought occurred. He looked across towards the innocent driver, a curious frown pulling his brow together.

"Did you have some?"

The question, that was really an accusation, did not have Tom stumped with its vagueness.

"Only a couple of joints." He gave a classic, dismissive shrug, "I wasn't going to turn down the offer."

Brad tutted, exaggerating his shock. "Bastard..."

"They do say there's more to life than drugs," Joey mocked under his breath, blabbering with his hand.

It was, however, plenty loud enough for all three of them to hear.

<>

The final miles back to the farmhouse involved stopping off at McDonalds to order a shit tonne of food, and by the time they were back, the sun had set for the day.

The five of them clambered out with full stomachs, well, apart from Steven because he refused to eat in the van, and because he had taken too long deciding what to order, they were unable to sit down and eat in the golden arches.

So, it was understandable when his feet were on solid ground, he had his chops around a cheeseburger and his boyfriend, Joe, was glued to his side, occasionally stealing his fries.

Unfortunately, and more pressingly, it was just more evidence of a divide between the group, where three out of five could see it, and two were still enjoying their fun.

The oblivious duo were inside first, Brad on their tails to see them to their respective rooms, and Joey was next crunching his way across the gravel.

He was given the thumbs up, and he beckoned Tom over with a jerk of his head. Somehow, even the prospect of delivering food felt like a risky game to play.

"Hey what-"

"I can't talk now," Tom hushed quickly, a final takeaway bag in his hand.

He stood half in, half out the utility room and Leah was already there like she had been waiting for him. She took another step forward, etching a deeper frown as she assessed him over.

"But-"

"Not now."

Tom didn't like being so sharp, and to prolong whatever this meeting was, he chucked the crumpled bag onto the side and re-locked the door.

Joey was there when he regrettably turned having heard the whole thing, strong arms folded across his chest, and an equally sombre expression that reached his eyes.

They prayed that she wouldn't start kicking off, banging on the door, yelling to be let out, but they wouldn't blame her if she did. In fact, they expected it to happen. It would aggravate Steven. Piss off Joe. Someone would get hurt, more than they already were, but there wasn't a single sound.

When Brad descended to the bottom step, the three guys shared a look. It was a look that held the knowledge of tomorrow, because tomorrow, it would all change.

<>