Craig's POV
It had been a few days since I tried calling him, and still nothing from Conor. No call back. No text. Not even a 'hey, I'm alive.' At first, I figured he just needed space, maybe some time to cool off or whatever. But now? Now I was starting to spiral.
I finally gave in and called Lincoln, one of his closest friends. If anyone had eyes on Conor, it would be him.
He picked up on the third ring, voice way too hyped. "Yo, Craig! What's up?"
The noise behind him was wild. Music, shouting, people laughing. The whole chaotic vibe of a party in full swing.
"You know where Conor is?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. "I've been trying to reach him. His phone's been off."
"Oh yeah, he's here with me. We're in New York at this insane party. You coming or what?"
Like New York was five minutes away. Like none of this was a big deal.
"I'm good," I said, jaw tightening. "Thanks for letting me know."
"Cool. Talk later." He hung up without waiting for a reply.
