Chapter Text
He knew it. Of course he knew it. He FUCKING knew it. It was going to be a disaster. No, let’s rephrase that: a MASSIVE disaster. It couldn’t be different, not in this situation. So, when the shooting started, he wasn’t even surprised, and he was even surprised when he saw the blood. He felt devastated by not being surprised and suddenly regret and remorse hit him.
Last night, he was so fucked up that he barely thought of how everything could go wrong. But then in the morning, a bad feeling arose in his mind and in his body. Call it instinct, experiences or just "my friend is such a damaged person with big trauma that of course he's gonna do something stupid". This feeling didn’t leave him for hours to the point that he didn’t care about the hookers dancing in front of him. He completely forgot about cocaine and alcohol. Suddenly, he was all sober again.
Sober and scared. Just a quick phone call confirmed his fear, and he knew he had to get away from all this shit. He kissed the girls, wishing them the best and ran to the airport to take a damn plane.
And now, he is here at this hotel and immediately regrets sleeping during the flight instead of planning the whole thing. He should have checked a map, anything. He should have taken his phone and called but he didn’t. Something deep inside him told him it would be useless. Nobody would answer his phone call.
There’s not a lot of time. The countdown to disaster has already started and he has no idea where he is heading, he is walking like a newborn walking for the first time. He is careful, looking at the whole scenery around him. The sun. The water. The tree. The rich people ignoring the drama that was about to start and those damn monkey screaming. Gosh he hates monkeys.
And then, the noise.
Ooooh he knows that noise. He heard it way too many times in his life and for some reason, he already knows who is to blame. He knows who pulls the trigger first. Therefore, he does what he does best, he listens and follows. Listens and follows.
As he finally turns the corner, he stops breathing at the scene in front of him. A lonely man pointing a gun in front of him with nobody standing there. Frank needs a few seconds to remember that other noise he heard. Splashing water. At this moment, he sees them. He doesn't need to go closer as he already recognizes who's there.
Still, he moves closer. A tiny gleam of hope in his heart telling him to walk and walk and walk just in case. But then, the guy on the other side moves, points his gun towards him not ready to listen to anything he could say. He has no choice. The man hands shake, he notices. He takes his own gun and shots that man right in the hand and in his knee not letting him the time to understand what’s happening. Then he rushes towards him, take his gun, throws it in the water while the man scream.
The water.
His friend. Rick. And another body.
Maybe it’s not too late.