Tim hadn't shown up at the university since Monday, and Ethan was growing more anxious by the hour. He had tried everything calling, texting, leaving voicemails, but nothing worked. Tim had completely vanished off the grid.
By Tuesday, Ethan's worry had turned into quiet panic. He sat in his room, staring at his phone before typing out another message: "How are you, Tim? You left so suddenly yesterday. I'm really worried about you. Call me as soon as you see this."
He stared at the screen, hoping to see the status change to 'read,' but the response never came. His gut told him something was deeply wrong; Tim was reckless, but he wouldn't disappear like this without a serious reason.
Wednesday arrived, and the silence from Tim's end became unbearable. Desperate, Ethan sent a final warning: "Tim, please answer me. If you don't, I'm calling the police."
Still, nothing. Not knowing what else to do, Ethan decided to head over to the shooting club. The shooting range was buzzing with activity as members prepared for tomorrow's big tryout meeting.
"Hey guys," Ethan said, breathing heavily as he approached the core members. "Have any of you heard from Tim?"
Logan looked up from cleaning his gear, shaking his head. "Hey, Ethan. No, nothing. He hasn't replied to any messages in the group chat either."
Willy, who was standing nearby checking the schedule, glanced over. "What's going on?"
"He's ignoring all my texts and calls," Ethan admitted, his voice tight. "I'm really worried about him."
Willy's expression darkened slightly. "I'll try to reach him."
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances as Willy pulled out his phone and dialed the number. It went straight to voicemail. The tension in the room grew thick.
"Let's just wait," Al suggested, trying to ease the mood. "It's the tryouts tomorrow. He'll definitely show up for that."
Ethan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright. If any of you hear anything, please let me know."
"You got it," Logan promised.
Ethan dragged himself to his next lecture, but he couldn't focus on a single word the professor said. By evening, he practically crawled back home, completely exhausted. He tossed his keys onto the table and grabbed his phone one last time. To his absolute relief, a message from Tim was finally waiting for him.
Tim:I'm sorry, Ethan. Really sorry. I don't feel well and I don't want to talk to anyone right now. But I'll definitely come to the university tomorrow. Can you get to the club early? Text me before the last participants finish.
Ethan let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and quickly typed back: "It's okay. I'll see you there."
The next day, Ethan who didn't even have any lectures scheduled went straight to the shooting club. The place was absolutely packed. Newcomers and older members crowded the hall, filling the air with nervous energy. But as the minutes ticked by, Tim was still nowhere to be seen.
Up front, Willy and Seb were busy explaining the safety rules to the participants, their voices projecting over the chatter.
Ethan anxiously checked his watch and texted Tim: "The last participants are getting ready. Where are you?"
The reply was instant: "Look to your right."
Ethan snapped his head to the right, scanning the crowd, and suddenly froze. Tim was standing near the wall, but he barely looked like himself. His dark hair was a messy tangle, his skin was deathly pale, and heavy dark circles shadowed his eyes. It was obvious he hadn't slept in days.
Ethan wanted to rush over and demand answers, but there was no time.
"Hey, Tim! You're up next!" Logan called out, waving him toward the shooting booth.
Tim caught Ethan's worried gaze and offered a weak shrug. "I look terrible, I know. But now's not the time."
Without giving Ethan a chance to speak, Tim strapped on his eye and ear protection and stepped forward into the booth. He raised the pistol, his posture instantly shifting into something rigid and hyper-focused.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Five shots echoed through the range. When the target rolled back, a collective gasp went through the room. Each bullet had landed perfectly in the dead center.
"Fifty points!" Logan shouted. "The highest score of the day!"
Cheers erupted in the hall. The club members immediately swarmed Tim, throwing arms around his shoulders and shouting congratulations. Everyone was thrilled except for Willy. He stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes narrowed.
Noticing the stare, Tim broke away from the crowd and walked straight up to the top-ranked shooter.
"Seen what I can do?" Tim asked, a cocky edge returning to his voice. "What do you think now?"
Willy didn't flinch. "You shoot well. But if it were up to me, you wouldn't be on this team."
Tim's smile faded. "Why?"
"Because I notice everything," Willy said coldly, stepping closer. "Your focus slipped on the third shot. Your hand shook. And considering you've already been skipping university classes, I highly doubt you'll commit to our grueling training schedule. I don't need unreliable people in my club."
Tim narrowed his eyes, matching Willy's icy demeanor. "I'm not here to compete with beginners, Willy. I'll tell you straight, I'm here for your spot."
A ghost of a smirk touched Willy's lips. "You want my place? Then you'd better work for it. But honestly? I don't think you've got it in you."
"Is that so?" Tim countered, leaning in. "Give me a few months, and I'll take your place." He flashed a quick, defiant wink and walked away to join the others.
The truth was, Willy wasn't wrong. Tim was completely falling apart inside. The past few days had been a brutal storm of severe depression, crippling panic attacks, and agonizing insomnia. He was running on pure adrenaline.
"Hey, shouldn't we celebrate your win tonight?" Logan asked, snapping Tim out of his thoughts.
"Sorry, I'm not really in the mood," Tim said quietly.
Al patted his back. "Is this because of what Willy said? Just ignore him, man. He's always like that."
Ethan stepped into his line of sight, his eyes full of concern. "Talk to me, Tim. I'll help you however I can."
"Yeah, you left so suddenly the other day," Logan added. "We were all genuinely worried about you."
Tim felt a pang of guilt. "I know. And I'm sorry. I just... I don't want to talk right now. I'm just completely exhausted."
Logan nodded understandingly. "If that's what you need."
"Call me if you need anything at all, okay?" Ethan murmured.
At that exact moment, Tim's phone vibrated violently in his palm. He glanced down at the screen, and the color drained from his face instantly.
Unknown Number:Still there? Your time is running out. Go back to your parents!
The sudden shift in his demeanor didn't escape the group.
"What happened?" Ethan asked, reaching out.
Tim quickly forced a bright, fake smile and shoved the phone into his pocket. "Nothing! Just a friend who's pissed that I've been ignoring him. Same old empty threats. I'll go call him back. Bye, guys. Oh, and Ethan, I won't be at uni tomorrow either. Don't worry, though I'm just visiting my parents."
Ethan frowned. "Fine. But you better answer my texts this time!"
"I'll try," Tim laughed weakly.
Ethan slapped his shoulder in mock anger. "Seriously, Tim!"
"Relax, relax," Tim chuckled, stepping backward out of the range. "Sometimes you act exactly like my older brother."
"Because you act like a child," Ethan countered, shaking his head. "If you want me to stop, then grow up."
"Nope. I'm a spoiled brat," Tim shouted back, sticking his tongue out before turning on his heel and walking away. Ethan just sighed. He was entirely used to Tim's sudden shifts in personality.
From across the room, Willy watched Tim's retreating figure silently. Something was definitely off. Tim was hiding a massive secret and Willy noticed that every single time the new recruit got one of those mysterious messages, he vanished.
That evening, Tim saw that he had been added to a new group chat titled: Club Members.
Logan:Check the pinned messages for the training schedule and club rules. Ask if you have any questions.
The rules were straightforward: internal competitions were held weekly, and attendance was mandatory. Perform poorly, and you were kicked out. Other than that, standard safety protocols applied.
Tim decided to type a message into the chat.
Tim:See you at the competition.
Willy:Not surprised. I wouldn't expect anything less from you.
Tim:What's wrong, Willy? Sad you can't see me every day? Don't worry, once I'm back from my trip, I'll be with you every single moment.
Willy:I don't give a damn. Do whatever you want.
Tim:Oh, I will. Don't change your mind later.
Tim smirked at his phone screen, a genuine spark of amusement hitting him. If there was one thing he loved, it was getting under Willy's skin.