"Hey, wait!" Daniel called Well as he tried to escape from his inevitable acquaintance. "You have not introduced yourself yet," he added as he tried to belt down the remaining liquid inside his bottle. "I said I don't have any plans of introducing myself. I don't even need some new friends, so yeah, that means I don't want to meet you as well. The rumors about me are true. Live with it.” Whatever it was that Well said, he meant it all. He was not here in this place to meet friends. He did not even want to go here in the first place, but he was left with no choice but to tag along because his new friend (the only friend he made so far) insisted him to do so. And since Well felt like his friend, Joross had been so open and comfortable with him so far, so he just did what he was supposed to do. After all the secrets that Joross had revealed to Well, it was really reasonable for Well to just follow him.“Wow, you are indeed a snob, they are right,” Daniel confirmed, but there was no sign
Well was already on the peak of his patience because of Daniel. He had never felt this annoyed his entire life, and he thought, if only there was a way for him to escape this bar full of crazy, lunatic, and socially attention seekers, he would have done it already. Well looked around to find Joross. While his eyes were scanning the bar full of grooving, drinking, singing, and dancing people, a thought was lingering in his mind. No one knew what was it, but it was most likely a script or a line he was practicing in his head when he would finally see Joross and tell him that he wanted to go back to his hotel room already.“Are you looking for somoene?” Daniel chimed in, after about three minutes of staying silent.Well thought he was gone already because he ignored him. But no, he was still there, behind him, waiting for his perfect time to open up a conversation again. “Oh, wow. You are unbelievable,” Well mentioned.“I know,” Daniel confidently spoke back, tossing a glass of champagne
Well and Daniel walked together all the way to the private parking lot of the bar where Daniel’s blue Lambroghini car was being parked, waiting for its driver to finally turn it on and maneuver. Well could not believe it. He was going to ride into some stranger’s car without giving prior notice to his only friend that he was going to leave. But he did not know where Joross was. He did not know if he had gone back to the hotel already without telling Well, or he was still inside the bar, talking with someone in some private place that Well was not aware of.Following Daniel as he unbolted the door next to the driver’s seat, Well said, “Are you sure you will not take me anywhere? How can I assure that you are not a kidnapper?” Again, Well’s very own trust issues had brought him some serious panic. His heart was thumping loud and fast, like what he would always feel every single time he took on to something that was beyond his trust and comfort. This was normal to him, though. But to Dan
“Wait, what? Where did you put it?” Daniel asked Well, but Well had completely no idea. Daniel slowed down his driving and helped Well to look around the car just in case he only dropped it somewhere. But no he did not. Well was convinced that he either left it on a table inside his hotel room, or on the bed of Joross’ boyfriend’s room. It had to be either of those two places. If Well would check those two rooms and found out that none of those places was where his phone was, he would surely go devastated. That phone held all the contacts of his family, his friend, and it even contained crucial information given by his Dad about this place. Well did not memorize his parents’ phone numbers, so if he could not find that phone, he would be as good as dead. He would not be able to contact anyone at all, and he would live all by himself for sure.“It’s not here,” Well said to Daniel just when he was done searching the back of the car. “But I think I did not bring it with me when I went to
When Well arrived at the front door of his own hotel room, the first thing he did was to search his pockets and find for the key. It took him some tine, but when he did found it at last, he swiftly poked it through the key hole and twisted the door knob open. A dark, unlit yet obviously wide empty aisle welcomed him as he moved his right foot foward first. He slid to the left to reach for the light switches, and then a bright white and yellow lights illuminated the place. For the first time in this particular day, Well felt home again. Although technically, it was not really a home. Well’s definition of a home was one that does not feel empty and quiet, but rather one that does gives you an unexplainable amount of excitement each time you smell the aroma of a chicken curry in the air, and hear the music player of your Dad all the way from upstairs. This place was absolutely different to Well’s ideal home. If only he was allowed to change his mind and back out from West Burge College a
Well was left with no choice but to knock on the closed door of Daniel, and ask him if he could, by any means, help him go back to that bar and find Joross-- and might as well test his luck in looking for the missing phone, too. If during the first few hours of the night Well had ever questioned Daniel’s trustworthiness, right now he had to set aside that thing and focus on something that mattered most. And those two; Joross which was missing in action, and the phone, were the things that Well needed to find before the night came to an end. That could only be possible with the use of a little help from anyone, and that anyone had to be Daniel.Well had no clue which room on this building was Daniel’s apartment. However, he happened to remember that Daniel had mentioned a while ago that he was living inside a VIP hotel room just like Well, and so it did not appear to difficult spotting the room from that piece of information. There were only one VIP room in each floor, and all it took
A gust of the evening wind blew the bleak and silent night of the New Bill highways, the tranquil trees dancing along the rhythm of the crickets’ song like a crowd in a bar. It had been minutes away from turning ten o’clock in the evening when Daniel and Well reached halfway of their journey going back to the bar. A weird kind of atmosphere wrapped the inside of the car, and an increasing tension blocked the throats of the two boys; taking away their ability to cast out some words. As for Well, the chance of finding his phone seemed paper thin. But for Joross, on the other hand, he looked hoppeful. He knew that at some point, one way or another, he would show up. After all, the last time Well saw him was when he was dancing on the dancefloor with some of their upclass. He might have been drunk, yes, but he was at least thirty percent sober (or that was how Well thought of him to be). Sooner, after fifteen minutes more of driving, Daniel and Well finally reached the block where the bar
Daniel fiddled with his fingers onto the keyboard flashed on his cellphone’s screen and it vibrated so loud that Well could already tell how fast did he type. As a matter of fact, Well could not keep up with the pace of Daniel's fingertips. His eyes tried to catch a glimpse of the message he worked out with but the only thing he saw was the sent button. The message had been delivered to the receiver. It would not take long before a reply coming from someone inside the bar would shoot back to Daniel. The two guys waited for some time, until after a good minute or two, the phone vibrated. A soft hushing wind swept through the mammoth crowd, just at the same time the cellphone lit up. You received a message from Bryan, the notification tab said to Daniel. He opened it, slowly rotating to the left, opposite Well, trying his best not to show him the message. "He got it," Daniel informed him. "He read the message and told me he is fine with it. He just needs some description. Like I told
“Nowadays, it is not only tangible things that are stolen. Culprits and stalkers like them are often sent out in the world to steal impossible things like information and codes. I believe that is the thing that keeps them from running after us. Because if it is only a material thing, they could have stolen it long before already. But it’s different. They are needing a piece of information, and only the best of the best spies and culprits can do it. Only those who are willing to risk their lives and last breath only to get their ears closer to the information that their bosses need,” Binsent Anchorman explained. “Okay, okay. Hold on, why are we here again? Because, technically, since I am now an official member of the alliance, am I not right to know the basics of this group? Like, what are we working for? And who? And why? And basically all the questions you think I need the answer from?” Arjay chimed in, standing by the end of the bleacher together with Allen Mar. Even up until this
Binsent Anchorman, together with Well, Arjay, and Allen Mar gathered all together onto the bleachers that were lining up outside of the church. “It has come to my attention that you are being followed. Now that we are here, somewhere that is least expected by the people to see us being gathered, I doubt if stalkers will still come after us,” Binsent Anchorman said as he laid down his suitcase on the ground. He was the first among them four to sit on the bleachers. This time, he was wearing a funny, little hat that did not match his tuxedo outfit at all. However, one thing that Allen Mar and Well could assure was that, in that outfit, he looked like their late friend, his twin brother, Detective Deib Anchorman. Well slouched down next to Binsent Anchorman; his eyes had been wondering around as if they were two little footage cameras scanning for possible threats around them. “I am now starting to question our presence in this city. Us being stalked remains a mystery to me. But one th
Binsent Anchorman, together with Well, Arjay, and Allen Mar gathered all together onto the bleachers that were lining up outside of the church. “It has come to my attention that you are being followed. Now that we are here, somewhere that is least expected by the people to see us being gathered, I doubt if stalkers will still come after us,” Binsent Anchorman said as he laid down his suitcase on the ground. He was the first among them four to sit on the bleachers. This time, he was wearing a funny, little hat that did not match his tuxedo outfit at all. However, one thing that Allen Mar and Well could assure was that, in that outfit, he looked like their late friend, his twin brother, Detective Deib Anchorman. Well slouched down next to Binsent Anchorman; his eyes had been wondering around as if they were two little footage cameras scanning for possible threats around them. “I am now starting to question our presence in this city. Us being stalked remains a mystery to me. But one t
In the taxi, nothing much had happened other than a small conversation involving Well, Binset Anchorman, and some interesting and trivial things about the late Detective Deib Anchorman, his twin brother. It was surely a wholesome moment. It was surely a wholesome conversation. But if not for the fact that Well was the one that initiated the conversation, none of those would have ever existed. “I only met Detective Deib Anchorman for like a couple of days,” Well started two minutes just when the engine started. “And just like you, he started as a taxicab driver, too. I met him when I asked for a taxi who can send me to the nearest ATM station because I just lost my phone and I needed to buy something. He was the one who accompanied me to the Octagon Shop where I was able to find myself a new phone. He was a good man, indeed. I don’t think if I have said this earlier, but this is something that I was not able to tell him. I was too selfish to even inform him how good of a man he was,” We
Just when Well arrived at the ground floor, he noticed some coalition of people not far from where he was standing. Intrigued by the on going noises, he went to see what was happening over there. After a few more meters of walking, he finally figured out what that mess was all about. Simple. It was primarily because over there was a food hall and the reason why he could hear metals banging against each other was because they were spoons and forks, and noisy people who were trying to satisfy themselves with the food that they eat. Apparently, it triggered the growling of Well’s stomach. All of a sudden, he wanted to dive into the line too to get himself something to feed for his angry tummy. Convinced that there was no time for his social anxieties anymore, he absentmindedly fell in line. He tucked his wallet out of his pants’ left pocket and draw out his credit card. Finally, he could eat now. It took him roughly ten to fifteen minutes to finally make it to the counter. There, he ord
With both of his hands clasping against each other, Well shot a gaze through the busy hallway. He saw nurses in the rush, assistants going back and forth and to and from different rooms, doctors running with their shoelaces untangled, and other more disturbing and unusual things for Well but were considered normal and part of the routine in any hospitals. Well decided to go for a stroll outside the hospital and find something to eat. He had not eaten anything since lunch time, and he barely even finished his food back in the tavern because of Allen Mar’s intuitive conversation with the bloke man about the three suspicious men in suit initiating a negotiation talk with the secret society’s leader. Time check, it was already ten minutes past seven in the evening. Around this time, Well should have had in his bed already– ready to sleep because tomorrow was going to be another day full of unwanted surprises– but here he was now, in the hospital, with someone he only knew less than ten hou
His nerves had never been feeling this tight. The flowing of blood all over his body had been insufficient, but the only thing he ever had in his mind was Allen Mar. He kept thinking of him. He kept thinking and thinking and thinking of him. Questions spun around his brain; ‘How was the operation?’ ‘Will he be okay?’ ‘Will he survive?’ ‘What are the odds of him dying?’ ‘Was the doctor not joking when he said that Allen Mar’s injury was serious and could even bring up his death if certain actions had not been taken immediately?’ With both of his hands clasping against each other, Well shot a gaze through the busy hallway. He saw nurses in the rush, assistants going back and forth and to and from different rooms, doctors running with their shoelaces untangled, and other more disturbing and unusual things for Well but were considered normal and part of the routine in any hospitals. Fully convinced that the operation will take longer than expected, Well decided to go for a stroll outside
Detective Deib Anchorman was the first to make it close to the manhole. When he got there, he drew his ear closer to the ground floor. “I don’t hear anything,” he said after five seconds of focusing all his hearing senses on the ground. “I am supposed to be hearing footsteps and cranking guns and indistinct chatters coming from the soldiers, but I don’t hear anything right now. “Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?” Well asked, his heart had been pounding so fast and so strong it was no different compared to a jack hammer used in smacking a hardened soil. Allen Mar chimed into the conversation and then corrected Well, “It is supposed to be a good thing, I believe. The detective not hearing anything from above only means that the soldiers have not returned from the search yet. That means we will have enough time to make it out here and perhaps even out of the vicinity as well. Although the latter would be so dangerous, and I don’t think our chances of success are that
Different scenarios had been playing in his head to the extent that he was lost already and could not distinguish the reality from the hallucinations. Hope had been the only chance he had. And although his abdomen churned in fear, and the back of his neck had been filled with goosebumps, Well only braved the situation and sat on one of the chairs at the waiting area, believing in his friend, Allen Mar that he would survive the operation no matter what. Prayers came out of his lips unconsciously without him knowing it. Fully convinced that the operation will take longer than expected, Well decided to go for a stroll outside the hospital and find something to eat. He had not eaten anything since lunch time, and he barely even finished his food back in the tavern because of Allen Mar’s intuitive conversation with the bloke man about the three suspicious men in suit initiating a negotiation talk with the secret society’s leader. Time check, it was already ten minutes past seven in the ev