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
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
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
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
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
“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
Well had his eyes glued at the car’s tinted window, every ounce of his attention focused on the speeding vehicles driving past them. Inside his mind, a mini pendulum clock was working. Down to the last few minutes, he warned to himself after seeing that they were about to drive through the last slope of the wide and almost empty highway. “Hold your horses, my Junior. We’re only kilometers away!” Gerard, his dad who had always called him ‘my Junior,’ said with a curving lips on his face. His sweaty palm hugged tightly on the steering wheel, allowing their car’s movement speed to accelerate up to 90 kilometers per hour. “I can’t believe our baby boy’s leaving us.” Karina Smith sniffed, starting another episode of her Please-Don’t-Break-My-Heart drama, while trying her best not to burst out her emotion juice. As a small family of three, and as a family ruled by democracy, she had no choice but to follow the decision of his two boys. Well going to West Berg—she never wanted it. She had
It happened so fast. The next thing Well had known was he's staring at his apartment's window pane, looking down at the parking lot outside the building searching for two great parents who he wished had never left. Cars of all types and colors were bugging the highways, like a colony of ants walking to and from their beloved anthill. It was a complete mess in the eyes of the boy. But despite the topsy-turviness happening under the sun, he was still able to spot the two apples of his eye-his Mom and Dad. He opened the door for her. She went in to sit. He smiled. She smiled. He held her hand. She blushed. He closed the door. She fastened her seat belt. He went to the driver's seat. She followed him with her eyes. Well was supposed to be there inside the car, with them, feeling the love in the air. But he missed this time. By the looks of it, the way the scene happened inside the car didn't really much answered the question if whether or not they will be longing for Well. They will, o