****ADRIAN****
After the phone call with my brother, I felt increasingly restless, unable to shake off the unease that kept me awake and made bedtime impossible.
Aston’s disturbing revelation about the Marinos’ near-miss shooting had already unsettled me, but his hasty goodbye without elaborating on the cryptic ’something happened’ comment sent my imagination racing.
Now, the deafening silence from my brother had me sick with worry.
When I left home three years ago, my sole concern was avoiding any actions that might worry my family. Ironically, I now find myself consumed by worries about their well-being.
As I stood frozen in the middle of my living room, phone clutched in my hand, my mind raced with a flurry of questions while I awaited my brother’s call, my gaze drifting blankly into space.
One question I kept asking myself was, "what have I done?"
A sudden knock at the door sent me recoiling in terror, my heart racing and eyes wide with alarm. I froze, paralyzed by fear, my gaze fixed on the door, unable to take a step closer.
Oh God, what if it’s the Marinos? What if they’ve come to finish me off?
Panic set in, my mind racing with terrifying possibilities. Knowing I’m trapped, helpless, and utterly defenseless. What can I do? I am going to die.
I glanced around, frantically scanned the living room, desperate for anything to defend myself, when a faint, tremulous voice pierced the silence, calling my name from outside the door.
"Adrian, it’s me." The unmistakable voice of Carlos, my best friend called out to me and I let out a deep breath in relief.
I made a beeline for the door and yanked it open, only to reveal Carlos standing there in a ripped shirt, tears rolling down his eyes.
"Fucking hell, Carl! What happened to you?" I gasped, my eyes widened in shock when I saw his dress shirt stained with blood.
"Dad." He said simply and I just nodded my head, stepped aside for him to walk without asking anymore questions since I already know what happened.
Since his father discovered his sexuality by accident, Carlos had been exploited and coerced into prostitution.
His father used him as a call boy, peddling him to wealthy men for financial gain. Whenever Carlos resisted or refused, he was brutally beaten with a golf club, leaving him battered and submissive, until he was unable to defy his father’s demands.
"Have you eaten?" I asked as I closed the door, walking him to the couch.
Carlos winced in pain when he took his seat, I had a problem of my own but I couldn’t help the rage that was coursing through me right now.
"I’m not hungry." Carlos mumbled, turning his gaze to the other side. Obviously avoiding my
gaze.
"I’m sorry." I swallowed hard
I, not knowing
what else to say.
I met Carlos on the night I left home, at a bar where I was drowning in my sorrow. He approached me at my lowest point, and his kindness was a beacon of hope. When the owner threatened to call the police if I didn’t leave, Carlos intervened, offering me a safe haven - his home - for the night.
It was thanks to Carlos’s help that I landed the Job at ureat risner, and ne also went above and beyond to find this apartment for me.
When I discovered Carlos’s heartbreaking situation with his father, I offered what little support I could, but to my surprise, he declined.
Despite my concerns, Carlos refused to leave his father’s house, and his silence on the matter only deepened my worry.
Carlos was more than just a friend to me; he was my sole confidant, and I was his. Yet, despite our deep bond, he pushed me away whenever I tried to help.
His refusal to accept my support left me feeling helpless and frustrated, relegated to watching him suffer in silence. All I could do in this moment is to watch him cry himself to sleep until he would go back home in the morning.
Carlos turned around to face me, his mascara had ruined his eyes. "Can you hold me?"
I nodded my head, leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him as I whispered into his ear how sorry I was about his situation.
I drifted off to sleep, unaware of the time.
Hours later, I woke up to an empty space.
Carlos was gone, but I wasn’t surprised. It had become a familiar pattern; I had grown accustomed to waking up alone whenever I had him in my place.
"I hope he’ll come to realise one day that everything that’s happening to him is not his fault." I groaned out as I dragged my legs to the bathroom.
I glanced at the wall clock and couldn’t help but smile when I saw it was only 5:30 am. I had a
30-minute cushion before my shift started at Berry Hour. Working the early morning shift had its perks - the smoothie shop was just a short walk from my place, and the pre-work rush brought a steady stream of customers, plus the generous tips that always started my day off right.
Clad in my standard attire - black pants, blue shirt, and a light blue vest - I faced the mirror, only to be greeted by the unwelcome sight of puffy eyes, a telltale sign of tired night.
I disregarded the dark circles under my eyes, anticipating the inevitable teasing from my Berry Hour colleagues. Shrugging it off, I headed to the living room, where I grabbed my phone to check for any missed calls from my brother. The screen remained blank, with no notifications.
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I left a voicemail for my brother, expressing my concern and asking him to call me back as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I considered reaching out to Carlos but hesitated, knowing his habit of returning calls at his convenience. So, I opted to wait.
"I hope for today to pass without no hassle." I mumbled under my breath, and I was about to shove my phone in my pocket when it started buzzing.
"Huh? Who is this?" I wondered, my eyebrows arching in curiosity at the unfamiliar number flashing on my screen. I swiped right to answer and brought the phone to my ear.
"Hello.."
Giovanni Marino’s deep, unmistakable voice resonated through the phone, sending a jolt through me.
"Boyfriend," he said, and I gasped, nearly dropping the phone.
I pulled the phone away from my ear, doublechecking the caller ID to ensure I was indeed receiving a call from him and not hallucinating.
"What the fuck? Why are you calling me?" I half-yelled, my heart racing crazily in my chest as I tried not to think of how he got my number.
"Weird way to greet your boyfriend, but it’s okay." The bastard said with a chuckle and I fucking wished I could rip that mouth off his face.
With the last drop of courage in me, I grumbled out, "I don’t know how you get my number but please, don’t ever call me again."
I ended the call before he could even say another word. Grumpily, I grabbed my bag and flung it over my shoulder, grabbed the key to the front door and walked out of my apartment.
"I can’t afford to let this bastard ruin my morning." I hissed as I locked the door.
As I turned to leave, my gaze landed on a sleek, shiny car parked across from my apartment. My eyes widened in shock as Giovanni Marino emerged from the driver’s side, his chiseled features illuminated by the morning light. A self-assured smile spread across his face as he locked eyes with me, and with a deliberate flourish, he waved.
"Ready to leave for work?" He called out, leaning against his car.
My hands dropped to my sides, lifeless, while my legs trembled beneath me. "What the hell?" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.