Y/N snuggled deep in his bedcovers, sleeping restful as he hasn't before. However disrupt from his sleep by a phone call.
His head deep in the pillow as his hand crooked out to grab the phone piled on the desk. He answered unknown to the caller.
"Hello..?" His voice gruff. "Yo, dude.." the voice said back, dangled with a tingle of feebleness. The ached voice fully rested him.
He elbowed up, filling up with every second of anxiety. "What's going on?" He questioned, trying to hush his distressed voice.
"You're girlfriend, bro.. I planned to surprise you but... it wasn't you," he finished. Y/N scrambled his brain for an excuse.
"M-Maybe it isn't her! Just a pedestrian, you know?" His voice scrambled with panic. "No dude.. who else would wear that flamboyant red sundress.."
Y/N wrecked down, flopping to his bed. His hand limped low as his fingers did the same. The phone fell as murmurs came through.
He voiced all noise off, only dressing himself in his own thoughts, pitying and blaming himself. This went on for days, thinking and crying.
Weeks passed and he thought fully, realizing he wasn't the problem.. no it was her..
He only felt anger in that moment... just anger. With feelings of retribution roaming in his veins, he sought out to him enact a plan.
He goes to a shoe store, few miles out near his house. He had bought the same shoes as his friend, bearing the same size as well.
He then fled to his apartment, ransacking everything and searching anything for plausible motive to have him kill her.
He stirred around the kitchen, his room, and finally his restroom. He sat on the toilet, contemplating. "Shit.." he muttered, helping himself up with the sink beside.
He walked to check himself out, and the floorboard below creaked heavily. He flinched in surprise but soon ripped the carpet that sat underfoot.
He saw numbered tapes and remembered the tape player along back. He smiled. Maybe I hit jackpot.. Y/N played the tape, viewing the contents.
He left the screen blank, etching a satiated smile after watching. He stole a few numbered, cowering then inside his pockets.
He turned the basket of tapes inside as it was before, reaching out the door, heading home.
After reaching home he watched the other few, and carried a sullen expression after watching a specific one, with her.
He stayed silent and emotionless, carrying on his duties and still moving forward to conduct his plan.
Around the city he walked, smiling after he found a pay phone along the curbed street. Once empty he walked inside, dialing a quarter and waiting.
"Hello..?" A voice said, uncertain. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to convey a darker and deeper vocal tone. "Hello," Y/N replied.
"Who's this?" the voice replied. "It doesn't matter, Jake. However what does matter is what you do as I say," Y/N said.
"H-How do you.. Who are you?!" Jake yelled, disturbed and profound with a dose of anger.
Y/N clicked his tongue. "Hold on, Jake. We don't want those tapes going public, do we?"
"T-Tapes? What are you talking about.. I don't—" Y/N caught him off, chuckling. "Well, let me remind you. Those tapes of those innocent women, with you—"
"S-Stop! I understand.. W..What do you want? Money, or something else of value?"
"Yes, you have something I want.. I want you to meet Lyla. You do know her, yes?" Y/N said, as the other end of the trailed line goes quiet.
