Tetris in Red

13: Tetris in His Room

13: Tetris in His Room

Alec

I can't sleep.

I've been tossing and turning in my bed for three hours straight, tired like I performed a ninety-minute set, my whole body overdriven. Yet no sliver of sleep has entered my system. Every little sound or movement in my room causes me to turn my head to look for it. I'm too aware and it's weird.

Even weirder that I can't shake the fact that Tetris Posziel is doors away from mine.

I throw the comforter away from my body like it's covered with red ants and get up from my bed to fetch some water. My hand pulls a blanket from my side drawer as I go on my way to the kitchen. I decided that if I can't sleep, I might as well watch some awesome movie to waste away my time.

Trying to sleep makes it harder to sleep, anyway.

I carry a container of milk and some snacks to the living room and settle on the huge sofa. It's a good thing there's a good selection of movies tonight or I might stick my foot on my mouth if I need to endure another chick flick or poorly-made horror films. It's bad enough that I can't get some rest and have nothing else to do.

Thump. Thump.

I burrow under my blanket to get comfortable as the action film I picked begins. God, it's been years since I watch a movie. I was a Communication major in college and sometimes during those years, my professors would ask us to critique films.

Thump. Thump.

I have loved doing it ever since. It became an excuse to point out what I don't like and what I love without being judged. Because the guys think I'm knowledgeable and have every right to do so. Plenty of opportunities to deliver good jabs.

"Are you in there?"

I stop mid-chew as I hear a voice. A feminine one. Definitely not from the movie. Chris Evans obviously doesn't talk like that. The voice says something again a little louder as I freeze. Unconsciously, I burrow my body deeper into my blanket and try to refocus on what I'm watching. God, I should have snatched a thicker blanket to have a better chance of chasing away uncalled spirits like that.

"Alec? It's Rhys. I can hear the television."

Her voice is soft and cautious as she continue to knock. I roll my eyes at my behavior. Debating with myself whether I should pretend I'm asleep and leave her out there waiting or open the door and suck it up, I decide with the latter. I uncurl the blanket away from my body and walk to the door.

The sight of Tetris standing at my door makes my chest clench and my heartbeat accelerate. We stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of us not knowing what to say. I raise a brow at her, prompting her to talk.

"Hi." The word comes out a squeak. I pretend to hide my amusement as she clears her throat and tries again. "Hi."

She stands there and begins to twist the hem of her shirt awkwardly. I start to feel like a jerk for not saying anything, so I opt for friendliness. "What's up?"

Tetris seems unsure for some reason. Honestly, her presence knocks me on my knees and not in a good way. She's a complete stranger and her sudden appearance in our lives caused our world to tilt on its axis. Now that she has grown a backbone to claim her songs, what's she going to do? Will she ruin us by exposing what has transpired? Will our career take a turn all of a sudden in the worst way possible?

Everyone is restless. And it's all because of this unknown woman waltzing into our lives without saying—like a thief in the night.

"Can I come in?" she says as I continue blocking the door.

The words are out before I mull it over. "So you can snoop some more, hope to find more of your songs?"

I see surprise coloring her face before she hides it with indifference. I almost think I imagined it. "Why don't you let me come in and we'll talk about it?"

"No."

"Alec—"

"Look. Talking with me or any of the guys would not mean shit." I lower my voice, afraid that someone will hear that is not my people. "I may sound like an asshole to you and you may think that I am rightfully so. But if you must know, we are only assigned to sing those songs."

"What?"

I sigh. "Welcome to the industry where you don't know what's real or not." I spread my arms wide before letting them fall to my sides with a muted thump. "I'm sorry, Tetris. But I can't do anything about it."

"Wait. Hold it back up—"

I start to hold the knob. "I'm really wiped. You should talk to Holland about it. I'm sure he has arrangements ready for you."

"No. No." To my surprise, Tetris pushes me inside and slams the door closed behind her. The woman has some strength. "We really need this talk."

"Sure. Come on in. Don't knock. You're very welcome." I turn my back to her and settle back on the sofa. Guess I have no choice but to see what she wants.

"Can you repeat what you said back there?"

"What is? Welcome to the—"

"Before that."

I slowly repeat what I said, not sure where she's going with it. "You mean the part about us only assigned to sing those songs?"

"So you mean..."

I lick my lips, shame eating at me like it always does when I talk about how dishonest my career is. "We didn't write any of our songs."

My head dips as my hand scratches the back of my neck before I lean against the sofa, staring at her. She's silent as she processes what I said. I don't like it. I don't like that she's looking at me like that, like she's trying to place me in a category. Probably, a thief or a fake, a liar or a fraud. Maybe they're true, but that's not on me. That's on the management.

I stand up, unable to bear the awkward silence. I gather her elbow on my hand and guide her to the door. Tetris is still not saying anything. And I'm briefly hit by the fact that she can spin whatever this is to the press. But my need to be alone is stronger than being concerned with anything by now.

I need to figure out how to handle this situation. This girl is getting more and more dangerous by the second. And it irks me that I still can't remember her.

A bulb flashes above my head as I gently let go of her arm.

I tilt my head. "Why do you look so familiar?"

Tetris only stares at me for a moment. A little while passes and I begin to think she isn't going to answer. Then she smiles. The kind that is all-knowing. Has ulterior motives. You name it. But with all certainty, it's sort of evil.

"We met around the time you got the songs for your first album."

I frown. "Really?"

"Hmmh-hmmh." Then she turns around and walks back to her room. "Goodnight, Alec."

I think I just dug myself a bigger grave.