SORRY? | Darkstache

6 ; calls

WILFORD SAT IN his room, blankly looking down at his phone. The screen had Dark's contact on it.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was this little feeling that urged him away from the call button. He didn't know what awaited him.

"He's your friend," he mumbled, sighing. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed the call button, his breath held in his chest.

There was a long series of burr...burr...burr's...

No answer.

That's what kept him from calling his friend. He was afraid his calls would be denied. Never answered. Left empty.

He tried again. Three more times, there was still no answer.

What he didn't know was that Dark's phone was on mute. He was attending that board meeting with Mrs. Wayfair and her colleagues.

.

THE MEETING WAS called to an end, and everyone stood, bidding each other farewells and exiting the room.

"Mr. Edward."

Dark stopped, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to Mrs. Wayfair, and they shared a hand shake.

"I'm so glad you attended."

The male smiled. "I'm glad you invited me. Thank you."

Mrs. Wayfair returned the smile, and the two exited the meeting room, walking down the halls of the complex building.

"I must say, though," Dark spoke up as they walked, hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the floor. "Why invite me to such a respected estate? I see no need."

Mrs. Wayfair smiled, her blue-grey eyes sharp and looking ahead. "As I've said, you've remarkable grades. But I don't want to just focus on that."

They paused, standing in the middle of the hall. Bright light was shining through the glass-pane walls beside them.

"I'm interested in you, Mr. Edward."

There was a small silence. "Me?"

Mrs. Wayfair nodded, eyes gleaming. She looked down at the male.

"You're very, very bright. I want to give you the opportunity to use it. And so I brought you here to work with our fellow colleagues. That is—if you want to."

Dark's eyes were slightly wide. Work with a pristine estate? Absurd!

"There's... no catch?" he muttered, eyes sparkling with disbelief.

Mrs. Wayfair hummed, lightly shaking her head.

"Follow me."

..

Wilford tried calling again. And then again. But there was still no answer.

"He must be busy..." the man muttered, staring down at the screen. It was like it was laughing at him—just pointing out his patheticness.