Bed Sheets II

64. Ten Minutes

4 months later

"It'll work," Miranda whispered to a shuddering Hector who was unable to stop himself from sweating, "it has to." Hector was worried that he would lose this position as the me bâtir approached the Chancellor's floor. Since again, Draven was standing behind him, with Jason and Eric as well.

They had formed this plan four months ago; Draven had handwritten twenty new projects that were ready to be revised and edited. He had piled the notes in three suitcases, and his team was meant to approach the Chancellor and offer him a deal. This was their only hope, and Draven, insanely nervous, bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes before it reached the Chancellor's floor.

They had entered from the back of the building, the doorway that no security guards supervised. They also made certain that the audio room guards were on their breaks, therefore nobody would be present to check the cameras and see them enter ok. It had been discreetly successful, until they reached the elevator and all of them were evaporating heat from how nervous they were.

Once the elevator door opened, Miranda nodded her head confidently and escaped first. Hector, Jason and Eric followed behind her, each holding one of the filled suitcases, and Draven was the last one, attempting to relax his breathing as he noticed all the eyes turning to face them. Ok echoed across the floor, and thankfully, it was easy to find the Chancellor who was, as always, in the conference room with a client.

The moment the Chancellor saw the team through the glassed walls of the conference room, he was seen exhaling a long breath. He lowered his forehead into his palms, and Miranda took the lead, pushing open the door and holding it for the other three to follow.

As for Draven, he reached inside his pocket and opened the letter he had written, re-reading them for the millionth time.

"Chancellor—"

"Do I know you all?" he eyed Miranda and Jason. "Hector? Who are these people? And why is Eric Valence here?"

All of them were frightened to speak that Miranda cleared her throat and took the lead, "We are here to offer you a proposal."

The Chancellor snorted, "Security guards are on their way, so I suggest you all disappear—"

"Twenty of Draven H. Malcom's unreleased new projects unrevised and unedited ready to be worked on right now. All packed in these three suitcases. Titles such as Dreaming Dreams, The View from the Golden Castle, Have You Seen Red Clouds; projects that he poured his blood sweat and tears into, all given to you. It will boost your sales, dramatically increase your profits and you will be able to hire numerous more authors for this agency."

This was a golden deal for the Chancellor; the name Draven H. Malcom was known worldwide, that novels from him were read by anyone. Twenty unreleased comic novels was more novels than Draven had even released so far, and Chancellor was seconds from drooling.

However, he knew there was a catch. "And what am I supposed to give you in exchange?"

Miranda glanced towards them, noticing that the Chancellor's face was softening. "Just ten minutes of your time to speak with Draven."

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, not having predicted that, "That's it?"

"Make it fifteen," Jason said.

To which Miranda violently eyed him, "We discussed ten."

"I'll give him twenty," the Chancellor decided before waving towards Draven, "Whatever he has to say must be good if that's all he's asking for."

Draven was visibly seen shaken up, and when he realized the Chancellor was waving towards him, he jumped in his stance and glanced everywhere before lowering his eyes and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He exhaled a few deep breaths before finally reaching towards the door and pulling it open, "I-I didn't mean to...d-disturb you while with a client, there was no other way—"

"You all are just going to stand there or can we have a bit of privacy?" he snarled at the other. Startled, they raced towards the door and exited before another word was said. He then eyed the client, "This meeting is happening another time."

"But—"

"Anyways," he dismissed him, returning his attention towards Draven, who avoided eye contact, "What did you have to say to me?" He even leaned forward over the table, and realized Draven's fingers were trembling with the letter in his palms.

Draven sighed, attempting to begin reading the letter he had written, but weirdly enough, all the words seemed to smudge the ink together. His vision was growing blurry from being anxious, and he scratched the side of his face, "Dear Chancellor,

I hope you've been doing well. I...I don't want to take too much of your time and I don't want you to feel obliged in taking me back. My g-goal here is...wait I'm at the wrong sentence...first, I wanted to start off...I'm s-sorry I'm just..."

"Draven," the Chancellors interrupted calmly, realizing that the stress was causing him to panic, "you don't need that paper. Slow down, I'm listening."

Draven bit his bottom lip, before ripping the paper in half and leaning over the table. "Look, Mr. Gravers," Draven lowered his eyes and observed his fingers fiddle with the ripped paper for a moment before exhaling a sigh, "I used to have nothing. I grew up in the foster system, so I didn't even have a family. I worked as a cashier, barely had enough to support myself and I rarely ever wrote anymore. I had given up on my dream, and there was nothing left for me to do."

"Then Sophie, my secretary who was my lover at the time, sent my documents to Waterfalls Agency. Not even finished, revised or edited, and the sheets had all darkened, some even had spots of coffee spills. I used to live four hours away from here, and was furious when I found out she did. But you called, and you sounded ecstatic and asked to meet with me."

He pointed to the team behind him who were seen on the other side of the soundproof glass, "I was a nobody, and you gave me a shot. Then I moved here, and I was able to meet these people, meet the love of my life, I even got married at one point and even reach my dream that I had once even thought forgetting altogether. All I have is because of you, Matthew."

There was a short pause and Draven sighed, "Look, what I'm trying to say is, you don't have to take me back. I'm not here in attempts to make you take me back, I'm here to thank you and at least be on good terms with you. I messed up, and I'm really sorry. I disappointed in a way that I could probably never repay you for, and I sincerely apologize. But I also came to thank you, because without you, I don't even think I'd be alive."

Mr. Gravers did not say anything for a minute, leaning his chin on his fingers and eyeing Draven. He was avoiding his gaze, afraid that Mr. Gravers had not thought the apology to be sincere, and he kept his eyes blankly towards the floor.

Eventually, Mr. Gravers sighed, "You're talented, Draven. You're a good person as well; don't let the fame and privilege you receive, blind you from the kindness within your heart."

Draven's eyes widened, and his head lifted immediately. The instance he met Mr. Graver's gaze, his heart stopped.

"Your floor has not been touched since you left. It only deserves to be owned by you, don't you think?"