"No, I don't want the words to get out this early," Simon emphasized.
Maybe checking the CCTV footage wasn't such a bad idea considering the situation they were currently in. It would be easier and save them some time, but it's also easy for the information to leak.
Simon knew that everything would be shown on the stage, but as the leading actors, they weren't ready yet. They had barely scratched the surface, and more than anything else, Simon would rather take more time to keep this matter private.
Simon knew that Paul wouldn't want skeletons from his past rattling in public.
"…yeah." Julian knew Simon would reject the idea, but it was still better than racking his brain alone.
…
Paul was walking down the street, now that he was out on bail. The sun hung high above him, observing him with curious rays, trying to read his thoughts.
Walking alone like this had become his routine, but something kept bugging him, something he couldn't shake off.
The girl was following him fifteen steps behind.
Even though Paul mostly preferred to be left alone, seriously… who likes being stalked? If she really wanted to tag along, why not walk with him? He wouldn't mind too much, but oh well… there was nothing he could do about it.
"This Sunday," Paul murmured to himself.
That's what she had said, but recalling what day it was…
"She knows—" Paul's thoughts quickly vanished as he saw a figure a few meters ahead, casually leaning against the wall.
Roxy.
"He came." Paul knew Roxy would show up, but sooner than he expected.
Analyzing Roxy's character, he didn't seem like a guy who would care much about what happened last night, or would he? It was time to find out.
Paul kept his pace steady, walking up to Roxy.
He stood beside him in silence, eyes following the same direction.
"The weather looks fine today," Roxy murmured under his breath, but Paul heard it and chose to remain silent.
Seconds passed, and there was only silence.
Maybe Roxy was expecting a reply, but seeing that Paul wasn't saying anything, he retracted his gaze and said,
"Say something, mate. I've been waiting here for decades."
"I know it's on me," Paul replied, his tone friendly as if they'd known each other for years, "still, I can't say I expected to see you this early."
"I heard you were in a hurry?"
"Nah, not really. By the way, how much did you hear from them?" Paul inquired lightly.
"Oh, like how you baited them into their own coffin? I'd love to see that show. Still, those motherfuckers didn't say much. Only the guy from the previous night wants to meet you. After looking at their body language, I guess you really need some medicine. Am I right?"
"Too much credit. It was self-defense, by the way. Anyone with some training can pull off something like that."
"I missed a good show."
"I can show you again if you really want to."
"Nah… chill out, I was just kidding. I'd rather dip my wick in some smelly bitch and call it a good night than be a part of that shit, and you should too—try to keep your hands clean. Just watch the play from the sidelines," Roxy suggested gently.
"You know the world is a big place, right? There's always someone standing behind someone. Take this as free advice. I don't want to go to paradise this young and meet my ancestors."
"Yeah, I know," Paul nodded in understanding. "I just got lucky this time, that's all."
As he said this, his gaze caught sight of Mia passing on the opposite side of the street. She tried looking out of the corner of her eye. Her face looked suspicious.
"Well, at least she knows how to keep her mouth shut."
"Yeah," Roxy said, shifting to his nonchalant tone. "You're free this evening, right?"
"This evening?" Paul touched his chin and went into deep thought.
Well, there was nothing to think about, honestly, but something kept ringing in his head, and he couldn't let it go.
"I don't know about you, but there's something missing. It all started from there, right? You saw it too, didn't you? After that… one by one, don't you think this is too much of—"
"What's there to think about? We can roll all night and start the new week."
"Yeah, but I've got stuff to do. How about tomorrow evening?"
"Stuff?" Roxy gestured toward the school.
"Nah… some personal work and shit."
"Well… I guess it's settled then, tomorrow evening."
"Yeah," Paul nodded slightly, relieved. Roxy was quick to understand.
"Oh, by the way, slide your contact," Roxy pulled out his smartphone. "How the fuck will we be in touch?"
Paul nodded slightly, agreeing, and took Roxy's phone. He gave it back after typing his number.
"Alright then, we'll be done here."
"Yeah, I'll hit the road too."
And both departed. Roxy turned in the left direction, and Paul went straight. Though, after a few seconds, he heard Roxy's voice again.
"Hey, wait. I forgot to give you something."
"To give me something?" Paul turned around quickly and saw Roxy taking something out from the back of his jeans pocket.
"What is it?" Paul asked slightly, wondering to himself.
"Heh..." Roxy took out a small plastic pouch and put it inside Paul's blazer. "It ain't much, but still enough to keep you from cracking up."
"You don't have to." Paul reached inside his blazer's pocket. "At least tell me how much."
"Nah… we can settle all of this tomorrow. What do you say?"
"Alright then." Paul agreed, and they both parted ways again.
"Don't ditch me, my friend."
The curtain silently danced behind him, and he once again found himself standing on the balcony to get some fresh air. He had just finished making dinner.
Looking at the night city like this, without any meaning or anything, was probably the best time of day.
Slowly, his hand reached into his pocket and pulled out the plastic pouch Roxy had given him earlier.
He lifted his hand slightly and examined the material inside—the white powder, which everyone loves when they need to escape something.
"What am I gonna do with this?"
Paul obviously hadn't tried this, and never wanted to. He thought of sending it to be examined, but looking at the quantity, which was barely above ten grams, it was easy to guess that this was just local stuff.
It would be a waste of time, nothing more.
He slipped the pouch back into his pocket, then reached for something else, but it wasn't there. He checked the other pocket; only a lighter.
"Shit." He peered down at the street below. The convenience store was still open.
Under the watchful gaze of the stars, his footsteps echoed on the cold streets. With nothing much on his mind, his thoughts wandered to Baldy's case—how much Simon had discovered, and when he would find out everything. He thought maybe Simon had probably gotten some solid leads by now, leads he couldn't even speculate about.
As he was thinking of this and that, he reached the convenience store. He caught sight of figures, rambling nonsense.
But it wasn't his problem in the least, he thought, and entered the convenience store. And there she was, standing at the counter, paying for the accessories she brought.
Varsha.
Another coincidence? No, it would be weirder if he didn't see her. They are next-door neighbors, after all.
Stop overthinking.
As Paul reached the counter, Varsha was done paying for her things and turned around. She felt a little startled, but then she quickly realized that Paul lived next door.
Her previous conversation with Paul suddenly *clicked*, but she quickly suppressed the thought.
She hurried out of the convenience store, not noticing the guy in front of her. Oops! She bumped right into him.
"Sorry." She apologized slightly and quickly tried to leave, but her hand was caught forcefully.
"Ya think you can walk away just like that, haa??" The guy she bumped into said, his tone drunken.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Another guy standing beside the drunken guy, his friend, asked.
"Sorry, he had too much today," he said, and tried to separate the hand gripping Varsha.
"Hey, hey." The drunken guy babbled some nonsense as his hand let go of Varsha.
Varsha felt a little nervous, but as the matter didn't escalate much, she quickly turned around and rushed towards her apartment.
She heard the slight murmur of the drunken guy; her instinct told her to look behind, but she didn't.
Then she heard the approaching footsteps behind her, right beside him, and that same drunken guy stood in front of her, blocking her path.
"Where ya goin', missy? Ain't cha think you owe me somethin'?"
Varsha was startled for a second as she tried to walk away from the situation. But wherever she tried to walk, the drunken guy stood there, blocking her path with his arms open wide and a creepy smile on his face.
"This ain't a good idea, I'm telling ya," his friend called out from behind, with slow footsteps.
The drunken guy slowly closed the gap between him and Varsha as he responded to his friend. "Shut your ass up, Rico, I know you want a part of this, too."
He got close to Varsha, as her legs moved backward, but soon stopped. The wall.
She was cornered against the wall.
"Say somethin', missy. Don't cha think we'd be a good match?"
"Why? Why is this happening to me?" As her mind went into deep overthinking, she remembered the words of her father.
But this was not the time to overthink. She raised her spirits and locked eyes with the guy.
"Can you let go of me?"
"Oh, you got killer eyes, missy." He pressed both hands against the wall. "But that's totally in my taste."
His face got closer to her delicate neck and he smelled her, like a hunter checking his prey before eating.
Varsha pushed the guy and crouched down slightly, trying to escape, but as soon as she left the cage, the threads tightened once again around her hand, stopping her from getting away.
"Let go," Varsha persisted.
"Oh, don't be like that. It'll not even take an hour."
"I'm telling you to let go, or I'm—" her sentence stopped mid-way when she saw him getting out of the store.
PAUL!"
Her mind raced more quickly, and she wanted to scream—no, to call out to Paul, or for him to simply notice her and help her, or something like that.
Though she wasn't expecting much from Paul, still. Two was always going to be more than one.
Even if the drunken guy's friend, who was just watching from the sidelines, joined in, they could still manage it somehow.
Just hurry up and look at me.
Here.
Why is he just…standing there?
"Don't ignore me, my queen." As the drunken guy followed Varsha's gaze, he saw it.
Rico, watching the play from the sidelines, also wondered and followed their gazes.
A random guy stood at the entrance of a convincing store, tapping a cigarette against his hand.
He turned his head, the cigarette slowly reaching his lips, then he noticed.