"Hello." An excited voice transmitted through the phone, which was imdiately destroyed by another, more serious and cold.
"John Lebron," the voice spoke calmly, "never call this line again."
He was flabbergasted, but the call had ended before he could react, leaving him frozen like a fish in ice. Confusion overwheld his entirety.
But then, who wouldn’t? If a friend suddenly did sothing this abrupt with no explanation, adding to the fact you had been with them just yesterday and no clue was given, wasn’t it sensible for one to be left confused?
He was unconvinced, so he called for clarification and got an even bigger shock of his life.
"The number you dail does not exist."
He called again.
"The number you dail does not exist."
And again.
"The number you dail does not exist."
And again.
"The number you dail does not exist—"
Until his battery ran down, and he was left stranded, looking at the black screen with a blank face. His breath beca perturbed, and his eyes clouded over in rage.
[Smash!]
The gadget was smashed to pieces and he curled up in bed while holding his knees. Silent tears dripped down his face.
What exactly did he do?
He found out the very next day that he did nothing. In fact, in all of it, he was but a pawn and a victim.
A pitiful existence.
***
[Months Before the Incident]
"Lara," John exclaid in excitent as he walked into the café, where the pretty lady sat calmly, looking through her phone.
As soon as he called her, she looked up and smiled—a trait of hers he found extrely charming.
"What would you like?" she asked as he took his seat, slipping her phone into her bag to give him full attention.
His ex and other friends would never.
"It’d be aweso if I could order from you instead, but drinking this early would get the tag of an alcoholic, wouldn’t it?"
She chuckled, then called on the waiter, who took their orders.
"I want to introduce you to my other friends," she suggested, leaving him staring at her with a slackened jaw.
"Really?!"
"Really."
He was stunned.
After the bar incident, he beca friends with this perfect lady, and since then it had been weeks. And he had to say, so people do make the fairy tale friendship co true. Lara was one of them.
"Sure, sure, why not?" he replied, trying to suppress his excitent.
Lara grinned.
"Tomorrow night. My friends are a bit wild, so try to ignore them as much as you can and have lots of fun. I’m only friends with them because we sohow stuck through uni, and will soon cut them off."
"Anyhow—"
She cut him off, "In complex terms, they’re a bit problematic. In simple terms, they are trash. You can back out now if you want."
He shook his head. Of course, he wouldn’t back out. The first favor his lovely friend asked was sothing so simple.
If he rejected her, was he truly a friend?
"We’ll see tomorrow then."
Lara pumped her fist dramatically. "Yay!"
***
"This is Dora. Dora, this is John," Lara introduced while she sat at the bar table, drinking wine.
John was srized. He had only seen the more restrained version of her, and seeing her wilder side, he seed to be falling even deeper.
"Eyes on , lover boy. We get it, you have a crush on her."
The purple-haired lady snapped her fingers at him harshly. He flushed, but luckily, Lara ca to his rescue.
"Dora, stop that."
Dora rolled her eyes, then shoved a bottle of wine into his arms.
"Tonight, you party with us. And yes, we go wild."
John smirked.
"Do I look that much like a good boy?"
"Yeah," she downed a whole glass of wine in one go. "You look like a prude."
’And you look like a whore.’
... Oh, how badly he wanted to say that to this annoying lady, but for a certain person, he held himself back.
"Pfft," he rolled his eyes. "I guess you just have to learn not to judge a book by its cover."
Dora smirked lightly before swaying off into the brilliant lights along with the others leaving the duo to themself.
"Pretty, isn’t she?" Lara asked while swaying a glass of wine in her hands.
"Yeah. Pretty bitchy," he crossed his arms.
She laughed, the loud music drowning her lodious voice.
"I’ll apologize in her place then."
He shook his head as he stood. "No need."
He paused then turned to her, "Not coming?"
She smiled deeply, "Soon."
He was baffled and then staggered into the mass of people in a trance.
’Why was her smile so captivating?’
Or maybe he was just that gone.
The party was rabid. Despite the ss of drinks, mad dancing, and people randomly going down at each other, his eyes never left Lara, who rely stayed in her position, observing him with hawk-like precision.
Maybe he had been too conscious because, at the nth ti when he turned, she was already strutting towards him, swinging her figure with a casual grace that had him ogling like an idiot. Gosh, he loved this lady.
"What’s up, prude?" she teased.
He chuckled.
"How co you call them trashy? They seem okay to , just a bit wild, like my friends."
She gave a small smile.
"You have no idea, until you do."
She was right, and John regretted not listening to her and sohow ended up sleeping with that brat, even to the extent of becoming FWB.
If Lara had a charm that drew you to her and left you srized, Dora’s charm was her glib tongue. He was convinced she could lure a devoted priest to bed with it if she wanted.
Lara didn’t stop him. After all, you can only interfere so much in an adult’s life, but she did warn him to not get too close. In her words, he would be eaten alive if he ventured deeper than he already was.
***
His suspicions should have begun the day he found Lara in his father’s room.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a slight furrow but then he stopped, cautioning himself internally for his harshness.
"Oh," she turned, "I stumbled in here by so crazy accident— what is this place? The decor is superb!"
She exclaid in excitent, tracing her fair digits across the luxurious chair and the beautiful satin curtains until she reached the plain yet chic table, which had on it a petite-shaped device.
She traced her hands across it, too, and before John could react, she opened it sharply.
"That—!"
"Wow! Is this a laptop?? It’s my first ti!"
He almost doubted her but then he t her eyes and couldn’t rationalize the possibility of her lying with how clear they were.
"This... Where..."
Seeing her clicking randomly with an unsubtle curiosity, he chuckled lightly; she was so adorable.
"Alright, Lara, co on now," he urged while lightly pushing her away, leaving her pleading with puppy eyes. His heart was hit but he persisted. This was his father’s room— he’d rather not have her get into trouble.
"You haven’t seen a laptop? I’ll buy you one then."
Her pout turned to a confused look, "I have but have never used one. That... Model, was just odd looking. Also, why would you buy a laptop?"
"Don’t you like it?" he wondered.
She shrugged. "To observe yeah, I can’t even use that thing."
He pressed his lips in a bid to suppress his laughter but the funny look that ca with it wasn’t missed.
"Laugh all you want; so of us aren’t just techy, okay?
"Sorry~."
That incident passed away silently, and since then, he never caught her in that room again, although he did wonder how possible it was to ’stumble’ into a room as hidden as that.
He brushed it off, mostly because it never happened again and partly because of the guilt that ca with suspecting his friend. After all, how dramatic would it be if she turned out to be a spy?
But he still tested her, albeit secretly, to avoid triggering her dislike and the guilt that followed after she failed the test, deeming her illiterate tech-wise, and also lead her to hide away for two days out of sha, wiped off all remaining hesitation from his mind.
Had it not been for that, the next question he would have tackled would be why her sleepovers coincidentally fell into days when his father was not at ho.
There were even more of these questions, such as, why did she prefer not hanging out with his friends? Why didn’t she have any social dia accounts?
And most importantly, why did she lie about being friends with Dora?
She had only t her that night, as Dora had later told him.
But Lara was smart. Her answers were excellent and deflected all suspicions, even to the average person— talk more of John, who was biased towards her.
Her play was intelligent, so much so that he, of all people, with his constant paranoia let his guard down and was made a complete fool. Or maybe it was her charms.
Looking back, it was probably both, she had him on a fiddle from the mont she stepped into his life. And he... had long lost.
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