Third Person
Oeillet de règne Académie: Faculty Office
6:14 P.M.
The 23-year-old, Edward Broshe, was feeling the exhaustion, he never experienced before as a man of time management and composure. Tilting his head to look up above, the black smoke was extinguished from the clearing, but the night sky covered most of the glowing celestial ball of lights.
His smile disappeared when he felt the not-so-strange vibration in his pants, "Hello."
There was a series of silence before the person on the other line spoke, "Good job! Edward..."
"Just keep acting normal. From now on, keep acting like you don't know a single thing about this," the person added.
"You broke the deal," his voice passed, "The janitor was the only one supposed to be killed."
"Some unplanned intervention happened. I had to," the person came with their defense.
"That doesn't matter! You broke the deal!" said the male, firmly. His grip on his phone became more and more vice-like.
"So what? A broken deal? A dead person? A safe Raine Aksenov?" the voice snickered- therefore, sending chills to the disturbed man. "The latter was the only one important to you, right?"
"Oh dear..." he begged and wiped the forming tears on the side of his eyes, "I can't help this guilt, free me from this please..."
The mistake comes first, Regrets comes last- this was certainly true in parallel with his situation.
"I can't... I have something you don't want me to expose, right?" the voice threatened, "If I ever get captured by the authorities, you'll be an accomplice" -which made the male throw his phone on the ground.
If he controlled himself more, none of this would be a problem in his mediocre world. He loved it that way, but unfortunately for him, this was the signal of his life shifting from normal to hyperdrive.
This day started with the chirping of birds and it will end with the chirping of the crickets- which he admired every night he'll pass this garden, but it's gone. Both the crickets and the birds came along with the evaporation of this once glorious paradise.
He picked up his fallen phone and ended the call. Removing his glasses, he sighed and walked towards his office. The male cannot hinder his hearing from picking up chilling noises as every step he took, became faster and faster.
He opened the door with one twist and push, "What happened here?!" the man exclaimed and was immediately welcomed by his student, close to stripping his top shirt.
"Oh hello, pretty boy~ Are you free tonight? Cuz I'mma still buys your ass," Klavier clung to him and inhaled the scent on his neck before he pushed the boy away, making sure that the boy landed on the couch.
'The only scaring thing about that is the grammatical error. Indeed, he has to work on the boy's vocabulary,' he thought.
Snickering at the table, there he found his older brother. He had the same shade of hair, his face was much mature with facial hair growing all over it.
"Aww... he was about to brag his six-pack to me!" the 30-year-old inspector pouted before laughing hysterically.
Their age gap is not that far if calculated but his brother's lack of hygienic practice and addiction to alcoholic beverages made him look older than he should appear. With these mature features, comes his exceptional opposite quality.
Easton Broshe, the infamously famous inspector, is known for giving free beer to the people he questions. Surprisingly, the illegally accepted method of this man works all the time without any slip and hazard. They could have used some lie detectors, but he believed professional killers and psychopaths have certain abilities to reduce their heartbeat and go through the lie detector without the machine detecting some irregularities. He now was recognized as the inspector who has the most number of solved cases in Paris.
"What the hell happened here, Mr. Easton?" the panicked man looked around for the familiar blonde weaves. "Where's Racquel?"
His brother pointed to the door opposite him, "In the restroom, vomiting..."
Racquel made her entrance by showing off her cascaded unbuttoned uniform.
The blonde as bubbly as she can get jumped to attack her adviser, "I'm sick of being beautiful. Please give me redemption, Edward Broshe!"
In an attempt to turn on the handsome teacher, she pushed her breast against his chest and tried shooting his face with small kisses. To no avail, the male was taller and stronger than her; she stood no chance to a battle with him.
"Please break me and make me dirty!" she squealed one last time before he pushed her down beside the snoring grey-haired teen.
Edward turned to his older brother and growled, "What did you do?!"
Pissed by his brother's lack of responsibility and his childlike ignorance, he snatched the bottle he was currently shoving in his mouth before dropping it inside the trashcan on his brother's sight.
"Come on, little bro, you're always so serious-" Easton exclaimed like a 6-year-old, his gruff voice was not very convincing, "I just gave them a little booze to make them spill the truth."
"Sir Broshe. I feel so hot," Klavier, who was now exhibiting his well-built structure, muttered before closing his eyes.
"Ugh! I have to touch someone..." Racquel reached for her adviser's arm. "Edward Broshe come one let me tag you!" -but failed, instead she fell on Klavier's chest.
"A booze or Viagra?" Edward asked and crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.
"No. No. Just a little beer!" Waving his hands up like a mad man, Easton proved his younger brother wrong by giving him the receipts from a local convenience store.
Edward examined the receipt and widened his eyes when he saw the 10 packs of condoms listed on the piece of paper. Dumping it on the trash can again, he had no intentions to ask his brother about those.
"The boy drank quite a lot, but the girl drank two glasses only," the older brother declared and slumped his long legs on top of the desk, not caring if things fall over.
Without control over his brother, Edward sat on the couch beside the two snoring teens and asking, "Let me guess. You drank with them while the interrogation is in progress?"
Easton rejoiced, "Hell yeah. But I wrote all of their responses. Clearly. No more. No less!"- before tossing his brother the standard sized red notebook.
At a very young age, he was bad at catching things so, Edward did not bother to move a muscle and let the notebook lay flat on the ground beneath him. Before picking up the notebook, he sent his brother a look of hopelessness.
Easton laughed at his brother's face, "Don't look at me like that! I had to convince them that no drugs were inside the beer!"
"Easton, must you!" Edward exclaimed, "How am I suppose to tell their parents about this?!"
"Age of 18? HAH! They'll be fine..." the older male reassured.
Edward had to think of something to take care of these two so he took out his phone and dialed a number.
Staring at his brother's professional stature, he smiled before asking, "Hey! the kid who left earlier-" he paused for a moment to think of that one incident, "That one Heinz kid looks like the spitting image of that devious kid who stabbed a teacher a long time ago. When was it 19- 1987?"
"Excuse me for a sec..." Edward turned around and proceeded to talk with someone.
After he called, a tall young man with luscious brown hair, cascaded all over his shoulder entered, carrying an electric guitar in his arms.
They talked for minutes that the older man didn't listen because it was dull of a conversation for him. His brother escorted him to a room and locked the door.
Easton looked around the room and the interior was more boring and bleak. It was overly modern with only black and white covering the walls that he felt like being in an 1800's photo.
But something caught his eyes, a very beautiful and functioning-
"You're mine!" he ran to the swivel chair.
Before his younger brother could even sit at the swivel chair on the other side of the room, he called 'dibs' and played with the fun chair like a child on a carousel ride. Shaking his head in disappointment, Edward made his brother stop spinning the poor chair.
Easton stopped and put his head against the cold glass cover top on the wooden table."So about the kid awhile ago..."
Edward sighed and finally entertained his question, "That child was HIS child!"
The moment the older brother heard him, his head shot up and his grin was wider, "Woah, I met the product of a real Heinz and I did not bother to get his autograph!"
With an uninterested expression, Edward said to his brother, "Frère Easton. Let's be professional."
"Drop the brother already. We're both adults not little kids playing in the sandbox anymore," the older brother reminded and compose a more inspector-like posture and aura.
At last, here's the Easton who solved countless crime questions and mysteries, ready to make a progress.
"Alright Inspector Easton Broshe," started Edward, "Let's start!"