October 14. 2024
On her way home, Alessia thought of buying another burner phone to call the police department to tell them how stupid they are, but that would be a waste of both money and energy. It might not have been successful, however, she still did her part, and Petro won't be suspecting her new attitude towards her job yet since she's supposed to be relaxing.
She sits alone, on a barstool around the bar separating her kitchen from the living room. "Katya still isn't calling..." She thinks aloud, stretching an arm across the smooth surface and resting her head on her bicep.
With her free hand, she turns her phone on and unlocks it. Straight to her recent calls she goes, where twenty-two outgoing calls are unanswered. She taps the number and it dials...
...dials...
...and dials...
"You've reached the voicemail box of—" She hangs up, emitting a long, dragged sigh.
Nothing is going the way she wants it to. It isn't even that complex. I gave enough testimonies to have him behind bars! Is what she thinks, tutting. With his connections, he wouldn't even have a boring life in prison! Yet, these people sent two naïve investigators days too early... And, she bets that they merely glanced around, trying to get comfortable with the man. Corruption runs deeper than imaginable.
Should she just disappear? She wanted to turn herself in after Petro, Nobosklav and their organization went under, but with how things are going now, she's having second thoughts. Should she just make herself vanish without a trace like Katya? Change her face and identity? Move to another country and start over?
Well, she is still young. Starting over isn't drastic.
...what to do, what to do...?
"I took your heart. I did things to you only lovers would do in the dark. Made you a god..." Alessia groans, lifting the phone to her face again reluctantly. "Pre-spokes and pre-shows would tell me what i did wrong," she squints at the unknown number, "but hey, you made a n*gg* flip. What do I say, to make me exist...?"
Who the fuck is this? (Ooh~)
"Stranger—!"
"Hello?" She answers after staring at the caller's ID like it deserves to be stabbed repeatedly with a cleaver.
"Hey, it's Phillípe, I need to ask you something."
Alessia is dumbstruck. How did he—no, wait... Is it normal to just...? What the fuck? She is totally struck dumb. However, she collects herself. His voice is hurried, so maybe he wasn't thinking normally.
"Is it personal?" She quips, rolling her eyes as she slides off the stool, heading up to her bedroom.
The line goes quiet and that's all the answer she needs.
Eventually, he huffs, "I really don't know, but I'm sorry if it's personal. It's just... I... You know I like you—that's not the point... I just notice random things about you and the night we hung out, I noticed something..."
Alessia raises an eyebrow. Well, he did say he wants to be a cop. This isn't creepy at all...
"A—Are you...?" He huffs again, having trouble vocalizing his thoughts to her. "This is ridiculous."
"If you're scared of my answer then don't ask." She says casually, unconsciously stopping halfway up the stairs.
She slips into her comfort zone with the phone to her ear, smiling slightly and half expecting him to hit the target right on its mark.
He breathes, "Are you the Phantom?"
And she doesn't miss a beat, responding monotonously, "What do you think?"
"I don't know." He murmurs, "I can only recall two reasons why I'm asking, but two doesn't seem enough because I know nothing about you. Still, two is enough to catch a criminal..."
A criminal... She chuckles, "I see you're determined to get your hands on the Phantom."
"Yes...?"
"Come over."
He's quiet for a moment.
"Pardon?"
"I said," Alessia starts up the stairs again as new ideas sprout inside her young and working brain, "come over."