Rodney closed his eyes, forcing himself to fall asleep. However, his consciousness was flying somewhere. His mind was entirely bothered by the girl he encountered these passing days, whose name he didn't know until now.
'And why didn't I ask what her name was?' Rodney mumbled to himself.
'Isn't you get annoyed if they were close to you, the reason you aren't interested in anyone and caring less to get to know them?' grumbled his other-self.
Almost the entire of his life, he cares less about other people. Although it improved when he entered the Marines. He was very frustrated deep inside at the moment, and it annoys him to have this feeling when he has still hated any girls. Their shriek and squeal give him a headache, especially their fake cry and pretend fragileness.
"Argh!" Rodney groaned and sat up on the bed. He looked outside the floor-ceiling window, which he kept the curtain open for him to gaze out at the night sky when the full moon was shining brightly upon him.
Rodney grumpily got off the bed, walked toward the closet, then grabbed a T-shirt and jeans and wore them.
*
Zaijan had just finished taking his shower. After putting on some comfortable white t-shirt and sweatpants, he got out of his bedroom; exactly the main door swallowed Rodney.
"Where is he going?" Zaijan asked his assistant, who's pulling an all-nighter, to finish the documents he needed for tomorrow's meeting.
"I was also surprised, President Lopez," Harold replied. Putting down the documents in his hand, he added, "He just walked out of his bedroom without saying a word. Maybe he's going out again."
"That's strange," Zaijan wondered. It surprised him because Rodney always bid him goodbye and told him where he was going.
Shrugging off his shoulder, Zaijan headed back to his room. After ten minutes, Harold looked up when he felt his boss' presence coming out of the bedroom once again.
"Are you also going out, President?" asked Harold. His eyes lowered to the floor. This time, his boss is wearing shoes.
"I'll go for a quick run," Zaijan replied with no emotion registered on his face.
"Should I call the bod…" Harold couldn't finish his words when his boss raised a hand.
"I already notified them." Zaijan quickly interrupted his assistant.
Harold nodded and could only purse his lips while staring at his boss' back, disappearing at the door.
Outside, Mike and Guy are already waiting. They were Zaijan's closest bodyguards, the ones who often accompanied him on his international trips.
He could not sleep and felt restless after catching a familiar scent from Rodney's shirt.
Zaijan jogged around the Glass Castle Garden. Following two meters behind him are his bodyguards.
After running endlessly for half an hour, he finally stopped, catching breaths as he panted vigorously.
He sat down on the bench after his breath was stable and his heartbeat settled down. Zaijan looked up at the full moon, appreciating its beauty when memories flooded his head and tears started forming in the corner of his eyes.
Zaijan clenched his palms into fists, resting on his legs every time he remembered the pain in her eyes.
*
Meanwhile, on the eight floors…
Fraine frowned when she could hear someone pressing the doorbell in her hotel suite for the third time. She reaches her nose and scratches it annoyingly.
"And who's the idiot interrupting my sleep?"
Fraine forced herself to get up. She looked for her bag, but she could not remember where she had placed it. Then, she recalled that the man who helped her earlier put them on the sofa.
She looked around for a clock.
When she finally found it, the time was still eleven o'clock. Fraine got off her bed, grabbed the hotel robe, and put it on. She frowned that her sleep was interrupted. It's been three hours since she dozed off.
Fraine strode toward the door. When she was near, she could hear voices. It made her wonder when she expected no one to visit her as the only people who knew she was in The Peninsula Hotel were Chairman Dale, his grandson Director Christian Dale, and the assistant, Mr. Lee.
Also, her boss was in Sasha City, so who could it be?
Fraine tiptoed to look at the peephole. Her mouth dropped open after she recognized the guy.
She can't decide whether to open the door or pretend she is sleeping deeply, so she is not waking up. Fraine embraced herself and then headed back to her bed when a phone rang, and the caller's tone was unfamiliar.
Fraine knitted her brows as the noise was from her bag. She turned around and strode toward the coffee table, and grabbed her purse.
"Who's phone is this?" Fraine creases her forehead with extreme bewilderment about how the phone went to her bag.
She hesitated to answer but thought that maybe the caller was the owner of this phone, then she could give it back.
Fraine was about to answer it when the call ended. She plans to call back when the phone rings again.
She hurriedly swiped the green button before she missed the call.
"Hello?"
Fraine's voice was hoarse when she answered. But it made her wonder when the person from the end of the call breathed with relief.
Her confusion was answered when the caller finally spoke up.
"I'm glad you are still alive!"
Fraine was shocked. The owner of this voice is the person outside. But this phone is not hers. Does the guy outside even know who he talks to?
"This phone is not mine," said Fraine.
"I know."
Fraine has rendered speechless. She mumbled, 'What he meant he knew?'
She was irritated and had no plan to open the door or waste her time, but the guy outside kept pressing the doorbell.
"Okay! Stop messing up the doorbell! I'm going to open the door now!"
Fraine wanted to fret. She was so aggravated because she felt like the person outside was her boyfriend, who tried to coax her, and she was the girlfriend who wanted to ignore him.
'Why am I even thinking about this crazy thing? And why is this guy so persistent? What a bother!'
Fraine stomps her feet while walking back towards the door and opens it. She glared at the guy and asked him coldly.
"What is the meaning of this?"