"Ouch!"
Elio collided with someone, making her stumble back and drop her opened bag.
"Watch where you're going."
A familiar face came into view.
"You–"
The striking blue eyes in front of her were wide. Hints of dread and shock bled through his irises. The evil incarnate who threatened her earlier that day was back.
Although, he wasn't like that.
Not anymore.
The blue-eyed man was once again frantic. Breath hitching, a start of what would be another hyperventilate. A looming panic attack.
Elio wasn't sure how to react.
He decided that for her. By grabbing her hand and pulling her along. She had to match his hurried, long strides if she didn't want to be dragged around like a bag of potatoes.
"Wait, what are you–"
His grip on her was bruising. She'd feel it tomorrow.
"Hey! Let me go!"
The blue-eyed man hastily opened the door. The small room was dark, but smelled like coffee and hot dogs. He slammed the door shut and let her go. Pacing on the breakroom's floor with both hands on his head.
He groaned. Perhaps a headache, but she didn't want to care about him.
Yet, "Are you okay?" Elio asked in a small voice.
He ignored her again. Steps faltered and he stood still for a moment, then his knees gave up.
His every inhalation and exhalation, she could hear it clearly. If the room had enough light, she'd see sweats on his forehead. But, as it was, "That's right, take a deep breath."
The blue-eyed man didn't seem to hear her.
"You're good. Keep doing that," she continued, thinking, 'What am I doing here? He's clearly an asshole who needs help but is too full of himself and rude. I shouldn't help him again.'
He lifted his face, showing her those darkened blue eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Elio was puzzled. "Are you fine now?"
"Get lost!" he was back to being the evil incarnate.
"You were the one who dragged me here," she pointed out. "After what you did to me, why would I let myself near you?"
He pushed her again, making Elio fall on her butt.
"Can't you be more violent?"
"Gladly."
"It was sarcasm!"
"Don't come in my sight ever again."
"Hey!" Elio shouted as he was about to exit. "You're the one who dragged me here, did you already forget about that?"
He was silent, frozen on his track.
"Don't tell me you have symptoms of early dementia."
"What did you just say?"
"Oh, of course you have hearing problems too. Great."
The blue-eyed man turned around and glared at her. "Shut your mouth."
"Or what?"
It wasn't the first time Elio had a verbal fight with someone – she usually has it with her roommate, but that was beside the point.
Elio definitely could take him. Unless it gets physical.
The blue-eyed man stalked closer, slowly. She forced herself to not take a step back, rendering them to be face to face, only a mere twenty centimeters between them.
"Three days," he said in a low voice, "I can do anything I want to you in three days from now."
She gulped, seeing something dark in his eyes. Shivering.
He was gone in an instant, once again leaving her behind. This time, she got more questions than before. But only one burning question she wanted to ask.
"Why is he so different after his panic attack subsided?"
No one answered. She was alone in the dark breakroom.
"Ugh," Elio had to get up and take a shower.
Grabbing her shoulder bag, Elio fixed her clothes as best as she could. It was such a regret to not bring her jacket or some spare clothes. The front of her shirt was still colored red from the artificial blood that blue-eyed menace dumped on her.
At least, people didn't ask about it when she walked along the studio lot. It must be a normal occurrence.
Just last month, Nevertale produced a post-apocalypse series that involved a rag-tag team of country old-ladies and war veterans. Media said it was in post-production and said it will be aired this winter.
From the glimpse during shooting, it would contain blood and gore. Her favourite genre, if she was in the mood – as in feeling murderously irritated about something in her life.
It was when Elio got on the train and fished her phone out of her bag that she noticed something was missing.
"Where's my journal?"
_________________
Storming off from the dark breakroom, Ender fixed his suit jacket and walked briskly to the elevator. He had to get away now.
Lara Price was here.
Getting inside his sleek, black Porsche Tycan, Ender started the ignition, pulling out of the parking lot beside Neveratle's production office building.
Lara Price – Raven's dear ex-girlfriend was here.
Fuck.
He couldn't let Raven see her again. It was bad enough that he freaked out earlier today only after hearing about her. Ender knew coming back here would only worsen Raven's condition.
Why couldn't his father just let him abroad?
Oh, right. Apparently, it was the time he should get to know about their family business.
Ender clicked his tongue when he drove past the iconic water tower of Nevertale Entertainment Inc. As if he wanted it in the first place.
It was all because of his grandfather's urging that he returned here. He couldn't care less about his father, but his grandfather – now, he was something else.
Frederick Coldwell was the only one who cared enough about him. So, he would do anything for the old man. Even if the chance of meeting Lara was high.
He just didn't think they met on his first day here.
Slamming his hand on the driving wheel, Ender let out an angry scream.
Something was begging him for attention. Ender let out a huff and wondered why he ended up in a room with that girl again.
"Elio Greys," he tested the name of the girl Raven decided – in his panic state – to drag along and hide.
He'll be damned if Raven thought that the blackmailing girl was helping him.
She wasn't.