"Who?"
Connel had a certain snarkiness in his lethargic voice, as he didn't even bother opening his eyes or rising from his bed before answering his phone. His room was still dim even as the time was getting close to 10 AM.
From the receiver of his high-end phone, a male voice came through, showing some concern:
"Connel, it's me, Khan. Are you okay? You didn't come to the gathering yesterday."
Whether the concern was sincere or not, only the parties involved would know, but that didn't take away the need to be courteous. Nonetheless, while Connel swallowed his frustration at being disturbed, he couldn't stymie his rage at the humiliating decision he made last night, the flames of hatred rising once again even as his memory was jolted from those words. His voice turned a little biting, his eyelids rising to create a slit and his brows furrowing:
"What is it, Khan?"
The owner of the voice on the other side seemed to recoil:
