Chapter 5 How could someone be so fake?

• 'What should I do now?'
• I felt like pulling my hair because of how frustrated I was then, as I paced in my room back and forth barefoot.
• 3:45 am, it was. And still, I was awake. There was no one to blame but me. I shouldn't have come out of the locker room without my makeup last night. How could I be so careless and come to my apartment directly instead of heading to the police station?
• Taking a shaky breath, I strode towards the window to the other side of my foldable study table. I had to leave it open as I was scared to lean forward and pull down the shutter. What if someone had been waiting for me in the dark on the road before this apartment complex? That strange busmate's girlfriend terrified me to the core more than my grandpa did. But who was she? How did she know my name? No matter how hard I tried to look for a clue in my memory if I had seen her before, I left with sheer disappointment.
• I took two steps backward, not having enough bravery in me. Wasn't my grandfather's cruelty towards me enough?
• How about giving a call to the officers?
• My subconscious voiced a question that hadn't come to my mind the whole time. Though I regret not changing the route after running out of the bar from the back door, I still didn't consider letting my friend or lawyer know about my day after coming home. Stressing them would be the last thing I want now. But I could always call the people known as incredible in this field.
• Without a second thought, I picked up my phone from the bed and took my chair. My mood also lightened up, finding the right way to relieve my stress. I would more likely do what they would suggest to me. Because no matter how trained I was, I couldn't beat everyone. No one chased me with the same intention. I could only hope I wasn't in a knee-deep mess at that crucial point in my life.
• "I hope I didn't wake you up, did I, sir?" My tone held an apology, but I wasn't ashamed to call the agent at the witching hour.
• The man to the other side laughed lightly, "Oh, no, Bonita. I am on duty. Tell me. Is everything all right there with you?"
• "I believe someone has followed me to my apartment, and I wasn't in disguise when I fled from my workplace."
• The line fell to silence. My breath caught in my throat, and I got goosebumps on my skin. Terrified, I sunk into my bed, gripping my phone hard. Then I heard a light commotion, and the officer's voice sounded tight, "Hold on. Let me put the call to the speaker."
• A lady officer must have taken the phone from his hand, as I was sure they climbed into their Jeep. "Our team is already checking all the footage from that bar to your home. We will inspect the area for you. Now, tell us everything without missing any details, Emily."
• My eyes welled up. I knew I wouldn't regret asking for help from them. In a wavering tone, I said, "Thank you, ma'am." Cheryl wouldn't lose her family again. I had to be sure I would be safe in that city for a couple of days, which had me take out my file from my bag to check the contract I had to sign with the club. Taking a long shaky breath, I prepared myself and told them everything that had happened to me since the day I ran into that strange man. I also let them know about my grandfather and his plans.
• "Have you ever seen that man before. . .who believes you have been stalking him?"
• "No, I don't." I swallowed hard when a thought struck my mind. "What if his girlfriend is?"
• "You mean some overly obsessed stalker? That's possible, but that can't be as simple as it may sound." The lady snorted, and the man also agreed with her. "Go to work in the morning, Bonita. You need to be there. I am sure you will see them there today. And don't be scared, okay? One of us will be there with you for the whole day. About your coach. . .is he coming here to talk to Mr. Iglesias?"
• "He is, but I can't contact him. You told me last time not to pick up anyone's call with whoever I am associated with, some sort."
• "I have his contact on the chat box with your lawyer. She shared it with me a few days ago. I know you don't want your friend to know this, but I won't hide it from Mrs. Winchester. Let us deal with your grandpa, and you take some rest before leaving for work."
• Oh, lord. I don't want to go to work. The boyfriend-girlfriend is the couple made in hell. The last thing I want is to see their faces.
• I closed my eyes and felt like crying out in frustration. But the lady agent was hell-bent on making her point clear. "You have to be there and face them. And if you feel threatened, take immediate action. We will back you up before getting you out of this country."
• I heaved a breath, knowing I was running at a loss. This lady sounded so much like my mom that it made me emotional. But it put my mind at ease, and I fell asleep thinking about her. Not more than three hours, though. Yet I felt refreshed like never before.
• Why wouldn't I?
• My contract period with that bar was over, and my manager was probably working on the renewal. I could easily resign. I would wait if my coach convinced grandpa to sign the papers and get information from him about my dad. If they failed, I would move to Seattle and find a good job or sign that two-year contract I was previously offered to become their contracted swimming athlete in Belgium. It would be hard for me not to be with my sister, but I had to do that to get her guardianship from Helenite's parents after two years.
• ~
• Soon the day ended, and nothing terrifying happened there, still. No one talked about the commotion I, err- that superstar, caused last night either. How is that possible anyway? A troop of men chased me in the streets until they lost sight of me. I knew that area way better than them, so it was next to impossible for them to look for me, yet someone followed me who wasn't one among them.
• I felt my heart in my throat when I got the manager's text to come to the owner's office. It was the moment I was about to leave for home. What kind of disaster was waiting for me? Holding my breath, I again took the elevator. I clutched the strap of my backpack, where I stuffed everything I had in my locker. For precaution, of course. But again, there wasn't anything original but fake notes from my first year of Culinary School. My hoodies, sweatsuits, and shoes were costly in a middle-class way. If I had to run, I would take everything I bought with my hard-earned money during my stay here, which I had once but didn't know its value back then.
• This time, the men in black didn't check me or ask me to leave my backpack behind. My heart was beating faster to recognize their faces. They were the same people who chased me last night, which meant their boss had to be in the owner's office.
• Oh, lord. My throat went dry in fear. Raising my hand, I knocked on the door. The strap of my backpack felt dumped because of my sweaty palms. I couldn't even give a call to the officers. That was not the number I was allowed to use to call them.
• It's okay, Emily. You can do it. There is nothing to be afraid of, you believe me.
• Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, and my heart dropped in fear, hearing the clicking sound of the door, followed by, "Come in,"
• I pushed the door lightly and stepped in with my head down. Turning around, I ran my gaze at the people in that office and breathed in relief inwardly, seeing my colleagues there, too, but there was also that strange couple sitting side by side and hand in hand.
• I could see the admiration the ladies held for them in their eyes. As if they were some king and queen. But I can't blame them, though. When they dressed like one and the woman had a mild look on her face, the man had a gentle yet firm look in his eyes.
• How could someone be so fake in one lifetime?
• "Elias. . . are you?"
• My breath caught in my throat when that man took my name, finding my eyes on his woman stayed a bit longer than they should. I shifted my gaze at him and wasn't surprised his green orbs held suppressed anger and displeasure that he wanted to vent but couldn't.
• "It would be me, sir." I sounded more neutral than I expected I would. Holding his gaze, I asked, "Is there any problem, if you don't mind me asking?"
• His eyes slightly darkened at the tone I used. Maybe it was the words that angered him or something. And if he had me fired now by using his influence and power just because of what I said, I would gladly oblige. I had no plan to stay in this city anyway.
• "Oh, Elias, you don't need to be so defensive for no reason." The manager came to my side, laughing, and I knew he wanted to cover up the issue like he usually had done before for me. Elbowing me to my waist, he said to the superstar apologetically, "Bash and Ms. Madeline, please don't mind this young man's words. Elias hasn't been in a mood recently because of the pressure from his family."
• "Family pressure?"
• I stiffened when Madeline looked at me with worried eyes before shifting her gaze back to her man. "Does it mean he can't come with us to Los Angeles? Seb, we don't have much time left on our hands. How could we find planners in this short period?"