Chapter 3: A Shower, Phone Calls And Morning Breakfast (2)

Victor squinted at the phone screen with his brow furrowed, feeling the annoyance building with each passing second before he instinctively pinched both sides of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Seriously?" he blurted out, his voice dripping with annoyance. He hated random calls, especially ones that came on his personal number. He had a strict policy – his private number was a privilege, not a party favor especially after that horrible incident.

"Who in the world has the balls to do it…" he muttered, his voice beginning rising in frustration. He then took a seat on the edge of his bed while rubbing his temple, trying to calm down his emotions.

He reminded everyone he knew – his friends, his family, even the pizza place down the street with almost religious zeal, that they needed to ask him first before casually handing it out.

Glancing at his phone screen, he quietly debated whether he should answer the call or not, especially the traitorous part of him becoming really curious about who could be on the other end causing him to close his eyes and become silent, thinking of his next move.

After a moment, A sudden wave of realization washed over Victor with his eyes snapped wide open. What if this wasn't some aftermath of some idiot giving away his private number? What if it came from what he despised so much - scammers?

"How the hell did my private number become public info?" He muttered, recalling an old phone call he got from his other number.

In his mind, he could practically hear the annoying thick accent voice again word-by-word, "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas!" followed by a long, rambling spiel about timeshares and hidden fees. 

While his mind was trying to forget that displeasing experience, he noticed that the call stopped and a simple conclusion soon came to his mind.

"Let's just ignore it," he muttered, casually tossing his phone back into the bed. Ignoring the itch of curiosity that still remained strong in him, Victor made his way to his closet, and reaching his dresser, he flung open the drawer dedicated to his underwear. 

"Should I wear red today? No, let's just stick with black for today," he muttered, rummaging through the various colors of fabric. Finally, he pulled out a pair of brand-new black ones that he bought a couple of days ago and slipped them on with a sigh of relief.

After closing the underwear drawer, he flung open the wardrobe, surveying the neatly folded stacks of various pants. "Hmmm….what should I wear for today?"

"I guess I should go with this one," he mumbled, reaching in and pulling out a pair of neatly folded dark gray chinos. After flinging the dark gray chinos over his shoulder, Victor then turned his gaze to the column above and stared at the neatly folded stacks of t-shirts. "Red, gray, oh hey, there is a blue one hiding in the back."

"Nah, I'll go with gray for today," he muttered, reached in, and pulled out a soft gray t-shirt. He examined his outfit choices and a slow grin spread across his face. After happily closing the wardrobe, he went back to his bed and tossed the soft gray t-shirt onto it.

As he peeled off his damp towel, his phone buzzed once again. He glanced at it with his eyes narrow. "Who is it this time?"

After removing the dark gray chinos and slipping into them, he picked up his phone and saw the screen display the same unknown number. "Ugh, you gotta be kidding me."

Without thinking much, he then hovered His finger over the decline button before stopping midair when a thought suddenly occurred in his mind. What if this call wasn't from a scammer? What if it's actually important like someone is genuinely trying to call him?

"No, what am I thinking? This my private number," he muttered, shaking his head and slamming his finger down the decline button. "You could have just contacted me through my other number and if it is really important, a lot of people that I'm close with will message and call me."

Feeling satisfied from doing that, he tucked his phone securely into his pocket and decided to focus on more important things. Whatever was on the other end decided to call again, they can wait.

After picking up the soft gray t-shirt and slipping into it, he quickly shifted his attention to the damp towel sprawled on the floor and quickly went and picked it up with the dampness clinging unpleasantly to his fingers. 

"Ugh, gotta make some time to wash some of my towels," he mumbled, frowning a little after he took a small sniff of the towel when he noticed some smell from it.

With a light snort, he made his way to the towel rack and flung the towel up, the damp fabric unfurling with a soft slap and with a final glance around the room, he headed to the door and left the room.

In the hallway near the entrance, Victor noticed his phone was buzzing again and halted his steps on the spot. He pulled his phone out and a surprised look flickered across his face when he saw "Marco" across the display. 

"Huh, did something happen? Why is Marco calling me?" He muttered, looking confused as he didn't expect Marco to call him back when he usually would message him if he wanted to share something or just to have a talk. He swiped his finger across the screen, answering the call with a cautious, "Yo?"

"Hey, Victor," came Marco's voice, laced with a hint of annoyance. "Uh, just wanted to give you a heads up…"

"…Yeah? What's up?" Victor prompted, bracing himself for any inevitable chaos.

"Victor, dude, you won't believe this..." Marco's voice trailed off for a second before suddenly erupting in a frustrated yell. "Of course, asshole! I'll sue your ass for this."

A mix of curses can be heard from the other end causing Victor to furrow his brow, confusion etching across his face. "Woah there, what the hell is going on? Who are you screaming against there?"

"Ah, sorry dude," Marco said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Well…let's just say some idiot decided to run a red light and T-bone me on the way." 

Victor's eyes widened. "Wait, what? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Thankfully, no," Marco replied, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his near miss. "Just shaken up. The car, however, is a different story. Looks like it got totaled, except maybe the freaking bumper."

"Oh my god," Victor breathed. Relief washed over him, quickly followed by a surge of anger. "A drunk driver? Seriously? Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, well, apparently some people don't appreciate the concept of responsible drinking," Marco muttered darkly. "The cops are here now, dealing with the idiot."

Victor ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Okay, okay. So, what now? Do you need me to come get you?"

"Yeah, it is fine," Marco sighed. "The tow truck is taking care of the car, but I'm stuck here with the police dealing with the aftermath while waiting for a rental that I just ordered in the meantime. Man, this is going to be a nightmare."

"Victor felt a surge of worry and guilt. "Do you need me to come down there? I can help you deal with the cops and everything."

"Yeah, well, thanks for offering, buddy," Marco said sarcastically. "Except, you can't exactly help much in this situation right now, idiot. Look, the bottom line is that I'm going to be late. Maybe a couple of hours late. Just... stay put, alright?"

Victor winced at the edge in Mark's voice. "Yeah, no problem. Just take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything at all."

"Will do," Marco replied curtly. "Gotta go now. The police are calling me. See you later, dude."

"Alright, See you later, buddy," Victor said, ending the call with a click and stared blankly at his phone until the screen turned dark. 

Feeling dumbfounded, he ruffled his hand through his already messy hair, trying to slowly understand what just had happened, especially the words that Marco said, echoed in his head. "Except, you can't exactly help much in this situation right now, idiot.".

"What did he mean I can't help?" Victor muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He replayed the conversation in his head before a realization clicked in his head.

"Oh right, that's what he meant," he muttered, remembering the fact that he hadn't a really good relationship nor a really bad one with the police and from what he had just heard, it seemed that the situation had almost resolved already. But for him, he felt that there was that weird jab to him for being unable to do anything.

Despite that feeling, Victor lets out a sigh and decides to trust his friend with only one thought remaining in his head. "Let's just hope that Marco will finish his stuff quickly."

To Be Continued