INM 2 Part 6

“Brian…”

“Either way, I will protect you. This is a decision. Since the hours will be longer, the amount you pay me will change slightly, so I’ll send the contract through the office in two or three days.”

“Wait, what…”

“I’ll give you a friend discount to make it as cheap as possible. If that’s still difficult, we can discuss it.”

“Well, money is not an issue. In fact, please charge the regular rate.”

“Got it. So, was there anything else out of the ordinary today?”

The moment I was asked, Kasim’s suggestion crossed my mind.

“Nothing happened.”

If we were in a bright place, Brian might have noticed my troubled feelings. But luckily it was a dark car, so he didn’t seem to notice anything when he started the engine.

Looking at my childhood friend’s face from the side, who had completely switched on his detective mode, I suddenly had a bad feeling.

“Well, let’s just go home and have a drink. Now, what should I buy?”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to that. But before we drink, let’s hear all about these four college students.”

“No way! Not again!”

Ignoring my plaintive voice, the Terminator sitting next to me stepped on the gas.

When I woke up, Brian had already left for work.

I noticed a note on the kitchen table. In familiar, neat handwriting, it said that he had borrowed the key to lock the door and had put the key in the mailbox.

“He’s early today…”

I mumbled to the crumpled piece of paper and yawned as I opened the trash can lid… After hesitating, I closed the lid and placed the note on my desk.

Even though I had just woken up, my head wasn’t clear at all.

It’s always like that the morning after, I can’t sort out my emotions and information before going to bed. Different words would pop into my head one after the other, messing up my brain and making it heavy.

Wondering what I could do with my scattered thoughts, I opened my email software, but soon gave up on the task of simply displaying the message screen and picked up my half-drunk coffee and French press. Then I sank into the sofa and stared blankly at the small chandelier.

Drink spiking?

I sighed at the word that suddenly popped into my head.

I had seen these phrases before in dramas and news programs. Things like, “Don’t leave your drink unattended” or “Refuse drinks offered by strangers”. I had a vague idea of what to do. But I had never been careful in my life, and of course I had never intentionally emptied my glass before leaving my seat.

To be honest, I still wasn’t completely convinced that someone had intentionally caused my memory loss. But after one night, I finally began to realize that something was strange. It felt terrible. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but for some reason I could only think of words that made fun of my stupidity.

I awkwardly swallowed my coffee and checked my schedule on the sofa. As expected, it seemed I could force myself to take a day off without inconveniencing anyone… Okay, Lucas. Today is your day off. If I work a little overtime somewhere, I can manage to design that chair Kirk asked for.

After telling myself that, I immediately turned off my desktop and cheerfully picked up the cleaning supplies. I dusted the chandelier, the shelves, and the desk in order, wiping them down with alcohol and citrus scents that dissipated as soon as I smelled them. I carefully removed the dirt and dust that had accumulated in the small spaces, polished the faucets and door knobs with a metal-specific cloth, and mopped the floor.

It only took about half an hour. Damn, I should clean more often.

Helplessly, I began looking through the shelves and storage areas, carefully examining my belongings. It was my grandmother who had advised me, during the time I was struggling to love myself, to “only keep things in your room that you really love”… Realizing that my hands had stopped, I shook my head slightly. I forced down the pain that was tightening in my chest and focused my attention on the contents of the shelf in front of me.

When I finally finished that task, I gave up and changed into a shirt and jeans, took an old magazine as a trophy, and left the room. I wanted to check on a cafe where I had previously done an interior design project while I was out shopping for groceries.

As I was walking out the door, minding the frizz on the back of my head, Megan called out to me.

“Good morning, Luke. Nice hair.”

“Thanks,”

I replied grumpily, and Megan put a perfect smile on her face and slowly walked out from behind the reception desk.

Megan sighed theatrically as I nervously wondered if I had done something wrong. 

“Mail is usually delivered at a certain time, right?” 

I blinked at the sudden and awkward change of subject. 

“Uh, yeah…?” 

“The mailbox always starts rattling at the same time, so I’ve memorized the delivery time.” 

With a broad smile, Megan walked elegantly toward me. She continued to pull me toward the mailbox behind the entrance. 

“Luke, I think there’s a letter in your mailbox that was put there directly by the sender.” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

“As the concierge, I apologize if I’m out of line, but I have a bad feeling about this. You should check it immediately. If you want to know when it was sent, come and ask. Okay?”

She spoke quickly and then turned back to the reception. I watched her with wide eyes, then cautiously peeked into the mailbox. There I found a letter with no postmark, and I finally understood what she meant. 

The plain, light blue stationery had no address or return address, just my name. The simple, ordinary stationery looked rather menacing, thanks to Megan. After some hesitation, I picked up the letter and returned to the spotless office. As soon as I opened the letter, I couldn’t help but scream. 

“What is this, what is this, what is this, scary, scary, scary!” 

I threw the letter down and jumped back. It was, well, a letter filled with someone’s intense feelings for me. By “feelings” I mean probably murderous intent. The letter was filled with direct phrases like “kill” and “I wish for your death”, leaving no room for doubt. The writer’s feelings were so intense that the pressure of the pen had punctured the paper in places. 

“I’m scared, I’m scared, I’m so scared, Grandma…”

Completely frightened, I fled to the back bedroom. I slammed the door and finally took a deep breath.

Two large windows. Heavy royal blue and gold thread curtains, and all the furniture was antique with ornate decorations. It was a solemn and traditional interior, the exact opposite of my bright and unique office. A quiet and harmonious sanctuary.

Cradling a pillow I had placed on the bed, I collapsed.

“What the hell was that…”

My voice was as weak as a wilted french fry, even to my own ears.

I decided to just stay cooped up in my room, but I couldn’t stand the thought of that mass of malice existing in my office, so I finally got up. 

I put my hand on the doorknob and suddenly noticed Maty hanging by my bedside. It was one of the evil eye amulets I had received from my Greek grandmother when I was a child. 

Without thinking, I grabbed it and opened the door. The next moment, a zombie that had risen from the letter attacked me!

Of course, nothing like that happened. The seven scattered pieces of paper just fluttered lightly in the breeze.

Holding Maty in my arms, I walked carefully through the seven shadows. I don’t mind, but aren’t seven a little too many? Didn’t they get bored while writing? Or the excited feelings for me did not calm down at all? 

I took a small box from the study room, just the right size for the letter, and carefully picked it up with my fingertips and placed it inside. Then I tossed Maty on top and quickly closed the lid.

“Okay, seal complete.”

I felt a tingling sensation in my fingertips. I suddenly remembered that my sense of touch was particularly acute. After carefully tying up the box and throwing it in the back of the study room, I quickly washed my hands. I boiled water on the stove, warmed a pot and a cup, and made tea with my favorite tea leaves. I also placed some Nussa chocolates with dried strawberries on a small plate, placed the tea set on a tray, and went out onto the veranda.

Basking in the sunlight, I popped a chocolate into my mouth and savored it with the tea. Finally feeling at ease, I put my head in my hands and sighed deeply.

“No way…”

The words Brian had said yesterday suddenly seemed real. I’ve had my heart stabbed by the malice of unseen enemies countless times in my life, but this letter made me feel a more immediate sense of danger. As much as it hurt, Brian was right. The words “I’ll protect you”, which I had found exaggerated and embarrassing yesterday, suddenly seemed reassuring.

I returned to my desk to call Brian, but stopped at the two notes left there. One was the note that Brian had left this morning. The other was Kasim’s contact information.

“I’ll protect you.”

“Can you help me?”

The two voices played simultaneously, and I shook my head frantically. Stop it. All I want is to live peacefully, working in this perfect room. Sometimes drinking with my friends in this beautiful harmonious world.

I don’t need to know why I’m being targeted to continue this perfect life. And what happened to Alan has nothing to do with my future.

What the hell happened in Alan’s life?

I picked up my phone and punched in the number. I counted the ringing in my ear. One, two, three.

“Hello?”

“This is Lucas. Are you free right now?” 

“Yes, yes, of course.”

The young man on the other end of the phone replied in surprise. 

“I want to confirm something. Why do you want to know about Alan? Is it for Alan’s sake?”

“Why… As I explained yesterday, I don’t want to have any more regrets. If you ask if it’s for Alan’s sake, I don’t think so. No matter how I try to explain it, this is just for my own satisfaction.”

I ruffled my hair at Kasim’s clear voice.

“All right. I’ll help you.”

“Potter…!”

“But I’m only helping out for my own purposes. And don’t call me by my family name again, okay?”

The young man, who had been speechless for a moment, finally replied as he exhaled.

“Of course, Luke. Thank you so much.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

I said briefly and ended the call. In the silent room, only the indescribable sound of the air conditioner stimulated my eardrums.

As I reflexively turned off the air conditioning, I shivered with the feeling that I had made an irreversible, and troublesome decision.

*In Australia, there is no penalty for driving with a blood alcohol level below 0.05.