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It was already past midnight when Phillip Brooks waltzed through the doors of his apartment. Once again he was greeted by deafening silence and as expected, his pet – Mark Calaway – was nowhere in sight. //Would it kill him to be here and greet me like a normal pet? I even dragged out my final shift so that he could get more time to come back here.// A soft sigh left Phil's lips as he collapsed almost instantly in his couch. The cushions provided a comforting embrace as he snuggled deeper into their soft clutches. //I may as well get some rest. He'll be here later anyways.//
The tenth sheep hadn't even been counted in Phillip's mind before the sound of the nearby phone ringing loudly pried him from his would-be deep slumber. //What? Why is it ringing?// He slowly stirred awake tearing his eyes open in annoyance as he glared at the phone sitting on the glass table ahead of him. It did a full three sixty as it knocked madly about on the table top. //Someone better be dying.// Upon recalling that Calaway was not in the apartment, Phil quickly took back the thought and answered the phone with haste.
"Hello?" His voice mumbled the word groggily.
"I heard you quit your job at that bar today."
//What?// A small frown craved into his head. "Huh?" Phil's blue eyes ran lazily over the phone screen only to have his gaze land on the word "Restricted". //Great. A prank caller. Just what I need.//Unhappy and scowling with disgust, Phil put the phone back on his ear. "Who the hell is this?"
"Aww Phil. That hurts. Do I really sound that different on the phone?" A soft chuckle crept into Phil's ear. "Or is it that you simply forgot the sound of my voice in your ear?"
The small frown grew, craving deep into Phil's forehead. "Listen to me you random nobody!" His voice tipped above a roar. "I am in no mood for your pranks right now, so -"
A flat tone cut in. "Does Mark always get back so late? He's not a very good roommate is he?"
Phil's breath stifled on a hitch. //W-What?! He knows about Mark?// His blue eyes glared at the blank TV in thought. //Calm down Phil. He called him 'roommate', so he doesn't know about the true arrangement. But the fact that he even knows that Mark is living here. Did Mark tell him?// He chewed on his lip ring that hung on his lower lip. //No. Mark wouldn't say anything. So who the hell is this guy?//
"Your silence is proof enough." Phil gritted his teeth. The caller continued. "Well whatever. I didn't call you in the middle of the night just to reiterate your life Phil."
"This is the last time I'm asking." He bit down hard to suppress the sudden feeling of fear that threatened to encompass him. "Who the hell are you?" His voice dipped into heavy gravel. "I'll give you one second to answer or else I'm hanging up."
"I thought you'd recognize your favorite client, but whatever." A sigh, "It's Adam."
Phil stared off into an unseen distance with cerulean eyes as wide as saucers. //Why is he calling me?// "H-How did you get this number?!"
"I have my ways. And is that really what you should be worried about Phil?"
Phil clenched his jaw tightly. "I told you to stay the hell away from me. We had an agreement. "
"Yeah we did. I promised to keep quiet as long as you kept funding me for the year. And you have. Thank you so much Phil."
"So if you know all that why are you calling me?"
"I know what happened between you and Mark." A long pause followed allowing the information to slowly set into Phil's now whitewashed mind. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna do something stupid like tell Mark, but I want something in return for my generosity."
Phil glared ahead in annoyance, "More money? Just tell me the amount and you'll have it before the sun rises."
"Money? Nah. I've got enough of that. What I want is what you're selling Phil."
//Selling?// Phil's brows creased in thought only to spring upwards in a dramatic fashion shortly after. "I quit that job. You of all people should know that."
"I know. You left the job years ago. However, whether or not you're employed there anymore is of no concern to me because I want it for free."
"Bastard!" Phil shot upright and screamed into the phone, "You think I'm gonna just do as you say at the drop of a hat?! You have no fucking idea how much that life messed me up! I finally escaped after sacrificing everything I had and you think I'm gonna go back down into that hole?!"
"You will because I have a big mouth that has no discretion whatsoever when it comes to the people it speaks to."
"Fuck you Edge! Everyone knows already! They were all fucking there!"
"Everyone except for the one you truly care about. And that is Calaway. Can you imagine if he found out? Not only would he hate you for life, he'd murder you the minute you get in range."
//I don't believe this.// Deflated and drained of strength, Phil dropped back down onto his couch with lifelessness behind his actions. His line of vision completely vanished into a different realm that no one could hope to follow.
"How many?" His voice was low so as to project a faux air of calmness and control.
A short laugh escaped Edge, "I'm only free for a month, so I say let's just have ten. No, make that twenty. Yeah twenty."
"Twenty." Phil scoffed softly, "Almost one per day."
"Yeah. I'll give you a call whenever I need it. You just be prepared. Oh and this time I don't want any time limits. Okay?"
"I have work Edge."
"Okay. Fine. One hour."
"Whatever." Phil sighed heavily, "Goodbye."
Without waiting for a response, Phil quickly hung up his phone. He glared harshly at it and flung it into the wall ahead. It smashed into pieces upon impact. //Shit!// Phil stood up letting the wild black, loose curls atop his head hang lifelessly over his face, partially shielding his tear-stricken eyes. //Shit!// The couch was the first thing to hit the counter a few feet away. It somersaulted onto the granite finish. In another instant the television was dragged off its stand and fed to the hard floor beneath only to be mercilessly stomped on by an angry Phil. Everything not nailed to the wall or floor within range of Phil was thrown everywhere, battered, broken, and then stomped on for good measure. The adrenaline that had pumped through his veins vanished as instantly as it had arrived leaving Phil crumpled like a crushed soda can on the glass-shard covered floor. The impact from the fall drove a couple of the sharper pieces into his face, exposed left arm and even pierced his shirt and stuck in his side. However, Phil felt nothing. He didn't even have the energy to do that.
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It was two am by the time Mark finally found his way to the apartment. After much deliberation as to where the apartment was located and even at one point deciding to go and spend the night in a hotel somewhere nearby but giving up after realizing he was yet again dead broke, Mark stared at the door with weary jades. Despite having downed enough booze to kill a large population of humans, Mark was still very much clear minded and sober. After living with an alcoholic for nearly all his life, Mark had somehow gained resistance to being drunk. He stared at the door for a while. //Should I go in? Crap. I don't wanna be here.// He sighed heavily. //Well, he is giving me food. And a bed. But why isn't he fed up yet? Can't he tell I'm purposely making his life hell?// His jades darkened slightly beneath the heavy shadow cast by his brows. //The more I instigate, the nicer he becomes. It makes me look like a total anal bead.// He scoffed to no one in particular and opened the door. //Well if that's how he's gonna play, I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve. If he thinks I can suddenly grow a conscience and change into this 'pet' he wants, he can take that idea and -//
The first thing his now widened emeralds landed on was the layer of protruding glass pieces that decorated the hardwood floor. The second thing was the fact that the apartment he had left looking like something out of an IKEA magazine suddenly resembled the aftermath of ten simultaneous tornadoes. The third thing was the awkward position of the couch as it almost seemed to be attempting to climb over the counter top but stopped halfway. The last thing to register in Mark's now beyond confused state of mind was the sight of an unconscious Philip Brooks lying on the floor.
"Shit! Phil!" Mark slammed the door shut behind him and sprinted over the smaller man. "Hey Phil! Wake -"
He ceased his sudden movements upon seeing the glass that ate away at Phil's entire left half. The floor beneath him had small puddles of blood and his shirt was drenched on the left in the red stuff. //Gotta move him carefully.// After taking a few moments to assess, Mark opted to simply carry Phil in his arms mirroring the fashion that a man would carry his bride. The sound of glass breaking beneath his steel-toed boots made Mark cringe a bit when thinking about the pieces of glass still stubbornly sticking to Phil.
The older man opened his room door and gently laid Phil's limp body onto the well-made bed. //He re-made the bed huh.// A tray with a small cover over it sitting on top of the nearby night table momentarily diverted Mark's attention. A piece of paper flapping atop the covering was what Mark eventually picked up.
"Came back during lunch time. Guess I just missed you. Here's some food for you in case you get hungry. Phil." Mark slowly dropped his eyes down to the man on the bed.
In all his years on planet Earth Mark Calaway was not a man known for being anywhere near emotional or sentimental. In fact, even his own brother thought he was an android of some sort. However, the little gesture made a nick in the thick layers of ice that encased Mark's heart and he felt it to the core of his being. //Sneaky bastard.//
Mark removed his coat and threw it to the ground. He headed to the closet, and then to the bathroom returning with a First Aid kit in hand. //Gotta get rid of this glass.// He sat beside the younger man and meticulously dressed his wounds. Luckily, they weren't anything more than small scratches and even a few deeper nicks here and there. After washing up, Mark returned to the room. He threw a cover sheet over Phil's still unconscious body and silently closed the door behind him as he exited the bedroom.
His eyes scanned the disaster that lay before him and he allowed only one desperate sigh to escape before marching over to the closet in the laundry area to locate a broom and other cleaning devices. It had taken Mark Calaway a total of two hours to get the apartment back to its former state. Being too tired to even think, Mark opted to lie on the couch and let nature run its course.
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