It was still there, hidden by trees and bushes that had since overgrown due to neglect. It had been so long since he had last seen it, he was sure he had just imagined it, but here it was, the old red phone box. After so many years of pondering over it's existence, he was seeing it again. It was slightly overwhelming for Harry, the last time he had seen it was when he was at his wits end, his most darkest time. He had only just managed to push himself from that darkness and here he was, the memories of sadder times flooding his mind. After making sure that no one else was around, he carefully approached the phone box, hoping it wouldn't disappear. He reached out towards it and gently brushed his hand against its chipped paint. The vibrant red it was once painted had faded over the years but nothing had really changed. Harry still had that unsettling feeling sitting in his stomach when he was near it, it shifted uncomfortably inside him, getting more and more intense the closer he got. He ignored it as he placed his briefcase on the slightly damp grass, grasped onto the handle of the door and pulled. It creaked open, echoing through the large field. Harry flinched and quickly looked around just in case someone walking close by had heard, no one appeared. He laughed quietly to himself, he had no idea why he thought someone would be wandering in the middle of nowhere. He slowly closed the door behind him, cushioning it against noise even though he knew no one was around. It smelt old and musty inside, Harry had to take a few seconds to get used to the aroma. It seemed to get darker when he was inside the phone box, though that could've just been Harry's imagination once more. He cowered a little at the sudden change in lighting but kept his cool as he picked up the receiver, swept off the dust that had settled on its cold surface and held it to his ear. He was surprised to see that there was no coin slot like in the other phone booths he had seen before and there had been many before he even considered this one. He dialled the number he hadn't been able to get out of his head for months and waited as it rang. It took a while but someone eventually answered.

"H-Hello?"

Harry took a deep breath when he heard the voice from the other side, Robin. He started to say something but he barely uttered a word before the line was suddenly cut off. He cursed under his breath and once again dialled back. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again, straight to voicemail. He sighed and let go of the phone. They seemed to be busy. He was worried about his two friends, Robin sounded a little confused. Usually when he was nervous or scared, his voice would crack and he would stutter. It was a little thing but Harry always seemed to notice the little things. Manny would start crying whenever he was scared and Harry could remember the countless nights when he and Robin would have to comfort the young boy after a particularly bad nightmare. Harry had many nightmares as well but he was a bit more quiet when he woke up, not wanting to wake up the others and make them worry about him. He wasn't sure about Robin, if he did have any nightmares, he never mentioned them. Harry, determined to save his friends, picked up the receiver and dialled in the number again. He waited once more before someone finally picked up.

"H-Hello?"

It was Robin again but Harry didn't even get to speak before the line was cut off again. Before the line went dead, though, he heard someone singing. He felt panic kicking in, squirming inside of him as he frantically punched the number in. He finally settled with dread as the line went dead...

"This number is unavailable right now. Please try again later."

If there was a song happening right now, then that meant that there was a lesson going on and if there was a lesson going on, then that meant that someone was going to get hurt or even worse, someone was going die. By the time their fourth episode has aired, Harry realised that he didn't have to work in that hell hole anymore. He had wanted to bring the others with him but Roy had already convinced them to stay. This was his final attempt to make them see sense, make them see that they didn't need lots of money to make an educational programme. He had hoped that it would work but it seemed that they had no control anymore. He still clung onto that small bit of hope, praying that on this next phone call, someone would answer and that they wouldn't be interrupted. Harry slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, smoking usually calmed his nerves. He lit the end of the cigarette, took a deep drag and blew out a plume of smoke. Robin had always hated his little habit and made sure that Manny wasn't in the room whenever Harry had a smoke. He didn't see what the big deal was and if Manny did ever catch him smoking, he would just tell him that it was bad and that he should never do it. Robin had always been quite stern with Harry, he was the one who set some rules while they filmed the first few episodes together. No swearing in front of Manny, no smoking in front of Manny, etc, etc... Of course there were the few times where Harry would forget but Robin wasn't actually in the room when he did so he never needed to know. Manny would just giggle quietly when he'd hear Harry swear, it was a classic kid thing. God, he missed the kid. He remembered when he first met him. Roy had invited him over to discuss the show and little Manny had been playing with toy cars the entire time on the carpet. It was sweet to watch him drive the plastic vehicles around and Harry instantly took a shine to the boy. Roy had insisted that his son be on the show as well and Harry didn't complain. He did feel a little unsure when Manny started talking about certain videos he'd caught his dad watching. He had approached Roy with this but was given a real blunt answer:

"My boy's just being silly."

Harry shivered as he remembered how Roy treated Manny. It was just horrible to watch, Harry wished he had done something earlier. The cigarette was almost burnt down to the filter so he stubbed it out of the wall of the phone booth, leaving a burn mark on the flaky white paint. He stood up and picked up the phone one last time. It rung for a while and Harry waited for someone to pick up but no one did. He sighed and put the receiver down. Looks like he had failed. He opened the door of the phone booth, it was raining heavily, he hadn't even noticed. He adjusted his scarf a little before stepping out into the cold downpour and bending down to retrieve his briefcase. Then he started walking away, away from his hopes, away from his dreams, away from the old red phone box.