2 days later
United States
4 a.m.
Dreyfus walks through the dark in Colorado, groomed neatly in a suit and tie, hair done professionally.
He stepped out of his matte black Onda. As he looked outside, it was a run-down motel. As he walked, prostitutes whistled at him."What a sexy Russian man you are."
Russian…?
Dreyfus looked completely different. Handsome didn't describe him. His features were almost perfect, his eyes dull, but his skin flawless. His hair was voluptuous and styled perfectly.
His dark hair, paired with his dead eyes, gave him the look of a man who could make women kneel with a single word. That was his gift.
He called his phone once more, entering the motel. The clerk looked on in shock.Dreyfus opened the seventh door.
And there he was—Jeremiah, stepping out shirtless in his boxers.
Dreyfus's face curled in disgust.
"Anyways," he mumbled as he stepped inside.
Jeremiah sighed."You didn't even ask if anyone was inside."
"She left earlier, for your information," Jeremiah added.
…
"You sure you don't like boys, Jay?"
A pause.
"Just be honest. It's completely fine."
"I don't…" Jeremiah, an Asian man, scratched his brown hair. It wasn't a bowl cut, but you could tell it used to be.
"Kay, well, you don't have to crash at such dirty places. You're rich now, you know that, right?" Dreyfus sounded annoyed.
Jeremiah took a seat on the bed."That's not it. I just like ugly women, and I don't want to be embarrassed by them in my estate."
Jeremiah stared at himself in the foggy mirror across the room."Ugly women get impressed so easily. A motel does great."
Jeremiah:"All they do is complain about how no one treats them right. You do the bare minimum, and they just can't stop fawning over you."
He continued rambling.
"Finally, I found someone who cares about me.""You're so loving.""Thanks for being there for me.""You're so attractive. You have such nice hair."
He snapped, scoffing."I hope you die. Literally. I hate them so much."
"No one will ever love you."
"You're a joke."
Delusional. Stupid. You deserve punishment, humiliation, and to be abandoned.
Jeremiah smiled, clicking his tongue, showing her to Dreyfus on his phone."I'm going to push this one to suicide, then write a book about it."
Jeremiah blushed, his body reacting at the thought."I'm going to call it… Autoktonia Eros."
Dreyfus glanced at the picture, then walked into the bathroom, ignoring Jay's sadistic monologue.'She's not even ugly…'
"Anyways, kid, where's your great weapon?" Dreyfus habitually scanned the bathroom like a detective.
Jeremiah started taking off his clothing, planning to change."I store it inside my body these days."
"In your… rectum?" Dreyfus commented sarcastically.
'Really, dude…' he thought.
Jay rolled his eyes.
Jeremiah sighed."You should probably check your phone. We're not living in the Stone Age. You're the only person I know who makes calls and ignores your entire call log."
For a moment, Dreyfus said nothing.'Should've just left it at "I'm the only person you know."'
He finally pulled his phone out of his pocket.
The screen lit up.
Missed calls. Unread messages. Notifications after notifications (199).
Names filled the screen.
Mr. N. Osprey. Aspera.Demi.Whymzel. Joon-Wool. Firenade.Monk8, Tiza, Incun.
More underneath them.
Dreyfus stared at the screen for a second.
Not surprised.Not worried.Just mildly irritated.
Without reading a single message, he locked the phone and turned it off.
Slid it back into his pocket.
Like none of it mattered.
Phones should stay off…
'Not in character for Demi to call, though. Something must've gone wrong.'
Jeremiah cleaned up as he started putting on his own suit and tie, almost done dressing.
He yapped,"Did you hear about what your manager said on social media?"
"They're lowkey ruining your image." Jeremiah smiled, thinking maybe he could pass him in followers soon.
Dreyfus:"I don't care about social media."
Jeremiah:"You sure? I heard Mr. N completely cut your salary, considering the fact that your merch and your girlpop fan club are getting so much revenue."
Jeremiah stuck out his tongue like a snake, mocking Dreyfus.
Dreyfus, tired of speaking:"I don't care about the money. Issak can use it for whatever he wants. As long as he doesn't bother me."
Finally, Jeremiah was dressed. His tone shifted more seriously as he locked in."About the elephant in the room, though—the presidency battle. What are your thoughts on the chances? I heard online betting sites have us winning at like 11.13% now. What are your odds—"
Dreyfus:"I am the odds, Jeremiah. Don't waste my time."