Delvin's feet carried him across the room in restless circles. His fingers drummed against his thigh—once, twice—before he forced them still. When he finally met George's gaze, his dark brown eyes locked onto his friend's with an intensity that could cut glass.
"What do you mean?"
His wrist twitched. Don't look at the watch. Don't.
George's grin returned, sharp and knowing.
"I-i know you, Delvin. Y-you're hiding something."
The game was over before it began. Delvin's shoulders dropped as he calculated his exit strategy.
"Alright, you got me. I'm concealing something. Can you guess?"
George shot to his feet. "I-i knew it! M-my gut told me you were covering something." He tapped his temple. "I-h know you better than you know yourself."
His fingers found his bracelet, twisting it in slow circles.
"Y-you got married, dude?"
The question hung in the air for half a second before George doubled over, laughter spilling out of him in uncontrollable waves.
Delvin exhaled, a smile tugging at his lips. George's face still held that curious gleam when he straightened up. "S-sorry, man. J-just messing with you. L-let me think..."
By then, Delvin had steadied himself. He'd found his answer to this troublesome puzzle. After all, his life was full of interesting things.
George scratched at his bracelet again, his eyes distant as he searched through mental files. Then his face lit up like someone had flipped a switch.
"Y-you got accepted a-at ZamCorp Base One?"
Delvin's eyes caught the light. The smile came without effort, natural as breathing. He nodded.
George froze, his expression shifting to something more serious. "A-are you serious, brother?"
Delvin held his gaze, steady and certain. He nodded again.
That was all George needed.
"W-wow! C-congratulations—y-you did it, Brother. I-I'm so excited for you."
George closed the distance and pulled Delvin into a crushing embrace. Both friends held on, their smiles saying everything words couldn't.
Delvin broke away first, gasping. "Enough, brother. You're going to suffocate me with that bear hug."
Laughter erupted between them, graceful and hysterical all at once. George released him.
"I-it's all coming together for you. I-i wish you all the best, f-from the bottom of m-my heart."
George jumped, his feet leaving the ground as he danced—no rhythm, no pattern, just pure erupted energy seeking release.
Without music, the performance was absurd. Delvin laughed until his sides ached, chills racing across his skin. This moment would stay with him.
Mutual respect. Love. It overwhelmed him.
"Thank you, Brother. For everything. For being there when I was at my lowest. I owe you one. I guess I made the right choice coming to this city after all."
George stopped mid-spin and moved closer, his eyes fixed on Delvin's face. "Y-you're welcome, brother. T-though there's no debt between us. W-when do you start?"
Warmth spread through Delvin's chest. "The third of March."
George's energy settled, his composure returning. His voice dropped. "F-five days from now?"
Delvin met his eyes, a genuine smile breaking across his face. "That's right."
George looked up at the ceiling, rolling his neck side to side until it cracked.
"I-i'm rooting for you, Brother. I-i can already smell the money on your v-card. I suppose t-that's goodbye to poverty?"
Delvin stretched his back, twisting sideways. A gentle, loving atmosphere settled over the room like a blanket. "Yes, brother. I suppose it is."
They'd exhausted all their energy. George stood. Delvin knew what was coming.
"I-i have to go. S-see you later."
Delvin matched his tone. "Alright. Good day. And please greet your sister for me."
George's smile came easily. "S-sure."
He slipped out, and Delvin was alone.
---
That evening, Delvin sat beside George along the wall-fence of Plagatoscal Blueview Hotel when Mister Parker emerged from the entrance. He walked toward them with purpose.
Instinctively, Delvin and George rose to meet him. An elegant, charming, mature voice reached them.
"Hi. What's your name?"
The question was aimed at him. Delvin swallowed, clearing his throat. "D-delvin Dred."
Mister Parker continued, "I have an electrical fault in one of the rooms. Could you sort that out for me? Then you can check the house afterward. More money for you, right?"
Delvin's pulse quickened. "Yes, sir."
Mister Parker called out, and Ben came running. Within a minute, Ben stood before them, eyes questioning.
"Show Delvin the room with the electrical fault. He's an electrician."
"Yes, sir. Follow me, Mister Dred."
Ben turned sharply and headed toward the hostel wing. Delvin followed him to room fourteen.
Two minutes later, Ben had explained everything—no power for five days. Delvin listened, absorbing every detail.
The moment Ben finished, Delvin began his assessment.
He pressed his neon tester into the socket. No reading.
He grabbed his multimeter, powered it on, adjusted the knob to AC voltage, and inserted the red lead into the socket, then the black. Still nothing.
While working, Delvin couldn't help but notice the room's details. Well-furnished. Tasteful. On the west wall hung a painting—Pablo Picasso's *The Old Guitarist*.
Delvin's gaze lingered on it. Art was one of his passions, and appreciating a masterpiece felt vital, necessary.
He sometimes painted. 'Mister Parker has good taste. Quite intriguing. I'm starting to like him even when I don't know him.'
Ben watched Delvin's every move.
Then a voice came from outside.
"Mister Ben."
The voice—spontaneous, smooth, enchanting—struck Delvin like lightning. It pierced through him, traveled down his spine, settled deep in his core.
Goosebumps erupted across his arms. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and instantly it began replaying in his mind on an endless loop.
"I'm right here. Room fourteen D."
Ben's reply was casual, unbothered. The Plagatoscal Blueview Hotel used a combination of numbers and letters—a testament to its size.
Moments later, a shadow fell across the doorway. A sweet scent drifted into the room—jasmine and something warmer, something he couldn't name.
Chills raced across Delvin's skin. He turned his head to see who it was.
A stunning dark-skinned, slender figure stood framed in the doorway.
His blood ignited. His heart slammed against his ribs—once, twice, faster. Heat consumed him from the inside out, burning away every distraction, every unworthy thought. Her presence electrocuted him.
Delvin became stone. Motionless. Time stopped. His heartbeat thundered in his ears—faster, faster. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but feel.