My Rebel Angel (Editing)

Creston

After three months, Don woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. He sat upon his soft bed and vigorously tossed the clock into the wall, breaking it into pieces. He then tried to sleep again, only to be interrupted with a phone call a few seconds later.

Don hastily grabbed the phone on his nightstand and answered angrily, "Baretta, you have been calling me for weeks. Stop."

"Who's Baretta?" Mallory asked in a pissed tone.

Don fumbled and hacked a cough, "Oh, Mal! You called! I apologize!"

"Well, Why do I care?" Mallory said with a hint of envy.

Don couldn't help but smirk, "Mal, I thought you were my annoying ex-girlfriend. Don't get jealous."

"As I said, I don't care. I called you because you have been trending."

Don paused in disbelief, "That's funny, Mal. Are you trying to get revenge for what happened the last two months?"

"I wish I am, but no. You are getting popular now. People have been trying to reach out to you for interviews and other offers by calling my manager."

A smile crept on Don's face before standing up, "No kidding?" 

"Not at all. You told me you have been working hard for a long time, Don. Congratulations on your newfound fame."

"I'm... speechless. Thank you M---"

"Well, I have a lot to say to you." Mallory quickly interrupted, "Fame is a finicky thing. You better not let it go to your head as I did back then. You should know a bit better; you're thirty years old."

"Yes, yes. You talk like my mother, Mal," Don joked.

Mallory chuckled on the other line. "Let's celebrate over to my place! Your treat, though."

"Of course! Thank you, Mallory, and to your manager too," Don replied happily. "See you soon." 

Don quickly took care of his hygiene and dressed up before leaving his room. As he rushed down the stairs, an angry short, stout man with balding hair and a raspy voice wearing a grey suit popped up on his front.

The blonde man sighed as his eyes rolled up, "Damn it."

"There you are, you brat!" The short man shouted. "Abaddon was looking all over for you!"

"Not now, Crest," Don said as he walked past the short man.

Creston followed him and continued shouting at him, "Oh, not now? But your highness, You were lazing off and not doing your job! You being the son of some royal jerk does not mean you can do whatever you want!" 

"Don't make a scene," Don cautioned his eyes glance around.

"Don't make a scene," Creston mocked. "I won't be here if you were actually doing your job! I get the blame when you don't do your work, not you!"

Don rubbed his temples and sighed, "You gotta do my work for me for a while, okay?"

Creston's face drops. His eyes daggered to Don. He then suddenly wheezed.

"Ha, ha, ha! You're hilarious," Creston guffawed. "Ha, ha, ha! Do your work again? That never gets old!"

Don looked around cautiously and pulled out a dark envelope, making Creston cease laughter. He stared at him with all seriousness.

"I don't like it when you pull out black envelopes, you bastard." 

"Don't worry, I won't blackmail you this time," Don reassured. "I will give you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see your daughter again."

Creston stared at the envelope as his expression softened, "...My daughter?"

Don nodded solemnly, "Yes. I know your daughter, Crest."

"Are you trying to trick me? I don't trust you!" Creston hissed. "You're the reason I went down there with you!"

Don's eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, It's not just my fault you shook my hand! 

...Look, let's forget the past. You can inspect this permission slip with my signature if you have doubts."

Creston hesitantly took the envelope and examined the legitimacy of the slip. His hand shook before pocketing the paper, "You know you are getting in trouble for this in the future, right?"

"I don't care," Don said, flicking his wrist to his back as he walked away. 

Creston mumbled some curses under his breath and looked around.

"Fine! whatever dumbass thing you're doing, I don't care as well. Goodbye!" Creston grunted before going on his way.