Melodies Of Betrayal: The Toxic Encore ✓

Chapter 18: Sinister

Chapter 18: Sinister

SANTA stared at his older friend, his eyes half open and his mind clouded with emptiness.

"What are you talking about, Yaya?" He questioned, attempting to roll his eyes but failing as his eyelids were stuck to each other. "Can you just go to bed already? We won't be any help to Junwon if we're both very cranky in the morning."

Yacht shook his head, sitting up in his place on the bed to face Santa. "No, no, no—there's something you need to see! This medicine is—"

Santa sank back his head against the pillow, sighing heavily in defeat.

"Please, Yaya. Please, just go to sleep now, okay? You can tell me everything in the morning—"

"Santa! There's something wrong with Junwon's medication—"

"Of course there is! There's always something wrong with everything at this time of the night—"

"It's rat poison!" Yacht exclaimed, a little louder than before to grab Santa's attention. Santa's eyes widened, suddenly forgetting sleep for brief moments.

"W-What's rat poison?"

. . .

The pair stood on one side of the street, facing the opposite direction with squinting eyes to take a closer look at the building in front of them.

The local pharmacy.

It was a basic-looking brick-coloured building with one-story above the pharmacy, which they both assumed that was inhabited by the owner of the pharmacy. The building had a large PHARMACY sign in big, red letters, and glass doors that allowed them to barely see what was inside without much effort.

"So," Santa began, crossing his arms close to his chest. "What now?"

"We need to find out who gave Mal the medicine." Yacht explained, not sparing his younger friend a single glance. His piercing gaze was invading the place through the glass doors. Santa made a mental joke that Yacht's eyes could pierce through the glass like laser, to which he could softly smile at the thought. "Mal texted you that day at this exact time to get the medicine from this place. We can take a closer look inside and see who might've handed her the medicine with a clear motive to kill Junwon."

Santa's arm reached up to scratch his hair in confusion.

"Couldn't it have been just an accident?"

And as soon as the question popped up from his mouth, he knew immediately that there was something wrong with it. A sensation of foolishness overwhelmed him.

"You don't hand anyone rat poison by mistake, Santa." Yacht replied, causing Santa to nod his head immediately. "It feels like a very precise accident too. If this mistake happened before, this pharmacy would've been closed down years ago!"

The image of Junwon crossed Santa's mind almost immediately.

Poor Junwon...

He only wanted to follow his dreams and work hard, and instead of meeting friends that supported him, he met people who became jealous of him and wanted him gone.

Not only was he sick and between life and death, but God only knew at that moment who almost caused him his life so cruelly like that.

And for a second, Santa and Yacht made a silent promise to themselves that, whoever did that, were going to pay.

Whatever it took.

. . .

"Why can't we just go inside?" Santa groaned, waving his aching legs in the air after standing still for a while. He had no idea for how long.

"Because we need to keep it low-key." Yacht's answer was short and simple, enough to give the younger context on his opinion.

And just when Santa was about to give a reply, his voice was cut off by his phone vibrating in his pocket, soon followed by a loud ringtone. Yacht sent Santa a side glare to gesture for him to turn it off, and to his dismay, Santa was already taking it out of his front pocket.

"Santa, turn it off, come on—"

"I can't, it's Earth!" Santa replied, sliding his finger on the green answer button. "Hey, Earth, what's up?"

"Hey, Santa—" Earth's voice was covered by a noise of plastic unwrapping. "Is Yacht with you? I need to ask about that potato recipe he tried to make last time so I can have something delicious to feed Junwon—"

Yacht rolled his eyes at the words of their third friend, his fingers rubbing his temple in distress.

"Potato recipe?" Santa scoffed, his eyes shut in relief. "Come on, Earth, I thought there was something serious going on!"

"It is serious! I can't make basic ramen like you two do!" Earth's reply was muffled because of the same sound of plastic unwrapping. "I need him to like me!"

"He already likes you, Earth—"

"You don't know that, Santa! So put Yaya on the phone. Now."

Santa scoffed once again, taking annoyed glances from his phone to Yacht, who was standing only a few feet away.

"Wha—why not just call him?"

"Because his phone is turned off. Duh!"

Yacht sent his younger friend a look of 'I told you so' before grabbing the phone and putting it close to his ears. The sound of plastic unwrapping filled his ears, and he grimaced in distress.

"What is that sound, Earth, what are you doing?" Yacht asked, setting the phone slightly apart from his ear in annoyance.

"Oh, I'm looking in the storage room for something interesting to cook for you guys as well. Do you guys like... Teokbeokki? Or is egg noddles better?"

"Those are two different things!"

"I know that, dummy! But I'll cook something else too, so take your pick!" Earth replied, still fumbling with some of the plastic containers in the background. "And ask Santa too."

Yacht rolled his eyes and turned to Santa, whom could tell that Yacht was already fed up with all the talk about food during their little mission.

"Do you want teokbeokki or egg noddles?"

"Ooh, I'll go with teokbeokki! I really liked it when Mal made it for us during our last visit here. I appreciated it because she doesn't like cooking either, but it came out really good—" Santa rambled, recalling a past memory of his best friend's food. A soft, side smile formed itself on his mouth.

He turned to Yacht to see if he recalled the same memory as well.

But he stopped in his tracks as he found his friend staring at the building before them with wide, shocked eyes, causing Santa to turn to the building with a curious gaze, already wondering what Yacht was looking at with such bewilderment.

And to his surprise and terror, his eyes fell on the glass doors, which he could see the place inside if he squinted hard enough. There, in the distance, was a familiar figure wearing a white pharmacist robe and fumbling through drawers in search of something Santa wasn't aware of. The figure then turned around, clearly sensing the presence of someone around him. And it was only then that both Santa and Yacht could take a long look that allowed them to memorize the face with ease. The familiar face they both disliked so much. The face that taunted them during the survival show and was jealous of them for the longest time. The same chestnut-brown hair along with light brown eyes to match. The soft, pale skin that radiated energy and the same slim figure they could both see from under the robe.

Soul.