Fate's Inkwell (COMPLETED) (PUBLISHED)

Chapter 6

Zayd's POV (continuation of Zayd's POV in chapter 4)

I was stunned after hearing my doorbell ring multiple times; it didn't rest for a second. I didn't expect any visitors, not even my friends. I had canceled my plans for the day, including the reservation at Diamond's Hotel.

“What's wrong with my head?” I groaned as a headache hit me when I stood up. But that wasn't the reason I hesitated to open the door. The doorbell kept ringing incessantly, getting on my nerves. “Who the hell is ringing the doorbell like a madman!?” I yelled in frustration.

However, when I finally opened the door, there was no one there, just a note on the ground. As I picked it up, I noticed the use of letters similar to those from our class, which I had never attempted to learn.

“Tu propio destino ya no está en tus manos. Ten precaución, ya que a veces los débiles tienen la capacidad de derrocar a aquellos que actúan como reyes,” I read aloud. “Who the heck left a note in Spanish? Tsk.” I mumbled as I threw it away like trash into the bin. (Translate: "Your own destiny is no longer in your hands. Be cautious, as sometimes the weak have the ability to overthrow those who act as kings.")

I fell to my knees as I closed the door like a weak person losing energy to fight. “D*mn.”

I rested my head against the door before attempting to get up once again and finally reached my sofa. Gradually, I started feeling better, but not quite, as the headache, cough, and runny nose still bothered me. At exactly 4 pm, I finally ate my combined breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Afterward, I peacefully fell asleep.

My peaceful slumber was abruptly interrupted when my phone began beeping with notifications.

“What the heck?” were the only words I could utter upon seeing the picture circulating on the internet. “F*ck, who the hell posted this freaking photo?”

I left a comment before calling someone to have the post taken down, wondering how long it had been online before we took action.

“I've removed most of the posts,” he informed, looking like he had just woken up with hair disheveled and face a déjà vu early in the morning. “How did your photo leak out, anyway?”

“That's the million-dollar question,” I replied. “I have no idea how someone got their hands on such photos of mine.”

"Yuna?"

“Hey, Zayd? Do you have suspects?”

“None,” I answered. “For now, maybe.” With that, we both smirked, as if we did have a plan.