What started with a random number (BXB) (GAY)

One bed, and unfortunately a couch.

Emory sat on the sofa in the living room, scrolling through his phone as he waited for Red to return. Throughout the duration of the time that Red was gone, Emory was able to shower, blow-dry his hair, and change into black sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. After doing all of these things, Red still hadn't arrived back. 

Maybe he had decided to not show up after all, which would be a good refreshment for Emory. He would be glad if Red changed his mind. That's what he wanted to think, at least. 

His apartment was quiet, eerily. He had gotten so used to being constantly accompanied by Red that he had forgotten how silent it was without him, even though he got used to it. 

He had been living alone for almost a year now, previously moving out on his birthday.

 He couldn't stand living in the same house as his dad anymore. Although, Emory didn't like calling his 'dad' dad. It's a meaningless word for him, really. 

When he thinks of a 'dad', he thinks of a man who isn't afraid to be out with his child. He thinks of someone who would do anything for their kid and wouldn't get mad over the stupidest shit. So no, his 'dad' wasn't a dad. He was just there. He was just Aaron. 

It didn't matter, anyway. He cut off contact with him as soon as he got his own apartment. And even though he knew that Aaron probably didn't care, a small part of him wanted him to. Just a small part inside of him wanted his so-called 'dad' to care enough. Just a little would be fine. He just yearned for a dad sometimes. 

Being deep in thought for a long while, he was dragged out of his head by a ding coming from his phone. He looked down, fully expecting it to be Red, but it wasn't. 

It was from an unknown number. 

Clicking on the notification, it was a short and simple text. Short enough to be called simple, but not simple enough to have no meaning behind it. 

"You will pay." 

Emory repeated the message in his head a few times. There were many possibilities as to who it could be, the list seeming almost endless. If there's one thing about Emory, it's that he likes to piss people off. 

However, there is always a possibility that it's a random guy prank texting. Small chance of that, though. It could also be Red, trying to scare Emory for whatever reason. He could probably buy another phone just to do that. He probably would, actually. 

Then comes the most likely explanations. Someone he fucked around with wants to get back at him. 

Now, there's multiple people that it could be. An obvious one being Tyler, because, I mean, he did get his ass beat when trying to choke Emory out, and he had Emory's number. Then again, it could be one of the teenagers that tried to fight him outside of the Apple Store, but none of them would have his number. It could be Parker, he had gotten into countless fights with him and had recently gotten him suspended. The list goes on, there's no way he'd be able to narrow it down just from one message. He did know one thing though.

Don't tell Red. 

Now, it probably would be a pretty good idea, since Red apparently knows everything. But then he would make a big deal out of it, when in Emory's opinion, it isn't one. 

Emory typed a response, "Who's this?", but when he went to send it, the message didn't go through. The anonymous threatener had blocked him. Pussy. 

Emory rolled his eyes and copied the phone number into his notes, recording it in case the person messaged him again. 

Even though he wasn't scared, he still felt a little hot. His heart pounded a little harder.