"Fuck," Yael stammered, quickly closing his eyes. The person felt themselves go unconscious, quickly standing up to resist yet failing. They laid on the ground, their chest pressed up against the ground as they placed the gun on the further one of Yaels hands. Yaels eyes shot open, him quickly grabbing the gun and straddling this guys back, holding them down.
"Jesus." He muttered under his breath, pointing the gun at them.
"Who sent you?" He asked as he took off the mask of the person beneath him as they squirmed to break free, realizing that they're a girl.
"Let me go! NOW!" The girl screamed. Yael quickly covered her mouth.
"Keep it down, dammit. Who sent you? Tell me." He pressed the gun against the back of her head, heavily breathing as he waited for an answer.
"None of your business..." The girl whispered, causing to get a chuckle out of Yael. He got up and held the girl from her shirt, pulling her up to make her stand on her feet.
"If you don't leave in approximately 10 seconds, know yourself to be dead." He exclaimed, stepping back and pulling his hand away. The girl ran away, leaving no trail behind. Yael looked at the gun in hand, sighing to himself.
"What a bother." He whispered before unloading the gun and crushing it beneath with a big rock nearby. He made his way over to the powerbox and turned it on before going back inside through the backdoor. The lights were on, as expected. He went to the back, meeting his manager and crew.
"Lights are back on. Do your thing in a minute." Yael spoke as he peeked in from the door, then shut it as he finished his sentence, making his way to the backstage. It didn't take long for the lights to go out, except the ones pointing at the stage, shining light on it. Yael stepped onto the stage, singing his heart out...
After the concert, he decided to text Nolan. Guessing that he's in a mafia, he thought maybe he'd have an idea of who the woman could be. He walked back towards his room and sat on the couch before texting him.
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He tapped his foot on the ground impatiently as he waited for a response. Maybe he went to sleep, he thought. But it's only 11 PM. Surely not? Maybe he's in the middle of a mission.
"I'll wait..." He leaned back on the couch, starting to count the minutes...
Meanwhile with Nolan, he rubbed his eyes as they fluttered open, sitting up on his bed.
"Who texted me at this hour...?" He muttered under his breath grumpily, reaching for his phone. He wanted to put it back down as soon as he saw that it was Yael, but despite not wanting to answer, his fingers reached for the letters.
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Yael smirked at his phone, confident that whoever that lady was, it was sent from whatever gang Nolan was in. He assumed so because he saw Nolan kill someone, so now they'd try and take him down from being a witness, at least that's what he thought. He wouldn't want any witnesses left behind if he were in that kind of profession, either. He exhaled, stretching before placing his phone in his pocket and getting up from his room, picking up his bag, getting out through the main area and walking to his Uber. He stepped in, closing the door after him. After telling the driver the address, he went back on his phone, scrolling aimlessly, before he was cut off by the driver speaking.
"Sir Yael, news about the power going out are spreading like crazy. People say you even fought with someone as all of that happened. You alright?" The driver questioned, his gaze never leaving the road, not even for a split second. Yael smiled as he looked at the driver.
"It's true that the powers went out, but... A singer fighting? Now that is some wild imagination." He chuckled as he responded, his hand on his chin. The driver nodded acknowledgingly. He looked out the window, going over his day. The meeting with Nolan, the talk they had, the power outage, the lady and the concert... He couldn't determine if it was a good day or not. Regardless, he crossed his arms, a content smile on his face. It was nice to see some action just as he did in his childhood. And, to his surprise, it felt quite nice to relive such a feeling yet again. Such nostalgia, but also the pleasure of having the upper hand, it always made him cocky in a way he liked. He pondered on where his father figure may have gone now.
At the same time with Nolan, he walked to the corporation building, walking to his Boss' office and knocking on the door. He stepped in as he heard a faint 'Come in.' Without wasting any second, as soon as he closed the door behind himself, he started to talk.
"Yael, the singer guy, texted me. He said he encountered a woman, sent to take him down." He talked, sitting down at one of the couchs.
"Did you send someone to take him down because he's a witness?" He questioned. His boss looked at him with a confused expression.
"You never reported in with your missions result, Nolan." His boss replied with a calm tone. The realization hit Nolan like a pile of bricks, his eyes widening. That was true. He headed home as soon as he was done, he forgot to report in. So who was this woman? Did he lure her in somehow? Maybe someone wanting to seek revenge on Nolan, and seeing that he was with Yael, she assumed they were close friends?
"What's going on in your mind?" His boss asked, intertwining his fingers as he placed his elbows on the desk.
"Nothing... I just- Ugh. What really happened during the mission was..." Nolan explained in full detail about what happened with his mission. How he panicked, but Yael had saved the day. His boss nodded, his hand on his chin as he thought for a bit.
"This Yael guy would be useful for our job, you say?" His boss asked, Nolan replying with a nod.
"I see. Then ask him if he wants to join us. I'll get to see who he is up close, too." His boss added, Nolan nodding in return once more.
"I'll... take my leave now. I'm sorry for barging in." Nolan said, looking down and taking a deep breath.
"No need for apologies, we're no less than family, regardless if you're a newbie or not. Take care." His boss spoke, a soft smile on his face. Nolan nodded, standing up from the couch with his never changing neutral expression.
