The office is dark, with only a single desk lamp casting a faint glow. The room is littered with empty bottles of liquor and broken glass. The desk is cluttered with papers and the remnants of a shattered bottle. Eissel, disheveled and visibly distressed, stands near the wall, gripping a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
Eissel is shouting at the wall, his voice hoarse and filled with despair. His face is flushed, and his eyes are red from both crying and alcohol.
Eissel (screaming): "Where are you, Yvette?! Where the hell are you and Lessie?!"
He hurls the bottle against the wall, the glass shattering with a loud crash. He paces the room frantically, his anger and helplessness spilling over.
Eissel (to himself, voice breaking): "I've tried everything. I've searched every place... But nothing. No trace, no hint, no sign of where you could be."
He picks up another bottle, the weight of it seeming to add to his burden.
Eissel (swigging from the bottle): "Is this what I deserve? To be left alone while you're out there, somewhere, and I can't even reach you? How could I let this happen? How did I let it all slip through my fingers?"
He slams the bottle onto the desk, the impact sending a few papers flying.
Eissel (desperately): "I thought I had it all. A family, a future... But it's all gone. I'm just a mess of broken dreams and shattered promises... Why all are elusive!!!!!."
He collapses into a chair, burying his face in his hands. The room is filled with the sound of his labored breathing and the occasional clinking of glass as he knocks over another bottle.
Eissel (muttering): "I was supposed to be strong. I was supposed to fix everything. But now... now I'm just a wreck. I don't even know how to make this right... I am stupid....I am idiottttttttttttttttttttttt!!!"
The tears continue to flow, mingling with the alcohol on his hands. Eissel looks around the room, the broken bottles and scattered papers reflecting the chaos in his mind.
Eissel (whispering to himself): "I need to find you. I need to fix this. But how... how do I start?"
The night wears on, and the room remains a silent testament to Eissel's despair and sense of loss. The scene fades with him sitting in the dim light, surrounded by the debris of his broken hopes.
San Carlos Resort - Eissel's Office - Early Afternoon
Eissel's office is now almost completely dark, with heavy curtains drawn against the daylight. The desk is cluttered with unopened mail and papers bearing invitations and event notices. A few empty bottles still litter the room. Eissel, looking gaunt and haggard, sits behind his desk, staring at the stack of unopened invitations.
Eissel's personal assistant, Lina, stands at the door, holding a stack of new invitations. She looks concerned but determined to respect Eissel's wishes.
Lina: "Mr. Torrecampo, these are the latest invitations. There's one from PICE, another from the Surfing Federation, and a few from local organizations. They're all requesting your presence."
Eissel (without looking up, voice weary): "Turn them all down, Lina. I don't want to attend any of these events."
Lina (hesitantly): "But they're important, Mr. Torrecampo. They've been waiting for you. The community events... the people—"
Eissel (interrupting, his tone sharp): "I said no. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend everything is fine when it's not."
He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. His eyes are red and tired.
YOU ARE READING
Elusive
RandomIn the coastal town of Surigao, where the waves crash against the shore and dreams seem as vast as the ocean, Eissel Torrecampo's life is a tale of elusive pursuits. Born to a humble family, his father a skilled carpenter and his mother a diligent l...
