Chapter 11: Anything For a Price? (I'm not a Commodity)

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Felix stared at his phone, the screen lit up with a series of missed calls and unread messages. Most of them were from his sister, Dahlia, who had been texting him increasingly panicked messages since he'd gone off the grid for training. Every single one of his socials were blown up with memes, texts, then calls, and a few check-up messages from some of his friends.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as guilt gnawed at him. Great job you're doing here, Felix, he thought, rapidly texting and forwarding 'Haha, I'm not dead yet lol' messages as much as he could. And his sister....he knew, intrinsically, that he should've kept her in the loop, but everything had happened so fast. Too fast. Between the shock of joining the Wishmaking Organization and the whirlwind of training, meditating, doing god knows what, he hadn't found a moment to reach out. And now, judging by her last text, she was ready to call the cops.

Dahl-dahl 🙄: Srsly Felix? It's been days. If you don't answer me in the next 10 minutes, I'm calling the police.

Me: Ffs give me a moment

Dahl-dahl 🙄: Don't make me call Ma.

Me: CHILL

Felix winced; Dahl's on full grammar, huh? Mama would be a whole new level of trouble he wasn't ready to face. He quickly dialed Dahlia's number, holding the phone to his ear and praying she'd pick up before he had to deal with both of them.

She answered on the first ring, her voice a mix of worry, frustration and anger. "Felix Castor Solares! Where the hell have you been? I was two seconds away from filing a missing person's report!"

Felix winced, already feeling the heat on her tone. Shit. "Hey, Dahl. Sorry about that. Things have been...uh, a bit crazy on my end?"

"A bit crazy? That's what you call your entire disappearing act?" Dahlia's voice was sharp. "You disappear for days without a word, and all you've got is 'a bit crazy'? You don't respond to anyone, you went off the grid and you really—you, you better have a damn good explanation."

Felix leaned against the wall, trying to desperately keep his tone light. "I know, I know. But it's not what you think. I'm not in a ditch somewhere, and I haven't joined a cult—well, I don't think it's a cult."

"Not funny, Felix. Seriously, what's going on? You've never gone radio silent like this before. I've been worried sick, running around everywhere since you won't even send a damn text? An 'ok' would've been nice!!"

He could hear the genuine concern in her voice, and it tugged at his heart. He bit his lip, worrying the bottom. Dahlia had always been the responsible one, the one who had her life together, planning, fixing everything with her entirety with hard work and glue. Trying desperately, at some point he felt like he sucked the whole luck out of her. The last thing he wanted was to cause her more stress—to be the cause of her stress. Again. "Em, I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to freak you out. It's just...this new job. It's been a lot more troublesome than I expected."

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