Fuck You.. Fate

Chapter 14..The Talk in Vain

It felt to Syren as if this void in his heart had permanently made home in him..his body trembled in defeat as he walked back to the familiar street of his little apartment..Everyday now seemed like a challenge to him, like a great disaster waiting to happen.. like the world was going right against him and as if God had misprinted the word 'Happiness' out of his destiny.

The bag on his shoulder weighted him down immensely, the realization of the books in his hands all gone waste a proof to his misery.

He recalled all that he had done for that freaking position..all that he had lost while working so hard, all that he could not achieve just because some..some people refused to let him live..and It felt to Syren that he might even break now, or something in him was going to burst and tear if this continued.

He barely managed to sleep that night, because any, and all the times that he did, Alexander's stoic demeneor and Sebastian's angellic beauty flashed right before his eyes. Their un-familiarness was haunting to him, their strangeness to him terrifying..their presence a lure to him that was horrifying. The subdued wolf in him whimpered pathetically for the first time since it's birth, the sight of their uncaring appearances too much for the little, white animal in him..who had seen his mates for the first time ever and realized it had been rejected even before it's birth. But it hadn't cried ever after, and Syren wasn't sure the little wolf was still there or not..

The clock kept ticking closer and closer to 11...and yet Syren remained in his bed, not caring..never caring for their instructions. At that point, they could just kill him..Alexander and Sebastian..and he would die unnoticed, it would be better anyways, for he didn't believe living was worth anything anymore.

David's phone ringed on busy as many times as he called..And his textbooks were now all piled up in a heap at the corner of him, all useless, all waste.

The clock hit 11, and then 11:01 and then 11:03, until it kept ticking, but Syren never got out of his bed, didn't feel guilty..didn't feel betrayed. He stared out of his window, content.. not wanting to explain, not wanting to repeat..his head wrapped in a box of numbness as he collected his books, his bagpack, and knotted them together, to throw out once he was safe and sure.

With all the books cleared, the room was suddenly all empty, and Syren realized the extent to which he had gone just for that freaking position, and now, all was over.

His numb eyes locked at the leather bag kept vertically at the side of his bed again, and his eyebrows furrowed. He held it up, and kept staring continously at the brandname embedded on it, something about this bag so unnerving to him. His fingers then moved suspiciously over the writing on the leather bag, tracing the pattern..

And then, a gasp left his breath hitching..His fingers traced a circled embedded deep where the the brand name actually had an 'H' printed, and when he focused very carefully on it, eyes straining harshly, a tiny black camera was winking right back at him..it's red light negligible-but still there, and the leather bag fell from his hands in a terrifed motion.

THE PANTHEONS, repeated Syren in a dumb way, realizing how messed up this actually was..how he hadn't realize PANTHEONS wasn't a brand, but the name of the royal family was so stupid of him..and his lips quivered at the realization that we was, infact, being fimled all this time...and even now.

His hands frantically moved, and he gripped the first thing he could, a ball pen..and he smashed it's tip right down the camera with shaking hands..the presence of that shadowy body days ago crawled deep in him, and his spine chilled as he watched very little pieces of glass break out from the bag's fiber..