Shining Distraction [slow updates]

.SIX.

"But you can't stop there, music still playin' in the background..." --Motivation, Kelly Rowland feat. Lil Wayne

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"Hello?" The voice on the other line is getting impatient; I haven't managed to say a word, terrified of what I've done. It is most definitely a man on the other end of this phone call, the only word having left his lips, however, does not give away any indication of whether it's the man I'm hoping for.

All eyes in the room are on me, watching and waiting for me to say something, anything, to clue them in on who I might have been connected to. I continue to stare past them, blankly, focusing on breathing, the action no longer coming naturally. My brain has to work harder to tell my lungs to take air in and let it out just as quickly.

Once my mind is able to give its attention to other things, it has the chance to process that I've been silent for far too long, the person speaking on the other line becoming more enraged by the second.

"Hello," it shrieks once more, the tone of voice much harsher than it was only moments ago. "I can hear you breathing, you know."

And that's all it took. Those few extra words -- lacking that familiar accent and rushing out far too rapidly to be Harry -- were all I needed to hear to know I hadn't been connected to the person I'd intended. The person I'd simultaneously hoped and feared it would be.

I shake my head a few quick times, screwing my eyes shut to clear out the confusion, before finally speaking.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry," I apologize and I immediately recognize the very familiar heartbreak taking over my body the way it had before. When I glance at each face in the room with me, I see the same sadness spread across them all. "Uhm, I think I have the wrong number." A huff of frustration from the stranger on the phone startles me and I avert my eyes to the floor, staring at the chipped polish on my toe nails.

"Right." Click. The line disconnects but I cannot move my phone from my ear, frozen with fear and heartache, too stunned to even think straight. I am aware that no one's eyes have moved to look at anything other than me but I cannot bring myself to look at them yet. I feel Conrad's hand on my shoulder, a gesture meant to be comforting but there is no denying the pity I hear in his voice when he speaks.

"Oh, Charlie," he states and I have to clamp my eyes shut, silently willing the tears to stay hidden, at least until I am alone. I reach my hand up to place it over his, squeezing his fingers weakly with my own before inhaling deeply and looking up toward the three of them.

"Well, at least now we know," I say, doing my best to keep my voice as neutral as possible, not wanting the utter disappointment I was feeling to break through to the surface. I had already spent too much time tonight crying over this, the same heartbreak I'd told myself I had finally overcome. Clearly, I was wrong.

"So, what are you going to do about Friday?" I take a moment to stare at Greer when she asks because I honestly don't have an answer for her. What am I going to do? We can't cancel the interview and I sure as hell can't tell Matilda that I won't do it. If I don't do it, we lose the interview and risk taking a hit to our reputation.

I take a few more seconds to ponder my response before coming to a conclusion. I run my fingers through my hair, moving it out of my face, and I take in a deep breath, exhaling loudly as the words find their way out of my mouth.

"I have to do the interview," I announce, nodding a few times before moving from my spot for the first time in the last thirty minutes, placing the note back between the pages and leaving the book on the nightstand. I power down the stereo and finish off my glass of wine, turning to Kate, who has moved to sit on my bed once again.