chapter two: julie's voicemails
Harry had left for work, shortly after listening to the voicemail, to exhaust himself by selling overpriced beverages.
He returned home to two more voicemails, both of which was from Julie. How unfortunate of him, he didn't know that this wasn't his Julie. This was the Julie who was going to get him into a lot of trouble, in the near future.
You have two new voicemails.
"You haven't replied. I know you listened to my previous voicemail, Harold. I'm really sorry for not responding earlier, and making you go through all of that. Please answer me. I love you."
Since when did Julie sound so... loving, again? The last time Harry recalled speaking to her face-to-face, she seemed like she'd be better off NOT talking to him.
"I'm very elated to hear about your paintings, and the job offer at the Daily Mail! Congratulations to you. I'm very proud," the voice ceased for a second or two, and all that Harry could perceive, were silent breaths. Ones that stirred his guts, and poked the dirtier side of him. Did he even stand a chance, though?
The two hadn't gotten intimate in over six months. Every time Harry gave it a hopeless shot, Julie flatly turned it down. It had happened so many times, that Harry was now way too embarrassed to ask, or urge anymore.
"Oh, and I have good news for you! I met a woman, who happens to be the only sister of one of my valuable colleagues. She's interested in seeing your paintings. Heather Wallace — she's stinking rich, and a fan of good art. I think you have a chance to earn a fortune, here. She's going to be waiting for you at Giovanni's, tomorrow — the famous coffee shop near the National History museum. Sharp at noon. She even asked me to give you her cellphone number — 721-xxx-7658. Don't be late, and don't let me down. I promised her."
Harry quickly jotted the digits down on his palm, with a marker, the tiniest of smiles lingering on his lips.
It definitely was a little strange that Julie — the very girl, who just a week ago, was too embarrassed to introduce Harry as a painter, to her friends, was now promoting his work. However, the man shrugged it off, deciding to promptly head towards his paintings, in order to choose a few of them, for his soon-to-be customer, Heather Wallace.
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voicemails ⋙ h.s
Fanfictionwhen a girl with a mentally unstable past starts receiving voicemails regularly from a man who mistook her for his lover, she eventually starts obsessing over him and would go to any length, to get intimate with him - even murder his girlfriend.
