ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ | ✓

ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ

Alana | Jared 

"Welcome-"

"So, back to asking questions?"

"Oh, I forgot about that. Go ahead. Ask first if you want."

"Umm, okay. I'll start with an easy one. What's your favorite color?"

"Umm...Green I think."

"Cause you work at the Florist's?"

"Funny. My turn. Uh, the same question."

"How original. I like all the colors really. I don't have a favorite."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Next question, What is your last name?"

"You won't find me on social media."

"Regardless of that, I still want to know."

"It's Walker. Yours?"

"No, not mine. Not yet."

"Oh, come on. It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"You asked for mine."

"I did. I never said it was an exchange offer though."

"Why are so secretive about your identity? You expect me to answer your question, why not mine?"

"It's complicated."

"You are making it complicated."

"Jeez, okay. But promise not to judge me or something?"

"Why would I judge you? I'm asking for your last name, not some secret stripper identity. Not that being stripper is any less of a job."

"Promise me!"

"Okay, okay. Promise."

"Alright. It's, uh, Adams."

"Adams? Lana Adams. As in Alana Adams, Andrew Adams daughter?"

"Yes. How'd you know?"

"Wasn't hard to figure out."

"You sound bitter."

"Did you know who I was? When you called? 

"Huh? No! Why would I know you?"

"You're all the same, the rich people. Thinking you're superior, toying with the lives of people like us."

"What the hell are you talking about Jared? Your mood suddenly took a 180 degree turn."

"Don't call here again, Adams. And tell your father to rot in hell and stop messing with my family."

"I'm lost, Jared. I don't know where this is coming from so use your words to explain it to me."

"Bye."

"You promised not to judge me because of my last name, Jared!"

"Well, I guess I lied."

"Jared -"

Click. 

"What did I do?"