Prank Calls | D.R.

Chapter 7

Sergio's POV

     We've been here for one week, and it's horrible. Drew has gone off even more. It seems worse than before. He yells at me when I try to correct him. He swung at me when I told him he couldn't buy alcohol. He threw a lit cigarette at me when I told him to stop smoking. I wake up in the middle of the night to moaning. It's horrible.

     Last night I was casually rewatching Boy Band on the tv, and Drew came in drunk. He took the nearest thing to him and nailed it into the tv, ultimately breaking it. I've hidden all my electronics since then.

     It's reached the point where I've decided that I have to lock both Drew and I in our apartment. I need to monitor Drew, and he can't get out or else he'll cause conflict. Management already yelled at me for letting him cause this much trouble. I can't let him cause anymore.

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Drew's POV

      First, they try to take me out of the spotlight by putting me in the most populated city in the US. They messed up, and they should have to pay the consciences, but no. Now, they lock me in this crappy apartment.

      Little do they know I can still express myself in this confined environment. Those fuckers forgot about social media.

      I pull a cigarette and my lighter out of my jean pocket before completely taking my jeans off. I take off my shirt, so I'm only in my boxers now. The bed is plain, black covers with no detail. I lie down on the bed lightly and light the cigarette. After taking a long drag from it, inhaling the smoke, I let out a big cloud of smoke. I take a picture of myself, full body, cigarette and all, and post it on both Twitter and Instagram.

     The silence following is soothing. There's no sounds in the room. I take another deep breath of smoke. It's the most calming thing, to do this. It relaxes the soul.

      The relaxation continues before my obnoxious ring tone blares through the room. Stupid management. They probably saw my picture and freaked out because "it sends a bad image to the fans." If the fans don't like me, then they don't have to follow. Simple as that. I reach over and pick it up.

     "I don't care what you say," I snap at them. Instead of the usual snap back, there's heavy breathing on the other side of the line.

     "Drew, oh my gosh something horrible has happened," of course, I should've known. The same unknown girl has been prank calling me for the past couple of days. She says her line, I tell her to shut up, she makes a remark back, and I hang up, that's how it goes. This time, however, she actually seems worried.

     "What happened?" I ask unamused. I couldn't care less about her life.

     "My fish drowned!" she exclaims. My eyes involuntarily roll.

     "You interrupted me for this?" I blow out another cloud of smoke.

     "Yes, it's important! I was sitting here, and Ashton Irfin just drowned! I watched it happen with my own eyes!"

     "You're ridiculous," I scoff.

     "Are you saying you don't believe me?" she acts mock offended.

     "That's exactly what I'm saying. Fish can't drown. They live in water. That's the wrong terminology."

     "But my fish did. Then it floated."

     "If I tell you that I believe you, will you shut the fuck up?"

     "Hey, watch your fucking profanity!"