Chameleon | ONC 2020

10: Answerphone

Chameleon stared at the phone in her hand, frowning, and then put it down on the dresser. It had been a stupid idea anyway. Lilac was probably angry with her. She should just leave it.

Still, the lack of a response was worrying. A small part of her pointed out that Lilac should have picked up a call to the office, especially from a number that wouldn't come up as Chameleon's, and she hadn't. Perhaps her office was closed.

She had only intended to set things straight, so that it didn't have to end on such a sour note. Lilac had helped her, after all, and Chameleon was still going to pay her back. She had even allowed herself the smallest shred of hope that they could still be friends if she drew a few lines in the sand first, though she had a feeling she'd ruined her chances of that.

It was certainly not because she felt filthy for going back to Coran, who had left before she woke up in the morning. He'd left a note saying he had urgent business, and on seeing it her heart sank, because his urgent business was likely to be so much worse than Lilac's. She'd felt a little nauseous when she found the note on the folded towel they'd been using as a pillow.

She rubbed her face, yawning, as she crossed the room. The face that stared back at her in the bathroom mirror was as haggard as ever; make up smeared, pink marks on her neck that would undoubtedly be purple by the end of the day, her hair resembling a technicolour haystack. She needed to dye her roots again. She could've sworn she was coming through prematurely grey.

She showered quickly – no hot water, again – and dressed. Her eye caught the phone, and she sighed, dialling Lilac's number again.

She got answerphone.

She pocketed it with a sigh and slung on her jacket. The pocket crunched, and an investigation produce three crumpled twenties Coran must have left for her, which meant he didn't intend to see her at least until night time. She didn't mind. Her thoughts were far too confused to be trying to answer more awkward questions, and she wasn't entirely sure she'd got away with the ones she had tried to bluff her way through. He would probably be sulking about it when she saw him next.

The day was crisp and clear, with warm sunlight spilling through the trees on the avenue outside the flat. The traffic was mostly commuters at this time in the morning. Only a few shops were open, and workers were just starting to arrive at their offices.

She could pay off her debt now, at the clinic office, before Lilac had any appointments. Get some closure, and shut up the uneasy, nagging little voice in the back of her head.

Her feet directed her towards a tube station before she'd even made the decision, and before she knew it she was standing at the foot of the steps to Lilac's clinic.

"You're being dumb," she muttered to herself. Her heart was pounding. She looked around the street. Vampires wouldn't venture out on a day this sunny, but it was both habit and hope that something would give her a damn good reason not to do this.

Nothing presented itself. With a wrench, Chameleon climbed up the steps and pressed the doorbell.

Nobody answered.

She huffed, wondering if she'd got the times wrong. Surely a receptionist would be in before opening? She checked the day and date on her phone. A week day, no bank holiday. There was no reason the clinic would close completely, even if Lilac was off sick. There would be someone answering the phone for emergencies at least.

Scowling, hoping she didn't look suspicious, she hung about until the official opening time, but nobody arrived. She backed down the steps until she could see to the top floor, to see if any lights were on, but there weren't.