Boy Band Games: Why Don't We Edition ✓

S2: 60 | Fade Away

"Even when we fade eventually to nothing." — Cloud 9

Chapter Sixty
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"HELLO?" I WAITED until I was alone outside again before I pressed the green accept button on the phone.

It isn't like I wasn't expecting this call.

I've been expecting this call for months, and no matter how badly I want to put it off by ignoring the voicemails, messages, and even the occasional email, I can't. I have to face this one way or another.

"Charlotte Elora." The familiar voice sent chills to my spine.

My breath hitched and my heart clenched as I walked towards the bench Angel and I were talking on earlier. I brushed off the snow that was on the bench and sat down, letting my back relax against the backrest.

I brushed my anxiety aside, taking a deep breath as I calmed my nerves.

I clenched my eyes shut, bracing myself for the long-awaited lecture I've been expecting for months now.

"Mom."

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"Oh hey, Lotte." Ibiza's golden brown eyes looked up at me as soon as I got inside the kitchen.

Her hair was tied into a messy bun and her usually formal attire was switched to a pair of cotton shorts and a white t-shirt that I could only guess, belonged to Harry Styles. She wore a cute but sort-of messy brown apron from all the cooking she's been doing for the past hour or so.

She was busy preparing snacks for later, during the New Year countdown we'll be doing in the backyard of the cabin. It was almost twelve, having it be half-past eleven in the evening.

"Hey." I replied, grabbing an apron from the counter and securely wrapping it around my waist and neck.

I grabbed the coffee maker from the cupboard and then took out some ingredients for regular iced coffee for everyone to share later.

As Ibiza continued to bake treats, I was trained in my thoughts, the occasional buzz of the coffee maker stifling a constant hum in the background.

My conversation with my mother lasted longer than expected, I could still hear the grueling beat of my heart when she said the all-too familiar words.

"I told you so."

I admit, it's my fault for holding it off for this long. And I wholeheartedly agree that she told me so, and yet I still didn't listen when even I knew she was correct.

When the coffee maker stopped, I took out a small glass pitcher and started pouring its contents inside. The clanking of glass against glass filling the room.

"I talked to my mom." I pursed my lips as I placed the coffee maker back to its machine.

At the corner of my eye, I saw Ibiza look at me. "Oh. She finally called, huh?"

I let out a light laugh, "Yeah, I've been leaving her on read for quite some time now. Guess she got annoyed."

Ibiza hummed in response, taking some oven mittens from the refrigerator top and putting them on.

"You've been putting it off for quite some time now. I'm glad you finally decided to go." The manager crouched down to open the oven.

Light smoke wafted through the kitchen, and the smell of freshly baked pastries delighted my olfactory nerves.

"I'm glad too." I looked down.

The thought of actually going through with what my mom proposed was perfectly fine. It's for my future. The future I planned for myself— and yet here I was, running away from it. I feel bad for putting my mom on the spotlight to negotiate and fix things for me while I pranced around with a boy band.

However, now that she presented me the opportunity of a lifetime, I can't help but feel guilty.

What will the boys say?

Ibiza, Angel, Marie, and the staff know. But they were all sworn to secrecy by me— they were to never tell the boys. Even Mia knows. And if I remember correctly, I had discussed this with Trina before she got sent home to be hospitalized.

The question still lingered at the back of my mind no matter how hard I try to push it away.

What will the boys say?

There was a few moments of silence before I felt a warm mitten-clad hand on my shoulder.

I looked at who was behind me and Ibiza gave me a soft smile.

"It's gonna be okay."

I forced a small smile to appear on my face just to give her some sort of assurance before both of us turned back to do whatever we were both doing a while ago.

As I poured myself a glass of iced coffee, Ibiza's words echoed in my head again.

"It's gonna be okay."

Still, no matter how soothing Ibiza's words were, my anxiety was still borderline overwhelming. The unsettling feeling in my stomach remained creeping through my entire body, slowly swallowing me into its dark abyss.

I held the glass of iced coffee against my lips, slowly drinking the liquid. As the drink flowed down my throat, my mind wandered to my utmost worries once more.

What will the boys say?

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