Wrong Number Gone Right | A Short Story

Wrong Number Gone Right

Another dull day, Gavin thought to himself as he looked in the mirror. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was about to finish brushing his teeth.

He spit on the sink and cupped some tap water for him to gargle. After a few rounds, he also washed his face.

Then he looked on the mirror again and sighed.

Gavin turned to his right, grabbed the fresh set of clothes he hung before he took a bath, and changed. He settled for some jeans and a classic tee.

But that wasn't an ordinary shirt. Last year, it was a uniform, something that everyone wore during his batch's reunion.

He flashed back to those memories. High school had been a tough place for him. As his friends liked to put it, it was his "coming out" phase. Many people teased him for liking boys. It was almost a normal thing here in the Philippines.

But even so, it was still particularly hard. Gavin had to endure six years of teasing, depression, standards, family feuds, academic pressure. . .you know, the usual struggles of a student.

However, after that, he left his homophobic school and household and decided to live here, in a small room in an apartment. It was nothing much, but it helped him isolate himself from those who despised who he was.

During the reunion, there were occasional side glances and whispers among his peers. He left the late-night party after that. He felt like he wasn't wanted there anyways.

Gavin snapped out of his train of thought when the alarm on his phone began to ring. "Shit! I'm going to be late!"

He grabbed his phone and rushed out of the bathroom and into the main part of his room.

It was a bare room, with only a bed, boxes beside it, and a desk not far from it. Beside the desk was the sliding glass door to the balcony. On the ceiling was a fan that he turned off. On the bed sat a motorcycle helmet, a mask, and a fanny pack.

He strapped the fanny pack, wore the mask, and carried the helmet on his side.

Gavin rushed out of his room and onto the hallway. He locked the door with his keys and threw them in the bag. Then he power-walked to the stairs. He was in a rush today, letting his memory guide him on what to do.

He arrived at the ground floor, where the owner of the apartment stayed.

"Morning, Gavin!" the receptionist greeted him. "In a rush, huh?"

He stopped and turned to greet her. "Morning, Dahlia. Anything new for me today?"

"Yeah. But I assume you'll get it later?"

He was already at the door. "Yeah! Bye!" Then he pushed past it to the parking lot. He sat on his motorcycle, put the helmet on, keyed in the ignition, and drove off to the road.

Gavin joined with the traffic as he headed off to his first day on the job.

•

He drove through the streets, weaving past cars in a bump-to-bump-traffic situation. Gavin could hear the desperate beeps of the cars. But he didn't concern himself with those.

He was busy today. He needed to deliver the packages before the end of the day.

Gavin saw his destination getting closer on his phone. He looked at the road again and realized that he couldn't move to the very side to deliver the goods.

That was, until the cars began to move, giving him enough leeway to squeeze himself in. He arrived in front of the building. Gavin immediately noticed the stores on the ground floor and a set of stairs at the end.