hell or flying | Chaelisa

Chapter 43

There was only one other choice I had left and so I picked up my phone from beside the laptop and rung Michael, hoping he could be of help. However, instead of hearing his voice through the speaker, I only continued listening to the sound of the dial, the call remaining unanswered. It wasn't anything strange because despite always having picked up my calls before, people weren't free all the time. Just because I had nothing much to fill my days with didn't mean other people weren't busy. He would probably just call me back later. I could just wait... except, I couldn't.

Curiosity was eating at my soul and every second I spent sitting on the couch, staring off into space, only fueled my anxiety. I was feeling uncomfortable like this, not being able to do anything at all but stare at the device before me helplessly. I hated the feeling and, quite honestly, couldn't take it any longer without presumably exploding. Heck, I wanted to do something about this so badly I even considered phoning Jennie for a brief second. I quickly changed my mind though, knowing if I contacted her, the information would probably reach Lisa's ears one way or another. And for now, that was something I wanted to avoid.

It wasn't that I was keeping it from her. If she'd ask later on after she came home, I would tell her... if she asked specifically about whether I found anything of interest in the bag. Because I really didn't want to bring out the angst that night brought. Lisa would come home probably exhausted, and I wanted to take care of her instead of burdening her and making her feel bad.

Perhaps I could just wait another week or so before bringing it up, but I was far impatient for that. Now that I acquired something of his that seemed to be important, considering he wouldn't have encrypted something of no importance at all (unless he really wanted to waste my time and piss me off), I couldn't just wait any longer. Sure, I waited a week already, surely I could wait for one more, right? Absolutely wrong. Because it was different before when I barely knew of the bag's existence. But now that I remembered and searched through it, I couldn't pretend like I didn't. Couldn't pretend I wasn't utmost curious.

Sighing, I put the phone away from my ear and placed it on the couch next to me, hoping Michael would call me back soon. In the meantime, I settled on watching the cursor blink, waiting for the orders of my fingers against the keyboard. It was as if the text cursor was taunting me with its insistent blinking, staring back at me from the screen and laughing at my helpless expression.

It's not like I didn't try, though. Despite waiting for his call, I racked my brain for possible answers. Mostly the things I've already tried came to mind, which made me think whether my imagination and creativity were seriously so severely limited. I mean, I knew it might have suffered since I haven't touched an instrument fairly as often anymore, let alone a paintbrush, but this, this was tragic. To have the same words repeating in my brain over and over again despite knowing they weren't of any help at all made me feel utterly useless.

Still, I tried. I tried really hard, to the point I could feel the wheels in my head turning, screeching as they've gone rusty. And just as I was about to bang my head against the coffee table, hopeful it would jingle my thoughts up a little, I remembered something. Or rather, someone.

I've not had the chance to meet him, thankfully, but neither has Chanyeol. The man died in nineteen fifty-two before my husband was even born, yet; he looked up to him like he was a god. The old geezer was probably the only person Chanyeol ever respected or thought his words weren't utter bullshit. He considered him his teacher, though, in reality, he hadn't taught him anything at all since he was already six feet under; I let it go.

The man was a tyrant. It was no secret how he started the company on cruelty to his employees, on exploiting his power and ruining everything in his path just to get what he wanted. That's probably why Chanyeol loved him so much. He was practically him. From what I've heard about him, the two had so much in common it was freaky, even in looks they were very similar; both possessing features that made them look a little softer around the edges despite being anything but.