HAUNTED || chris sturniolo

𝟎𝟐𝟐. call me whatever you want

CHAPTER 022 -
╰┈➤ ' call me whatever you want ' ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
「 real life 」

─ real life ᥫ᭡

CHRIS WAS SPRAWLED ACROSS THE WORN LEATHER COUCH IN ZAYN'S LIVING ROOM, his feet propped up on the coffee table despite the faint warning glare zayn had shot him earlier. an empty soda can rested precariously near his sneakers, and the faint hum of a basketball game played on the tv, though neither of them was paying much attention to it.

zayn sat cross-legged on the floor, elbows propped on his knees as he scrolled through his phone with half-interest. every few seconds, chris would open his mouth like he was about to say something, then close it again, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

after the fourth sigh in five minutes, zayn's patience snapped.

"what, man?" he asked, glancing up from his phone. "you've been making dying whale noises for the last half hour. just spit it out."

chris hesitated, drumming his fingers against his chest. "okay, look... hypothetically speaking... if someone were to, i don't know, want to hang out with someone else, but—hypothetically—they were blocked on every possible form of communication... what would you suggest?"

zayn blinked slowly, his lips pressing together like he was trying to hold back a laugh. "first of all, hypothetically? seriously?"

"just answer the question!" chris groaned, tossing a couch pillow at zayn's head.

zayn caught the pillow with ease and tossed it aside. "fine. i'd suggest this hypothetical person give up because being blocked means it's over, man."

"you're supposed to be on my side!" chris said, sitting up abruptly and running a hand through his hair. "look, i know i messed up—bad—but if i could just... i don't know, be in the same room as her, maybe i could actually fix things."

zayn raised an eyebrow. "fix things? chris, she blocked you. not ignored, not muted—blocked. that's like the digital equivalent of building a ten-foot wall and setting it on fire."

"okay, yeah, but... like, it doesn't have to stay that way," chris said, his voice lowering slightly. "i know i'm an idiot, alright? but i care about her, zayn. i'm not just trying to win a bet anymore. i'm—i'm actually trying here."

zayn sighed, setting his phone down and leaning back on his hands. "dude... i hate to break it to you, but this isn't something you can just force. if she doesn't want to talk to you, that's her choice. you gotta respect that."

"but what if... what if there's a way for her to want to talk to me again?" chris said, his voice quieter now. "like, if we were all just hanging out—casually, no pressure. no weird one-on-one confrontation. just... a group thing. me, you, cecelia... and adriana."

zayn stared at him for a long moment, processing what chris was asking. "you want me to trick adriana into hanging out with you?"

"not trick!" chris said quickly, holding up his hands defensively. "just... gently nudge. look, you and cecelia are close now, right? and adriana and cecelia are basically attached at the hip. you could totally swing it. like, 'hey, let's all go to the movies!' or something."

zayn let out a sharp laugh. "oh, so now i'm your social coordinator? your personal wingman?"

"zayn, please." chris's voice cracked slightly on the word, and he immediately cringed at himself. "look, i'm not above begging. i will beg."

zayn pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath. "man, this is so pathetic. you are so pathetic."

"i know!" chris said, throwing his head back dramatically. "but you're the only one who can help me. you and cecelia are, like, besties now. please, dude. please. just one hangout. one chance."

zayn studied chris for a moment, lips pursed, his phone forgotten on the floor beside him. "you know, i've seen a lot of desperate men in my day, but this? this takes the cake. you're out here setting new standards for desperation."

"call me whatever you want, man," chris said, his voice tight with frustration. "pathetic, desperate, a lost cause. i don't care. i'm serious about this."

zayn let out a long sigh, leaning his head back as if asking the universe for patience. after a moment, he looked back at chris, his expression softening just slightly. "you really care about her, huh?"

"yeah," chris said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "i do."

zayn exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "alright. fine. i'll talk to cecelia. but i'm not making any promises, and if she says no, you're on your own."

chris's eyes lit up with relief, and he practically jumped off the couch. "thank you, man. seriously. i owe you—like, forever."

"yeah, yeah, don't start writing me sonnets just yet," zayn said, picking up his phone again. "but listen to me, chris. if we actually pull this off, and you mess this up—if you say something stupid, or cocky, or you make her uncomfortable even for a second—it's done. you're on your own after that."

chris nodded firmly, his face serious for once. "i won't mess it up. i promise."

zayn gave him one last long look, as if searching for any trace of doubt, before he finally nodded. "alright. i'll see what i can do."

chris sank back onto the couch, his head falling back against the cushions as he let out a long breath. it wasn't much, it wasn't even close to a guarantee, but it was a chance.

and right now, a chance was all he needed.

evie speaks
double update!!