"Whoa, who's that good-looking guy?" Karel murmured to himself as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, running his fingers through his slightly tousled hair.
But when he took in his full appearance, he winced slightly. The white shirt he was wearing looked too neat, tucked perfectly under the thin black blazer he had impulsively picked out earlier that afternoon.
"Why do I look like I'm going to a job interview with this black-and-white combo?"
he muttered, loosening the top two buttons of his shirt to make it look more casual and stylish.
"Whatever, as long as I look handsome. Whose boyfriend am I, anyway? Oh, right—the handsome Mr. Arthur's" he said with a small laugh.
His hands then moved to the bottle of cologne on the dresser. He twisted the cap and spritzed the masculine fragrance onto his neck and wrists. One spray, two, three... until his entire body was enveloped in the fresh scent, mingling with the subtle aroma of his body wash.
Satisfied with his appearance, he glanced at his phone lying on the table, the screen displaying the date—April 21, 2019—and the time—7:30 PM. He took a deep breath, as if preparing for something far greater than just a dinner date.
His steps were slow as he walked out of the room. The warm glow of the hallway lights illuminated the classic, elegant walls of the house. When he reached the living room, his eyes immediately landed on the decorations he had set up earlier with Daniel's help.
The large dining table now looked even more elegant, draped with a smooth maroon tablecloth. Small red candles were scattered across the table, casting a soft, romantic glow.
Karel's footsteps slowed as he approached the tantalizing aroma of the food he had prepared—with the help of Mrs. Ashford, of course.
He paused briefly in front of the large double-door refrigerator and opened it to retrieve the birthday cake he had bought earlier. For some reason, as he looked at the cake, a sudden wave of nervousness washed over him, and his heart began to race.
After steadying his breathing, he carefully placed the number "33" candle in the center of the cake. His eyes then swept across the room, taking in the numerous red candles and the rose petals scattered around the table.
Of course, this idea had come from Mrs. Ashford, who had suggested it to add a romantic touch. Karel had thought it was a great idea and impulsively bought way too many candles and roses.
He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit each candle one by one. Once all the red candles were flickering, Karel walked over to the record player in the corner of the room. As the vinyl began to spin, the soothing sounds of classical music filled the air.
With everything ready, he turned off the main lights, letting the soft glow of the candles take over.
"Wow, ow romantic of me" he thought proudly, admiring his handiwork.
As he imagined the night ahead: dinner together, dancing, watching movies until dawn—his mind began to wander, and he couldn't help but let a bright smile spread across his face.
However, when the clock struck 8:01 PM, Karel's lips began to purse in frustration.
"Just wait, I'm not opening the door for him. Didn't he promise he wouldn't be late?" he muttered irritably, his eyes fixed on the black door beside him.
An hour passed, and the red candles that had once stood tall were now melting, leaving trails of wax dripping onto the table and floor.
Karel let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair as exhaustion and irritation swirled together in his chest.
"How could he forget... Should I remind him? Wait, I forgot his birthday too. I guess I'm even worse," he thought, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
Feeling increasingly agitated, he decided to grab his phone from the bedroom. He quickly typed out "my babe" with trembling fingers and pressed the call button, putting it on speaker.
Karel bit his lip, anxiety creeping through his body as Arthur didn't pick up.
He paced back and forth in the dining room, his eyes occasionally darting to the candles that were slowly extinguishing one by one.
"Come on, pick up," he muttered nervously. His mind began to fill with worry and negative thoughts. "Did something happen to Arthur?"
Without a second thought, Karel grabbed his motorcycle keys and rushed to the basement. He started the engine and revved it hard, a sense of foreboding gnawing at him.
Suddenly, on the main road, he saw a crowd of people and several police officers blocking the way ahead.
The road was packed, filled with shouts and the blaring of sirens.
"A raid? Maybe because of the lockdown"
He suddenly remembered that he didn't have his helmet or other papers with him because he was in a hurry.
After a moment of hesitation, he turned his bike around and took a narrow alley, searching for a shortcut to Arthur's apartment building.
When Arthur's apartment building finally came into view, Karel slowed down his bike.
Upon reaching Arthur's floor, he immediately pressed the doorbell repeatedly, his hands trembling with impatience.
But there was no sound or movement from inside the apartment.
Seeing the keypad on Arthur's door, Karel remembered that his birthday was the password. He quickly typed in "19111991" but the door remained locked.
Frustration began to rise, and this time he tried "191191," hoping it would work. But the door still didn't budge. In a fit of anger, he kicked the door hard.
As he typed the code again with shaking hands, he continued trying to call Arthur. His mind was flooded with worst-case scenarios. Arthur never disappeared without a word like this, something must have happened.
When his phone rang, he quickly swiped the green button without checking who was calling.
"Hello, Arth.."
"Young Master" the voice on the other end sounded nervous, cutting him off. "The Master has returned and is summoning you to the main house immediately. I went to your apartment, but I couldn't find you there..."
Karel fell silent for a moment. His head felt heavier, a throbbing pain beginning to pulse at his temples.
"Tch, fine. I'll head back now," he muttered angrily, unsure why the old man had returned, only adding to his frustration.
Without delay, Karel got back on his motorcycle. The cold night air whipped against his face, unprotected by a helmet.
His right hand gripped his phone tightly, repeatedly pressing the call button to reach Arthur, who still didn't answer.
He gritted his teeth in frustration. His heart raced in sync with the increasing speed of his bike.
He retraced his path through the shortcut he had taken earlier. The deeper into the night it got, the darker the road became, illuminated only by faint streetlights. His eyes stung as rain began to fall, blurring his vision.
Suddenly, a car from the opposite direction swerved too close. He barely had time to notice it before a long, blaring horn filled the air.
Reflexively, he yanked the handlebars to the left, losing control of the bike. The tires skidded across the wet asphalt.
He felt his body being thrown from the motorcycle, slamming hard onto the rough road.
Pain erupted instantly, spreading like wildfire through his body, as if thousands of needles were mercilessly piercing his flesh.
His phone flew out of his hand, landing far away, while the screeching sound of tires scraping against the asphalt made his ears ring.
His vision began to blur, and his consciousness slowly faded. Only one thought lingered in his mind—his phone, still ringing, still trying to reach Arthur.
o0o