"Okay, I've got the drinks!" I announce, nudging my bedroom door open with my foot while carefully balancing the tray in my hands. The room's already buzzing with laughter and chatter as my friends lounge on my bed and floor, throwing pillows at each other like we're still kids.
"Finally!" Sloan groans, flopping dramatically onto her back. "I was starting to think you got lost in your own kitchen."
"Or poisoned them," Adara adds with a smirk, her voice dripping with mock suspicion. She's curled up in the corner of my bed, clutching a pillow like it's a weapon. "Maybe she's tired of us already."
"You're lucky I didn't," I shoot back, rolling my eyes with a small smile as I set the tray down on my desk. "And if anyone spills on the carpet, you're explaining it to my mum." I hand out the glasses, keeping the lighter one for myself.
Cara raises her drink with a grin. "To surviving another week of life!"
"Cheers!" we echo, clinking our glasses together with dramatic flair before taking our first sips.
But barely a moment passes before Leila downs hers in one go, setting the empty glass on my desk with a loud clink. Her eyes light up with mischief as she looks at all of us.
"You know what we should do?" she asks, her voice dropping into that tone that says nothing good will come of this.
"Oh no," I mutter, sinking back against the headboard.
"Prank calls," Leila says, grinning like a madwoman. "We call random people and mess with them!"
Adara gasps, practically bouncing in her spot. "Yes! That's genius."
Cara tilts her head thoughtfully. "Okay, but how random are we talking? Like, pulling numbers out of thin air or digging through someone's contacts?"
Sloan snickers. "Does it even matter? Let's do it!"
I groan, shaking my head as they start huddling together, already scheming. "We're adults, remember? Prank calls are, like, twelve-year-old behavior."
Adara waves me off. "Come on, we're not that mature. Besides, it's fun! Live a little, Amara."
"Not with my phone," I say firmly, raising an eyebrow.
"Obviously not," Leila says, rolling her eyes. "We're using Adara's. She's the baby of the group, so if anyone gets in trouble, it's her."
"Rude," Adara huffs, but she's already unlocking her phone and scrolling through her contacts.
I watch them with a mix of amusement and mild dread. They're laughing and shoving each other like we're all still kids, but there's this nagging feeling in the back of my mind—like we're about to cross some invisible line without realizing it.
Still, I let myself sink into the moment, sipping my drink as they argue over who to call first. What's the worst that could happen?
"So... do I just dial a random number or what?" Adara asks, holding up her phone and glancing at Leila for guidance, since this whole thing was her idea.
"I don't know, yeah. Just press some random numbers," Leila says with a shrug, her grin already mischievous.
"Wait," I interject, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them. "Don't you think this is a bad idea?" That gut feeling is back, stronger this time, like a warning I can't ignore.
"Don't worry," Sloan says with a smirk, patting my back. "C'mon, don't be such a pussy."
I groan, crossing my arms. "Fine. Whatever." If they're going through with this, I want no part of it.
Adara snickers and presses a random sequence of numbers, and I lean back against the headboard, determined to stay uninvolved. But when the sound of the phone ringing fills the room, my ears perk up despite myself.
Leila clamps her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. The others exchange amused glances, but I can't help but think: What's there to laugh about? What if this goes wrong?
The ringing stops.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end is deep and husky, instantly commanding attention. My heart skips a beat as I sit up straighter. It's not just a voice—it's the kind of voice that could stop you in your tracks.
Cara catches my eye and mouths, Hot.
I shake my head at her, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. She's not wrong. He does have a nice voice. Too nice, almost. Something about it feels... sharp, like a blade hidden in silk.
"Who is this?" the voice asks, low and calm, but there's an edge to it. It's the kind of tone that makes you feel like you're already in trouble, even if you've done nothing wrong.
Leila leans closer to the phone, whispering something to Adara, but I can't focus on what she's saying. All I can think about is how wrong this feels. That voice—it doesn't sound like someone you prank call. It sounds like someone you stay far, far away from.
A groan comes through the speaker, low and irritated. "Hello?" The voice is deep and husky, with a distinct edge of annoyance and irritation, like we've already ruined his night.
Adara straightens when Leila nods, holding back a laugh as she switches to a falsely professional tone. "Hi, sir! We're calling from Diapers Direct regarding your recent order for... uh... extra-large adult diapers."
Leila slaps her hand over her mouth, shaking with silent laughter, while Sloan almost falls off the bed. I sit up straighter, my gut churning uneasily. This isn't funny—it's just mean.
There's a pause on the line before the man speaks again, slower this time, his irritation palpable. "What?"
Adara mutes the call, barely containing herself. "Oh my god, he sounds so pissed," she whispers, grinning. "This is going to be hilarious."
"Adara," I say quietly, glancing at the screen. "Seriously, just hang up. This feels... weird."
"Relax, Amara," Sloan drawls, patting my shoulder. "It's a joke. He'll live."
Adara un-mutes the call, clearing her throat dramatically before putting on an even higher-pitched voice. "Yes, sir, your order for the extra-absorbent, size D adult diapers has been delayed due to unforeseen circumstances. Heavy rain, you know how it is."
Cara snorts, muttering, "What does rain have to do with diapers?" but the rest of the group is losing it, barely holding themselves together.
This isn't funny. I don't wanna be a party pooper or anything... I just think that this is ridiculous.
The man's voice cuts through again, sharper now. "Is this a joke?"
Adara doesn't miss a beat. "Oh, no, sir. This is a very serious matter. Your... uh... bed-wetting supplies are en route, but we'd like to offer you some alternatives in the meantime." She pauses for effect, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. "May I recommend women's sanitary pads? Or perhaps tampons for... targeted protection?"
That's it—Leila completely loses it, letting out a loud snort of laughter. Sloan collapses against the bed, clutching her stomach. Even Cara is wheezing now, though she tries to cover her mouth.
But me? I'm frozen. Something about the guy's silence feels off.
Finally, he speaks, his voice calm and disturbingly low. "I see. And do you girls think this is funny?"
Adara grins, nodding at the phone like he can see her. "Oh, absolutely, sir. Don't worry—we're here to help with all your nighttime needs."
Leila jumps in, giggling. "Maybe we should send you a sippy cup too. Y'know, just in case you spill anything."
Sloan howls with laughter, and Adara has to mute the call to catch her breath.
"Guys, stop," I whisper urgently. "Seriously, just hang up. This isn't funny anymore."
But Adara shakes her head, un-muting the phone again. "Sir, would you like us to add that sippy cup to your order? Or perhaps some baby wipes? They're great for sensitive skin."
There's a long pause, and I swear I hear something faint in the background—a soft metallic clicking noise. My stomach drops.
"You're awfully brave," the man finally says, his tone colder than before. "Playing games with a stranger in the middle of the night."
Adara blinks, momentarily thrown off, but quickly recovers. "Oh, please. What are you gonna do? Cry to customer service?"
The man chuckles, low and humorless. "No, but I do believe in... teaching lessons."
The knot in my stomach tightens as I glance at Cara. Her face mirrors my unease now, and she's no longer laughing.
"Adara," I whisper urgently, trying to grab the phone. "Hang up. Right now."
But Adara ignores me, grinning as she delivers the final blow. "Well, sir, I hope your diapers arrive soon. Wouldn't want you wetting the bed again, now, would we?" She laughs, leaning back triumphantly.
The man chuckles again, sending chills down my spine. "Oh, don't worry, little girl. I'll be seeing you soon."
The line goes dead.
Silence falls over the room as the weight of his words sinks in. My heart pounds in my chest, and I feel Cara's hand grip my arm tightly.
Adara breaks the tension with a dismissive shrug, brushing it off. "Creepy much? Anyway, who's next?" She grins, glancing around the room like nothing happened.
"You guys shouldn't have done that," I say softly, my voice trembling slightly as I look at each of them.
Leila raises an eyebrow, tilting her head. "Why not? It was fun." She smirks, clearly unfazed.
Sloane nods in agreement, leaning back against the wall with a casual grin. "Yeah, Amara. Chill. It's just some random guy—we probably made his night more interesting."
I shake my head, hugging my knees to my chest. "It didn't feel right."
Cara, who's been fixing up the blankets, glances over her shoulder. "Bruh, guys, let's just sleep. I'm tired as fuck, and I don't want to hear about adult diapers ever again."
Adara snickers, flopping onto the bed dramatically. "Fine, fine, but you've got to admit—it was hilarious."
I don't respond, my eyes flicking to the phone on the bed. My gut twists again, the man's voice replaying in my head.
I'll be seeing you soon.
It wasn't a joke. I can feel it.
I sigh and nod slowly, Cara gently pats my shoulder and flops down onto the bed.
. ‧₊˚ ⋅*ₓ˚. ˚○◦˚‧₊✮‧₊˚◦○˚ .˚ₓ₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊• .
Cara lies next to me, already half-asleep, and Leila is curled up on the sofa. Sloane and Adara are sprawled on the mattress on the floor, oblivious to the pit forming in my stomach. Their laughter from earlier plays in my head, mixing with the deep, unsettling voice of the man they called.
I can't ignore it. That voice wasn't just annoyed—it was dangerous.
Fidgeting with the edge of my blanket, I glance at Adara's phone on the nightstand. The thought festers in my mind: maybe if I explain, I can smooth things over. Before I second-guess myself, I grab the phone and slip into the bathroom, locking the door behind me quietly, making sure I don't wake the girls up.
My hands shake as I dial his number. Each ring feels heavier, like a countdown to something I don't understand.
Finally, the call connects.
Silence greets me, heavy and unnerving. My heart thunders in my chest as I force myself to speak. "Hello? Um, sir? I... I wanted to apologise for what my friends did." My voice wavers, but I push through. "You see they were drunk and didn't know... or realise what they are doing."
For a moment, there's nothing. Then, a low chuckle seeps through the speaker, cold and sharp like the edge of a blade.
"You want to apologise for them?" he repeats, his tone mocking. "How considerate. But tell me, little one, do you always clean up after your friends' messes?"
Little one? The nickname sends a jolt through me, and I grip the phone tighter. "I-I just thought it was the right thing to do," I stammer.
A hum vibrates through the line, thoughtful but laced with malice. "So, the little girl thinks she's a hero," he muses. "Let me guess—you couldn't sleep because of your guilty conscience?"
I don't think I'm a hero... I mean I just felt bad for what they said to you. No need to be mean to me, I didn't do anything. I did try to tell them to stop!
His words hit too close to home, and I swallow hard. "I'm sorry, they didn't mean what they said. I promise. It was just a stupid joke." They did mean it, my friends—especially Adara and Leila—does not care about others feelings.
"A stupid joke." His voice drops, each word heavier than the last. "Do you think I'm a fucking clown? Someone to waste time on your stupid childish games?"
What?? No!!!
"No! I-I didn't mean it like that—"
"Then how did you mean it, little one?" he snaps, his voice like a whip. "You call me, waste my time, mock me—and now you think an apology is enough?"
The weight of his fury presses down on me, making it hard to breathe. My throat tightens as I scramble for words. "I... I just felt bad!! I-I'm sorry for what they did, I... I just want to make it right." I usher out, stuttering.
Silence stretches again, suffocating and unbearable. My nerves spikes, why isn't he saying anything?! I glance around twirling a strand of hair around my finger nervously. Then he laughs, low and humorless.
"Make it right," he repeats. Uh.. yeah? But the amusement in his tone makes my skin crawl. "You think you can make this right? How sweet. But I'm afraid it's too late for that."
My heart plummets. "What do you mean?"
There's a sound on the other end of the line—a faint click, like a lighter or a weapon being readied.
"I mean," he says, his voice dark and final, "in two minutes, I'm going to walk into your house and teach your little friends a lesson they'll never forget."
The room feels colder, and the phone trembles in my hand.
"M-my friends... a lesson? Y-You're lying," I whisper, though my voice cracks.
"Am I?" His tone is calm now, almost casual, and that makes it worse. "Let's see... I'll give you a pass, little one. Or, you have one hundred and twenty seconds to find out just how serious I am. Better start running."
The call disconnects with a soft beep.
I stand there, frozen, the phone slipping from my hands and landing on the counter with a hollow clatter. My legs feel weak, my chest heaving as his words echo in my head: Better start running.
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