Mystery Man...

Since that night of confrontation, America never left her unit for once, doesn't answer any calls nor messages whether it is work-related or from her friends, doesn't want to talk to anyone. She was trying to induce herself into a deep sleep hoping that it will help her reduce the pain she had.

It's been the seventh day of her so-called hibernation when her phone reminded her that she already receive a hundred plus voice messages and text messages.

"Do you want to delete your voice messages? Press one for yes and two to play voice messages."

America was thinking if she should press one or to listen to her ranting workmates and boss for being absent for a week.

"America if you want to destroy your name, do it by your own. Don't drag my company with you bitch!"

"Hey A! You there? I'm sorry but I took half of your clients. They are all mad at you for not answering their calls. Sorry girl!"

"Miss Reyes! This is so unprofessional! If you don't want to continue working with us! Just say it! Don't make us die waiting for you to come back!"

And so on. Messages from her workmates whose informing her that they took her projects, clients ranting for her unprofessionalism, her boss bad-mouthing her rang into her ears. But only one voice call got her attention.

"America! Remove me as your immediate guardian! We are not related at all! And try answering your dumb phone. People are asking you from me! And I don't care the hell happen to you!"

That's it. That's her endpoint. She was throwing everything on her sight. Breaking everything that is near her. Until…

"So this is what you are doing?"

"What are doing here!" She asked.

The man who was leaning on the wall puffed up a cigarette and lighted it using his portable lighter. The lighter he used has the initials of 'AR' stands for her name.

"Do you think a door can stop me to see you? You have to be kidding me?"

America grabbed a vase near her and throw it towards the man leaning on the wall. But that man amazingly caught the vase. "America this is so sweet of you." He sarcastically compliments her attitude towards him.

"What are doing there! Didn't I told you that I don't want to see you anymore?"

"And why was that? You've been rejecting my calls and my messages. Of course, I'm worried about you! You made me worried to the point that I can strangle you to death because making me worry this much."

"Now that you see me, you can now go out of my house." She then put her back unto him and lay down on her bed.

"You're asking me to go out? I just arrived a few minutes ago."

"I don't have time with you." She uttered.

"Is it all because of that Cortez? Did he hurt you again? Do you know? You can tell me everything you want. I'm a good listener if you haven't ask." The man drags a chair to her bedside and sat there comfortably with his cigarette on his mouth.

"This is not Michael's fault." With her crack voice, America is trying her best not to shed another tear because of what had happened. "It's all because of the slut. If she didn't come back here! This will not happen." America is blaming everything to Zoey. Blaming her for what had Michael done.

"If she kept hiding to wherever the hell she's been hiding, Michael will never say those hurtful words to me."

"Oh! Wait! Maybe… just maybe… he was just trying to make me jealous! What you think?" Her doomed face instantly lightens up after her theory of jealousy.

"But still it is still Zoey's fault! Michael broke up with me because she appeared again in our lives!"

"We're already happy together but that motherfucker cannot keep her paws away to Michael that she still want to grab him away from me."

The man listened to all her monologues killed his cigarette to Michael's portrait on America's desk table.

"The only thing I can think of is on how I should make those who made you cry suffer. No one in this world is allowed to make you like this."