Malone
November
My phone ringing beside me is annoying as I’m trying to schedule these posts to Slater’s charity’s Instagram account. This is the third time someone from this number has called, and they won’t leave a message. Typically, I don’t answer, but I’m at the end of my rope.
“Hello?” There’s an edge to my voice, and the caller takes a second to speak.
“Is this Malone Fulcher?”
Since the paparazzi incident, I’ve not wanted to give any information out about myself unless I know who I’m speaking with. “May I ask who’s calling.”
“David Evans, I take it you remember me.”
The fucker who fired me. Holy shit, why is he calling me now? I’m torn between wanting to yell at him, and wanting to hang up on him.
“This is Malone, how can I help you?” I do my best to keep my voice even, but I really want to rage at this asshole.