Chapter 6

Playing: 🎶Fill the room by Maverick City Music🎶

-The Preacher-

Xander's POV

A giddy sensation overrides my being as I hum while driving, her delightful fragrance left behind after her departure helping to make my mood soar high in joy.

"Helena," I mumble, the name sounding like music to my ears. To be honest I haven't come across a lady with such a name before. I know this might seem cliche but that's the truth.

Almost entering the street leading to my home, I screech the automobile to a halt as I'm caught up in a deja-vu moment. The scenery of the preacher who caused me to have a change of heart about my life's decisions doing what he does best on the sidewalk. A Bible is in his hold as he paces the perimeter.

This spurs me to edge closer till I'm in hearing range and turn off the engine. Grateful for the tinted glass that keeps my physique and identity concealed from passersby, I lean in my seat and unwind the window of the passenger side a bit that faces the fence of someone's home to permit the voice of the preacher to reach my eardrums.

"I repeat my message to you, confess your sins, ask for forgiveness and make peace with God and your conscience."

"Turn away from the devil's path, he's got nothing to offer except everlasting doom and suffering. Yes, you might be having fun, living your best life but what happens after? When you go to the land of the dead?"

"Where you can't find salvation, where your pleas for forgiveness cannot be heard. My brethren, make hay while the sun shines they say, and experience the internal bliss that comes when you are on God's side."

"That feeling of being unbothered, no weight of your sin on your chest, no actions bothering your conscience and giving you restless moments."

"My message today is clear, confess your sins, plead to the heavenly Father for forgiveness and receive your salvation now you are alive. And to those who are already on the right path, I urge you to keep it up for the reward from God is greater than all our imaginations combined."

Once again it comes up as if I'm being spoken to directly like the information is clearly for me and me alone. I shake it off thus I'm positive other people feel the same way too.

His words continue to flow through the environment in a reminder to everyone who has the privilege to listen. I find myself nodding in the understanding that truly God speaks to us.

My attention gets attracted to my left as I observe people beginning to gather in two and three's, some even pointing fingers at my vehicle. I recognize I've drawn enough curiosity from the inhabitants of this small town and decide it's time for me to bail before someone comes knocking on my window.

Making the machine come to life I swerve hastily and zip past them, probably leaving gusts of wind behind at my speed.

************

"Charles?" I call, acknowledging John as he tugs the entrance of my house open.

"He is in the studio sir," John answers causing me to pause in my strides.

"Did he leave any food for me?" I ask, turning my position such that I'm glancing at him.

"Yeah, he asked me to inform you to check the microwave when you get home," he tells and I pat him lightly on the shoulder before I continue my steps down the hallway and into the kitchen.

"There better be something in here," I grumble my eyes fixated on the object as I stalk towards it.

My prayers are answered as I perceive the aroma of the delicious lasagna waiting for me to devour. I put on the microwave to let it warm up while I fetch a carton of half drank juice from the fridge and proceed to pour it in a glass which I set on the counter and return the juice box to the cool compartment.

Picking up a white ceramic plate I position it aside the glass tumbler and grin as the timer goes off. I grab a clean napkin and go on to retrieve the food which I transfer into the awaiting dish for me to devour.

Not bothering to shut the small door of the microwave I snatch the silverware needed and dive into the meal. A groan of contentment escapes my lips as my tongue greets the sweetness.

As always my best friend who I'm having a rethink to take that title away from him startles me by clearing his throat.

"Fuck!" I exclaim choking on my food at the abrupt presence, prompting me to gulp down half the glass of fruit juice in the hopes of saving me from the looming ruin.

"You eat like a pig," he deadpans not bothering to help my case or show concern, instead a smirk is lined on his lips as he glimpses my appearance of red face and bloodshot eyes as I tap my chest to aid in easing the constriction.

"You are evil," I grunt, gaining control of my breathing after the pain seems to have eased, my hands now planted on the edge of the counter and vision training at the plate as my appetite happens to be diminishing.

"Nothing I haven't heard before," he snorts and I switch my gaze from the white tiles my arms are stationed on and direct it at his grinning self.

"I just thought to remind you," I announce, taking in his attire of a crisp blue button-up tucked into a pair of loose-fitting shorts. "Why are you dressed that way? You look like you had a wardrobe malfunction."

"I just ended a video call session with that clothing company that wants you to model for them," he speaks, his Indian accent thick in his words. "So I had to look formal for the camera, the shorts don't matter, it wasn't going to be seen."

"Oh, why didn't you inform me?" I scrunch up a brow in inquiry.

"I messaged you, but I guess you didn't check it," he replies, folding his arms. "What we're you up to anyway?"

"I went to make peace with God," I assert, returning my attention to my food which thankfully I still have craving for.

"Good, now you can attend church with me every Sunday," he winks.

"I'm still confused about how you practice your Christianity," I shake my head at me. "It doesn't show in your actions."

"I practice mine at heart," he says sternly.

"Okay.." I drawl deciding to drop the matter.

"Why are you even eating standing?" He implores, watching me eat. "More like wolfing down your food like a maniac."

"I was hungry duh," I scoff, not allowing his playful jab to get to me.

"That's no excuse," he chuckles.

"Fuck off," I blurt, flipping him the bird, and this causes his chuckles to exceed into full-blown laughter.

"When you are done frowning and eating, you come up for rehearsal," he throws, whirling to disperse.

"Sometimes I hate my life!" I howl feeling my muscles twinge to remind me of the last time I danced.

"You have 30 minutes, if not I'll haul your ass up," he warns.

"I wonder why I made you my manager, I'm beginning to regret it now," I mutter.

"Ha!" He feigns a gasp. "Bloody hypocrite."

"Why the harsh words," I smirk.

"You hate me when I talk about work," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. "But if it's time for us to party and fuck around with girls you'll adore me."

"Who wouldn't?" I smile, imagining how it will feel to have her thick brown curves pressed hard against my chiseled ones. I'm in trouble

Freshy❤️