The Evil Incarnate

The tears that refused to fall only made him look conflicted. "What are you doing here?"

Elio blinked then, confused by his question. Did he forget already?

"I was just helping you get through your panic attack–"

"Lie!" he snarled, "I don't have a panic attack."

Now, what was he talking about?

"Uhm …"

Truthfully, she didn't know what to say.

On one hand, it was not advisable to inform someone they just had a panic attack as it may cause them to feel ashamed and afraid to seek help if that happens again.

On the other hand, the blue-eyed man was denying what had just happened to him with clear distaste. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he didn't remember anything about his panic attack.

Didn't know what to do exactly, Elio merely brought their still linked hands up to their eye level.

"As I said, I was helping you get through your panic attack."

Instead of recognition, he unceremoniously wrenched his hand and shoved her away from his side. Her back hit the safety guard so hard that she grunted in pain. "Get lost!"

Elio frowned at the hostility, dreading the bruise that would surely latch on her back tomorrow. Where was that silent man who just had a panic attack?

"Did you fake that?"

The blue-eyed man glared daggers at her and rose to his feet. "I said get lost!"

Mirroring him, she stood and held her ground. "I can't believe you just pretended to have a panic attack. That's not cool, you know?"

His glare intensified – she didn't know it was impossible for him. "I don't care. Just get out of my sight and forget this entire thing ever happened!"

Elio's face turned sour, anger started to flare in her chest. She went after him out of concern and helped him through his panic attack. This was all she got?

"Well, I don't want to see you again, either. You're just a scum who pretended to have a panic attack then! I hope you don't have a good night's sleep ever again!"

With one last glare to match his own, Elio turned on her heel and headed to the door.

"Wait!"

The brown haired girl considered ignoring him, but she heard footsteps and her hand was jerked back. "Let me go!"

"Is that your phone?"

"Are you accusing me of stealing your phone now?"

"Give me your phone."

"What? No!"

The nerve of that man. Elio didn't know what to think of him again. Screw him and his nonexistent panic attack. He was a fake, all around. If he was – by chance – an actor, then this studio was a very fitting place for him to be.

"Give me your damn phone!"

"No!" Elio yanked her hand back, releasing his bruising grip. "What's wrong with you?"

"Why did you have your phone out?"

That was a strange question to ask.

"What? I can't have my own phone in my hand, now?"

The blue-eyed man bristled, "If you dare to record me–"

'So that's what this is about?'

Devising a plan, Elio bluffed, "I already did, so what?"

He fell silent. Frozen with his striking blue eyes wide. Terror, not like the previous one when he 'pretended' to be in panic, settled there. "Delete it right now or you'll regret your life."

"No."

"I said–"

"I heard what you said!" Elio cut him, trying not to be intimidated by his larger stature and domineering posture.

He was almost a head taller than her. With his noticeable atlethis build, it wouldn't be hard for him to take her out in a fight. Even so, she couldn't let herself be threatened by him.

"Elio Greys, if you don't give me your phone right now, I'll make sure you get fired first thing tomorrow."

"Lucky me, I don't work here. I'm only here to join the scriptwriting workshop."

His jaw clenched. She could see his knuckles white. He looked like a tomato ready to explode any second now.

However, he suddenly relaxed. A smirk slowly morphed on his lips. He was delighted.

She didn't know what caused this change – oh shit. Did she just say that?

"I mean–"

"The scriptwriting workshop, you said?"

Elio gulped, holding her breath. "N- no, I mean, I don't–"

The blue-eyed man's smirk was fully formed now. What a vicious sight. "Give me your phone now or you can say goodbye to your workshop."

Panic settled in her gut. She couldn't let him do that. Besides, "Hah! As if you can kick me out of the workshop. I bet you're just a new extra who practised for your role here. You can't make me!"

"Just so you know, I'm–"

He suddenly stopped, clamming his mouth shut with fury laden words on the tip of his tongue.

"You're what?" She challenged, "That's right. You can't make me!"

He growled in the back of his throat, raising his fist as if he was about to hit her, but brought it down again in fury.

Even so, it occurred to her that the blue-eyed man looked desperate to have her phone. So, the panic attack was real and he was trying to brush it off and make her forget.

The memory of those striking blue eyes brimming with tears and his sudden change of behaviour bothered her.

'must be one of those guys who think that men shouldn't have panic attacks.'

With that in mind, Elio decided to reach out to him. "How about this, you stay away from me and I'll erase the video after my workshop is done?"

He faltered, looking right into her eyes with those striking blue of his. Cold fury danced in them. He sneered in displeasure. "What makes you think that I'd trust you?"

"I just helped you get through your panic attack. If I'm as bad as you think, which sounds like nonsense to me, why would I do that?"

He took his time to think about it, Elio almost called it off. But he did agree in the end. "Don't think you can mess with me until then."

"Unlike you, I'm not an ungrateful bully," Elio said, shoving her dead phone inside her shoulder bag.

Elio thought that would be it, but the blue-eyed man turned to grab a bucket near his feet. He dumped the entire content on her – wetting her shirt with red. She gasped in shock. "What the hell?!"

The blue-eyed evil incarnate looked down at her, all white teeth and menacing grin. "Serves you right."

"You!"

"It's a deal. Until then."

And he left her dripping wet in red.