「5」You Are A Sinful Man (Part 1)

LEON

THE instant when Sheldon answered his phone, I said, “It’s me.”

“Hi. What’s up with the abrupt call, Leon?” my boyfriend asked from the other line.

“I’m going to have my phone checked today, Sheldon. I’m telling you now in case you can’t reach me later,” I said to him.

“Oh, right. Did it malfunction in some way?” he asked.

“Not really. I’m not yet aware of what’s wrong. I’ll call you back when it’s done,” I said, and overheard him sigh. It was subtle but loud enough for me to hear.

“Leon, do you have a moment to chat briefly?” he begged, which surprised me.

“Go on,” I concurred and perched on the edge of my bed, noting that I wasn’t in a rush anyway.

“Well… I get that you are busy and you’re almost done shooting your movie, but can I ask why you didn’t answer my calls the other day?” he calmly asked.

“Huh?” I was dumbfounded and confused. “You called? What time?” I asked him back.

“Around eight in the evening, maybe? I called many times, but you didn’t pick up at all. Did you put it on silent? You didn’t bother asking me the next day why I called, too. So… I got worried,” he explained. It shocked me.

“Hang on, Sheldon. I’m going to put you on hold for a while and have a quick look in my call history. Okay?” I said. He agreed then I immediately rummaged through my phone.

I gasped when I found no records of Sheldon calling me at the time he told me that he did. I had no memory of deleting my call histories so it should register here.

I put Sheldon back on the line again, and tried my very best not to panic. “Sheldon? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” he softly responded.

“Um… I can’t find any missed call history. I must have deleted them by accident. Sorry for worrying you,” I lied to him, but my mouth trembled as I told him those lies. If possible, I didn’t want to worry him more than he already was.

“Is that so?” he sounded unsatisfied. “Alright. If anything is bothering you, don’t hesitate to tell me, Leon. I love you very much,” Sheldon comforted, and made me feel guilty for lying to him. He then ended our call.

“I am the worst boyfriend,” I insulted myself. Soon after that, I left.

━━━━━━ ◦ ◦ ━━━━━━

I DIDN’T expect the city to be this busy. Everywhere I went, I saw posters of our upcoming movie. It made me sick, to be honest. Director Kim told me that this movie would be my big break if we hit the highest views when the premiere started.

Natasha, as an actress and co-worker, was indeed an excellent woman. She did her role well as Helena. She played the victim role so perfectly that it would certainly blow the minds of the viewers in the future. This film would be a success without a doubt. But I also expected that I might drag it down. Given the unusual circumstances that have been happening to me, and my overall mental state, I knew to myself that I was being held back at acting. I wish Director Kim would notice before I ruin the ending of the movie.

Setting it aside, I made sure not to stand out in public. To hide my identity, I wore a black face mask, tinted sunglasses, and cap to cover most of my face. I didn’t prep my hair too, and let down my natural wavy locks. I wore a plain white t-shirt, and wore a plain black jacket with a hoodie over it. I wore faded blue jeans, and a pair of khaki colored slip-on shoes.

[I wonder if I look suspicious,] I thought, and turned my head from left to right.

I searched for a cellphone repair shop on my way. As much as possible, I would like to choose the one with less people, to minimize the chance of them recognizing me.

I put my phone on silent again, to avoid distractions while I was out. After strolling for about fifteen minutes straight, I was able to find the right shop. I entered right away and wasted no time. I wanted to get this done, and hoped that it was all just a system error in my device that caused all that unintentional unanswered messages and missing call histories.

“Good morning,” a lady worker greeted me when I opened the door to their shop. “Can I help you, Sir?” she politely asked.

I grabbed my sling bag and took out my phone, and showed it to her. “It’s my phone. Even though I’m not using it, my chat conversations open by themselves. My friends complained that I keep seeing their messages, but never reply in return. My call histories are also disappearing without me deleting them,” I explained, and handed her my phone.

The lady accepted it and asked me, “The storage is not yet full, or is it?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t really use it that much,” I told her.

“You didn’t drop it or maybe accidentally submerged it into a container full of water, Sir?” she inquired. All I did was shake my head sideways. “Okay. Sir, I need you to remove the lock of your phone while I test it and find out what’s wrong. But if you are worried about your privacy, you can watch me while I do it. I’ll just hand you the phone if it needs to be unlocked,” she informed.

“Will it take you too long to fix it?” I asked.

She then mentally calculated the estimated time before saying, “About 5 to 10 minutes, Sir. But if I find an error in the system, it may take days. Is that alright with you?” she said.

[What choice do I have? I just want this misunderstanding to end. I don’t want to acknowledge that I’m going insane because of something so trivial,] I thought.

“It’s fine. You can start now,” I permitted her, and the lady went ahead.

I kept checking on my wristwatch the whole time. As each minute passed by, my anxiety grew stronger. I just wanted to reassure myself, and avoid tainting my relationship with the people around me. I didn’t want them to think that maybe I hated them, and used my phone as an excuse to cut them off.