Claire knocked on Ethan's door over and over, her knuckles echoing through the hallway.
"Come on, open up!"—she whispered, glancing around nervously as if she were sneaking into enemy territory.
When the door finally opened, Ethan stood there, hair a mess, brows furrowed, clearly not awake enough for whatever chaos awaited.
"Claire? What the hell are you doing making so much noise this early?"
She didn't answer. She slipped inside, shutting the door behind her with a grin that could've powered the whole dorm."I have the best news for you!"
Ethan rubbed his eyes, groaning. "You've completely lost it. It's not even daylight yet."
Claire grabbed his shoulders and shook him, bouncing in excitement. "Isaac said yes! He agreed to be your model!"
Ethan froze for half a second, then his eyes flew open wide. "Wait—seriously!? Don't mess with me, Claire!"
"I'm not kidding! I literally just came from his dorm. Neat, spotless, smells like cinnamon. I swear."
They both started jumping, hands clasped like two kids who'd just pulled off a miracle. Sleep was gone, replaced by adrenaline and a grin that refused to fade from Ethan's face.
"But—how the hell did you get him to say yes?"
Claire hesitated, eyes darting to the side. "Well… there's a tiny detail I might've forgotten to mention."
Ethan's enthusiasm faltered.—"What detail?"
She raised a finger like she was buying time, then sighed and confessed everything, from the bar, the card, to the part about money.
"Money!?" Ethan blurted, almost choking. "I never said we were paying him!"
"I know, I know! But apparently, Dante did." She crossed her arms, huffing in exaggerated frustration.
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his temples. "Did he say how much?"
Claire shook her head. "No number. I didn't offer anything either. I wanted to talk to you first. But Ethan…" she leaned forward, her tone softening "he's perfect for this shoot. His eyes are unreal."
Ethan sighed. "Alright. We'll see what he asks for. It can't be that bad, it's just one photoshoot."
Seconds later on the phone.
"Ten thousand!?" Ethan almost yelled, his face frozen in disbelief.
On the other end, Isaac's voice was distant and completely unbothered.
"That's the price. If not, there's no deal."
"W-wait! Okay, fine. Ten thousand. But you have to commit to the project, alright?" Ethan tried to sound confident, but his voice cracked halfway.
"No problem. As long as you pay."
Ethan frowned. So it's really just about money…"Fine. I'll send you the details later."
"Good. I'll send my bank info. Once the money lands, we start."
He hung up before Ethan could respond.
Ethan stared at the phone in disbelief. Claire, sitting beside him, looked equally stunned.
"Did he just hang up?"
"He hung up," Ethan repeated flatly.
They exchanged glances. It wasn't that they couldn't pay, both came from wealthy families, but explaining a transfer like that was another story. The only one who could throw money around without blinking was Dante.
"Have you heard from him?" Claire asked quietly.
Ethan shook his head. "Nothing. Since his mom dragged him home, no calls, no messages. He's completely disappeared."
Claire sighed, her worry showing. They both missed him. But now, they needed him, especially Ethan.
"Ugh! Why the hell did Dante have to offer money?" Ethan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "He just made everything harder!"
Claire chuckled softly."It's Dante. It'd be weird if he didn't cause trouble."
Her smile lingered for a second before fading into thought. "And judging by how Isaac reacted, I bet Dante wasn't exactly… polite when he made that offer."
Ethan nodded, lost in thought. For a moment, silence filled the room.Both of them were thinking the same thing: Where the hell are you, Dante Black?
They spent the rest of the afternoon blowing up Dante's phone, calls, texts, emails, even his socials. Nothing...
Until finally, the phone rang back.
"It's him!" Claire gasped, practically diving toward Ethan's bed.
Ethan answered immediately. On the other end, Dante's voice sounded exactly the same as always, confident, cocky, and infuriatingly smug.
"You two really can't survive a few days without hearing my lovely voice?"
Ethan let out a relieved laugh. "You know we can't."
Before he could say anything else, Claire snatched the phone. "Idiot! Why haven't you answered my messages or calls!? Do you have any idea how worried we've been!?"
There was a pause, then Dante's laugh came through the speaker, genuine and warm. "Hey, Claire. I haven't checked my messages. I've been using a different phone here, that's why I didn't see your calls."
His voice was softer this time, more sincere.
Claire bit her lip. Ethan noticed her eyes glisten slightly. "We missed you, you jerk. How are you? Are they treating you well?"
"Better than ever," he said dryly, sarcasm clear as day. "Now tell me, crybabies, what's this about?"
Ethan grabbed the phone again, his words spilling out fast. "Some crazy redhead offered to pay Isaac, and now that he's my model he's asking for ten thousand up front!"
"Hey, hey, slow down…" Dante chuckled, his calm tone only making Ethan's frustration worse. "So the emo said yes, huh? Then what's the problem?"
"Are you kidding me!? I can't just hand over ten thousand!"
Dante's laughter echoed through the speaker, smooth and unbothered. "I was the one who offered the money, wasn't I? Relax, I'll pay him. Just send me his account."
Ethan and Claire exchanged a stunned look. He said it so casually, like he was talking about buying a sandwich.
In the background, muffled voices and some movement could be heard, maybe a car, maybe people nearby. Then Dante's tone shifted, just slightly. "I've gotta go. Tell me how it goes with your big victory, alright? Good luck, Eth."
"Wait, Dant—!" Claire tried to call out, but the line had already gone dead.
She sighed, letting the phone fall onto the bed. "What's wrong with people today? Does no one say goodbye anymore?"
Ethan chuckled softly, glancing sideways at her. But the smile didn't reach his eyes.
His mind was somewhere else.
What was he doing right now?
Was he really okay?
And was it right to let him pay all that money… when this was his dream, not Dante's?
The thought lingered like static in the room—unspoken, but heavy.