14 TIKTOK: 1:30/2:00 (1/2)

It took us another ten minutes or so to reach the villa. I asked Priscilla if she needed something before going to bed, but she shook her head in denial. She started climbing the stairs lazily, while I followed her so that she may not fall down. On top of the flight, Priscilla took right and headed for the bedroom, while I turned left and headed towards the kitchen.

I clapped my hands to turn on the lights of the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and took out the milk. I poured some in the pan to heat. My eyes were getting heavier by the moment. The glass of milk will give me enough energy to make one phone call.

I took the phone out of my pocket and dialed a number. It rang for a long while before I could hear a familiar voice.

”It takes a lot of guts to call your friend after two years. Where the hell have you been?” Trigman questioned.

”On the road. Promoting my talent. Don't you read the news?”

”I do. I have heard some good news about your penmanship. How are you doing?”

”Crappy. It is busy, but I think I'll be taking some time off. I'll be in Nepal by next week.”

”With your girlfriend?”

”No. Just me.”

”Why alone?” Trigman's playful tone vanished and his stern, concerning tone asked me a question I hoped he wouldn't ask.

With trembling lips, I answered him, ” Just because.”

Trigman didn't speak for a while before I heard him sigh.

”Mistakes of yesterday destroying a tomorrow. Is it that time of your life again?.”

Tears started forming in my eyes as I replied,” Prepare a spare bed for me.”

Trigman waited a long time before hanging up. He didn't say anything, but I understood everything he was going to say.

I turned around and poured hot milk in a mug. Before I could face Priscilla, I wiped away my tears and threw extra hair over my face.

I picked the mug, sighed a little, and pasted a smile over my face.

I entered our room to see Priscilla asleep. Just looking at her in her slumber warmed my heart. But I had to do what was necessary. It was not a time for second thoughts.

I came near Priscilla's lump body and touched her forehead. I rang fingers all over her eyes and in her hair before retreating to the lobby.

I whipped open my laptop and waited for it to power up. In the meantime I texted my lawyer, my accountant as well as Cline of what I wanted them to do. The laptop was powered up and I put my cellphone aside to open up four websites.

HipHopDX.com

WorldTrades.com

MIS.com

Atlanticbank.com

On HipHopDX, I started looking for the industry journalist that covered Priscilla's articles. After some browsing I came across two editors who were exclusively covering P.A. as their topic. Drew Landry and Martin Row. I e-mailed both of them to meet me in two days at a Bronze Coffee Parlor at 11 A.M.

On WorldTrades, I looked at my stocks in NASDAQ, gold, silver and Facebook. I wasn't making an overall profit, but I decided to sell everything. I'm going to need money, and abundance of it never hurt anybody. I suffered a loss of US $225,778, but I got US $ 2.7 million. I was happy with it.

My cellphone chimed and it was Cline, still denying his new positing as Priscilla's songwriter. I convinced him some more and told him to meet me two days later at Bronze Coffee Parlor at 11 A.M.

MIS.com was a gambling website, where people bet on music talent all over the world. Nobody affiliated with the talent could bet on their own artist, but I had bent the rules because Priscilla's sales numbers had been a chart topper from the day her mixtape dropped. I logged in as Mapalla, because that is what I was on this website, and looked at my winnings. US$ 33,450. I entered my banking details and got everything deposited in my account.

At last, I logged into my Atlantic Bank's website to look at my savings and earnings. US $ 4.47 Million. All this money was mine. Every single penny made by grinding everyday. I made this money by making Priscilla a superstar, and I deserved every single dime for my efforts.

After looking at my astonishing amount of money, I e-mailed a 24/7 hotline worker. I took down all the details that I required to withdraw all the money. It was a process which will take three days, and some documents would also be required. I took down all the details and thanked the person on the other side.

I turned my laptop off and my cellphone chimed once more. It was my lawyer, asking me if everything was alright. I stepped out of the lobby and went outside the front gate to call him.

”Mr. Goodman, I want to know what the cost of my house in Miami and San Francisco is?”

In a raspy voice, he answered,” I don't have the exact number, but according to the estimate, it'll probably be in the ballpark of $1.1 Million for both.”

”Get me the exact number by tomorrow. I mean, today. It's already past 12.”

”That's what I was going to say. You're asking the price of your house like the Feds are coming to seize them. Is everything fine?” He asked.

”Yes, everything is fine. Just, give me the number by tomorrow.” Saying that, I hung up the phone.

My eyes felt heavy once again. The strength given to me by the milk was already reaching its end. I looked at the time on my phone.

2:07 A.M.

I pocketed the phone and looked up in the cloudy sky.