After her encounter with her stalker, Melanie returned to the reality of her busy life. Assignments, group projects, and also internships at several places that caught her attention and, of course had potential for her career path ahead. That was nearly making her forget the existence of those anonymous who consistently send her messages from his unregistered number.
Unknown: "Congratulations on your next step in life, Pumpkin! Journalist? That is awesome. But always be safe, okay?"
Unknown: "Have I told you before that I always love to see you working hard? But still, do not push yourself too hard."
Unknown: "Melanie, what are you doing still not in your dorm this late at night? Call it a day right now and do the rest tomorrow. Go back now. Or should I go there and pick you up myself?"
Melanie clicked her tongue and without thinking twice she immediately tidied up, preparing to head back. As she was about to descend to the ground floor, she turned around when she heard someone calling her name.
"You're still here, Mel?"
Melanie nodded and offered a friendly smile to her two colleagues, the senior journalists, who looked at her while shaking their heads and ended up reminiscing about the past when they were still Melanie's age. Walking down the stairs behind them, Melanie occasionally chimed in on their light-hearted and laughter-filled conversation.
"Where's your place, Mel? Come with us," offered one of her seniors who was untying his tie. When he noticed Melanie's hesitant and reluctant expression, he laughed. "We gotta go get some booze. I don't mind taking you back first. Or do you want to come with us?"
"Ah, no. Thanks. I'm not really fond of drinking, actually."
"Aw, such a pity! But I bet you've already tasted your first alcohol, haven't you?" asked one of her bespectacled seniors. Melanie smiled in response. "Anyway, c'mon! We don't bite. We really don't wanna see our intern just walking home at night alone."
In the end, Melanie accepted their kind offer. After giving them the address of her dorm building, the car they were in crossed through the quiet night streets.
Unknown: "Stay on your guard. It is nice you got a ride back. But still, there are two men I do not trust."
Melanie rolled her eyes, quickly typing a reply, "I do trust them. End of story."
"Who's that, Mel? Your boyfriend?"
That baseless question reflexively made Melanie shoot a sharp glare at the bespectacled man who was sitting next to driver while glancing at her through the rearview mirror. Melanie tried to deflect, saying it was just annoying spam, but the faces of both men in front looked equally disbelieving.
"No need to cover it up. That's really like what my wife did when we were youngsters back then," said the driver. "Didn't you experience that too, Bob? Or not? As I know her, Ella wasn't always like any other women who's nagging or whatever."
"You might be right. But she still did that when we were alone. I felt tricked when I realized that."
Melanie didn't pay much attention to their conversation. She didn't want to disturb their nostalgia. As long as she saw the road they were passing wasn't wrong, Melanie let both of them drown in their youthful memories.
Unknown: "They think I am your boyfriend. What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
Unknown: "Me, as your boyfriend, of course. How does that sound? Do you want to make us official?"
"There's nothing between us. Never."
Unknown: "You just do not want to admit it."
Fortunately for Melanie, the car she was in had arrived in front of her dorm building, giving her a strong reason to ignore the anonymous' messages. After thanking both of them, Melanie hurried back to her room and released her fatigue after a long day of activities.
~𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯~
Exiting the classroom, Melanie hurriedly walked down the stairs while occasionally checking her watch. She was fifteen minutes late for her internship, which required about ten more minutes of travel time from campus.
As Melanie was about to cross the street and had ensured several times that she could safely pass, a white car suddenly sped past from the right. Due to the car's quick maneuver, Melanie didn't have time to step back and ended up getting grazed, though fortunately it didn't cause her any serious injury. Several people nearby quickly surrounded Melanie, asking about her condition and helping her to stand on her feet. Meanwhile, the driver of the white car had already sped off without leaving any words of apology or anything. Melanie cursed under her breath while glancing at the direction the car had gone.
The kind people guided Melanie to the bus stop across the street before seating her on a bench. Some of them even offered to take her to the hospital. But Melanie insisted that her injury was not severe enough and she could go by herself.
As she waited for the bus, which was scheduled to arrive in five minutes, she suddenly saw a familiar car stop right in front of where she was sitting. The owner opened and closed back the car door with great anger, then walked briskly towards Melanie, lowering his head covered by a cap that obscured his eyes.
Like his sudden arrival, this tall figure in front of her wordlessly scooped Melanie into his arms, carrying her into the car. In silence, Melanie glanced at him who seemed filled with anger as he drove the car.
"Uh ... you abducted me?"
He turned his head briefly toward her, then replied curtly, "Hospital."
Hearing that word, Melanie jolt. Shaking her head, her voice a bit trembled as she said, "No, don't. I'm fine. It's just a scratch. Just take me to my workplace. I bet you know where it is."
Once again, the man behind the wheel turned his head to the side for long enough that Melanie feared the car he was driving would crash into something ahead. When he finally refocused on the road, he sighed and patted his thigh with one hand, "Put your feet here."
Melanie froze, staring at his unusual behavior. Honestly, it sent shivers down her spine. She slowly lowered her gaze, looking at his palm which this time was not covered by anything, still patting his own thigh. Driven by instinct, Melanie carefully lifted one foot and placed it on his lap which he was still able to drive without significant distraction.
"Your feet, Melanie. Where is the other one?"
If Melanie usually could respond to him without a second thought, this time she felt her courage vanish when considering doing that. Therefore, she placed her other foot where her right foot was at that moment.
With one hand, he held Melanie's feet in his lap. Then with slow movements, he began to remove the shoes she was wearing. Carefully, he gently touched, rubbed, and pressed her shins, heels, ankles, toes, and the soles of her feet. When his sharp ears caught a suppressed whimper escape from her mouth, he moved his fingers once again over the spot he had touched to ensure before moving on to the next search more thoroughly.
"Sprained ankle. Many scratches on both calves," he murmured, folding his hand over Melanie's knee. For a split second, he turned his head to the side. "You call that fine? I am sure there are more scratches on your palm from when you held your body when you fell on the asphalt, right?"
"I'm fine. I wouldn't die from just a little wound. Don't exaggerate. I can bandage it myself when I get home."
Her words were only met with a harsh exhale accompanied by a push on the gas pedal that made Melanie lurch forward from her seat. After several minutes of driving, the car pulled over in front of the first pharmacy they encountered. He exited without a word, then quickly returned while placing a white plastic bag on the dashboard. Still with silence, the car crossed the road again through the same route they had taken earlier.
"Why are we going back?" Melanie asked as she turned to look back. "Turn around! I'm already an hour late!"
"No working today. You are wounded," he replied sternly. He turned his head to the side for a moment before speaking again, "No complaints for now."
Melanie opened her mouth, but not a single word came out. She reached her phone, staring at the screen without knowing what to do. Then the idea struck her as she extended her phone to the driver who immediately responded with a frown of confusion.
"Say that to my boss. I feel no heart to inform them of my absence, even just for one day."
As he took over Melanie's phone with one hand, he spoke in a low tone while typing quickly, "Change your angelic mindset then. Give yourself priority. Hft, here. You get two days of sick leave."
Receiving her phone back, Melanie read the string of words on the screen and found no lies in what he had said. She sighed, staring blankly at the road through the tinted window beside her.