Turning Of The Tide (Natalie and Trevon)

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In the Lithern Club, as the music blared, the bar’s dim lights transformed into a mesmerizing display of

colors, casting an enchanting glow on the faces of the attractive crowd. The dance floor exuded an

irresistible air of mystery and allure.

With the rhythm of the music, the atmosphere on the dance floor reached its crescendo. The revelers

gyrated and swayed, their movements infused with an ecstatic energy that intoxicated them.

Meanwhile, in a secluded and soundproofed card room upstairs, an oasis of tranquility amidst the

cacophony below, three out of the four occupants leisurely puffed on their cigarettes. At the same time,

one donned a mask, lending an air of paradox.

Hackett had been having a remarkable streak of luck tonight. A mountain of chips towered before him

as he sported a wicked grin. “Mr. Wilson, your luck seems to have deserted you tonight. I almost feel

guilty for winning so effortlessly.”

The man continued to ignore him, his mind wandering during the card game, inevitably leading to

Hackett snatching victory. Thoughts of Natalie and her cold indifference plagued him, playing on a loop

in his mind like an unrelenting slideshow. He yearned to press the pause button, but his chest tightened

with frustration.

Despite finding Frank’s constant stream of messages utterly disdainful, he secretly engaged in the

same behavior. Day after day, he persisted in sending messages and delivering meals, desperate to

make his presence felt. However, that woman showed absolutely no inclination to acknowledge him.

His letters vanished into thin air as if they were dropped in the ocean’s deepest depths, generating no

waves of response. It was evident that he needed to adopt a different approach which was a bold

confrontation.

Unbeknownst to Hackett, Trevon was engrossed in contemplating how to win back Natalie. Ignoring

him only fueled Hackett’s determination. Today, he was in a good mood, and having a loving daughter

seemed to bring him tremendous luck. He had never won such substantial money from Mr. Wilson

before.

With a cigarette delicately held between his fingers, Frank glanced at the visibly troubled expression on

Trevon’s face. “Missing Natalie, huh?”

Trevon fixed Frank with a skeptical gaze. “Do you suddenly possess the power of mind–reading,

Frank?”

As for Natalie, Hackett suppressed his inner desires, opting to keep his secrets to himself.

Just as their stomachs inconveniently growled, rumbling incessantly, a sudden string of flatulence

followed suit. The other three individuals simultaneously turned their gaze toward Hackett, their disgust

evident on their faces, without bothering to

conceal it

Hackett had eaten a mishmash of food that day, and due to their proximity, practically anyone who took

a breath could catch a whiff of an aromatic scent.

Unable to bear the odor any longer, Frank held his breath and stood up. The stench was simply

unbearable, nearly making him feel nauseated. “What the hell have you been eating?” he exclaimed,

feeling as if the foul fragrance permeated his very

mouth.

Trevon extended his slender fingers to cover his mouth and nose, rising from his feet with a furrowed

brow. Holding his breath, he swiftly opened a window, leaning closer to inhale the fresh air, ignoring

Hackett.

Jim, donning a mask, fared relatively better than the other two who were directly assaulted by the

fragrance.

Hackett awkwardly clutched his stomach, squeezing his buttocks, and mustered a sheepish apology.

“Sorry… grumble, grumble, grumble.”

Hackett thought to himself. It was beyond his control. It seemed inevitable. He hurriedly went to the

restroom with one hand still covering his backside.

The other three individuals had lost all interest in the card game. Trevon sternly commanded Jim.

“Open the door.”

Following the order, Jim approached the door and swung it wide open. A chilly gust of wind swept in at

an angle, striking Trevon directly. In an unfortunate twist of fate, Hackett’s final emission met Trevon

head–on, causing his complexion to darken with an intense scowl. Holding his breath, he swiftly exited

the room, followed closely by Frank, who couldn’t bear the situation any longer. Jim was the last to leave. The space was now empty, with only Hackett left inside the restroom.

Just as Hackett stepped out, the room had already emptied, devoid of anyone else. Being a frequent

visitor to the Lithern

Club, he knew exactly where they had gone.

As he was about to leave, his stomach protested again, growling incessantly. It seemed another urgent

matter was at hand, so he hurriedly returned to the restroom.

Engrossed in their conversation about the ongoing issues with the commercial project, Trevon and

Frank paid no heed to the repetitive back–and–forth sounds. They smoked their cigarettes, discussing

matters related to the business street. However, Jim sensed something was amiss. It had been half an

hour, and Mr. Blackwell seemed to have vanished.

Feeling skeptical, Jim asked, “Mr. Wilson, should I check on Mr. Blackwell?”

Trevon lifted an eyebrow, casting a glance at Jim “Are you planning to deliver toilet paper? Just stay

put. If he can’t come

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out, he’ll give us a call. If he enjoys staying in there, let him be.” Trevon wondered if Mr. Blackwell’s

luck with money was indeed that good. He wanted to see if he could handle the losses.

Unable to argue with Mr. Wilson, Jim reluctantly retook his seat, silently sympathizing with Mr.

Blackwell. Perhaps losing money was for the best in Mr. Blackwell’s case,

Suddenly, Frank’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, seeing that it was Hackett calling. A wider

grin spread across his face. “Looks like he’s stuck in there.”

Trevon pulled out a cigarette, a smirk forming on his lips. “Tell the manager to bring anti–diarrheal

medicine to Hackett in the restroom”

Jim silently thanked Trevon for not sending him to check on Hackett. “Alright.”

After approximately an hour, Hackett leaned against the wall as he entered, his legs trembling. “Do

you guys have any shame, leaving ine alone over there?”

Trevon remained unfazed, his expression calm and distant. “Should I squat next to you then?”

Jim couldn’t help but let out a suppressed laugh, unable to contain his amusement.

Hackett was undoubtedly drained due to the effects of the chili peppers. He slumped onto the nearby

couch. Frank wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Take a seat on a chair. Don’t turn my couch into a stench–

filled mess and disrupt my sleep”

Once Hackett lay down, he had no desire to move. He was too exhausted, having made countless trips

to the restroom at least twenty times. “Damn it, I didn’t soil my pants again.”

Frank couldn’t resist his biting tongue. “Who knows if you even had time to drop your trousers.

Hackett exerted all his strength to flung a pillow toward Frank, but his agile hands deftly caught it.

Trevon, ever composed, couldn’t help but be curious about what had caused this predicament. “What

did you eat tonight to give yourself such an explosive reaction?”

This prompted Hackett to open up and vent his frustrations. “It’s all because of that woman, Sherri.

She practically forced me to devour a massive bowl of chili peppers”

The three individuals in the room knew that Hackett despised spicy food and typically avoided it. Their

curiosity was piqued as they wondered what could drive someone who steered clear of spice to

consume such a large bowl of chili peppers. Were his efforts an unconventional way of impressing

Sherri?

Frank couldn’t resist adding, “Are you planning to become blood brothers with Miss Landor? With chili

peppers as your

testament?”

Hackett, feeling discontent, let out a string of profanities. “Damn it, she’s just out to mess with me.”

Trevon, curious and with a hint of skepticism in his eyes, asked, “So you’re willingly allowing her to

mess with you? Go back and entertain Frank in his damn restroom.”

Hackett swiftly contemplated a strategy to divert Trevon’s attention from the actual situation. He altered

the narrative rather than revealing the truth, displaying a facade of admiration. “Isn’t it all about

demonstrating our respect for Natalie? She has a penchant for spicy cuisine, and I’m willingly

sacrificing myself to accompany her.”

Upon hearing that Natalie enjoyed spicy food, Trevon recalled the scene of her devouring durian at

Adare Manor. It wasn’t just spicy but also downright pungent. It seemned she had quite the penchant

for spicy flavors. Trevon silently considered the possibility of gradually developing his tolerance for

spicy food, making mental plans. After all, accepting chili peppers wouldn’t be out of the question.

Maintaining a poker face, Trevon inquired, “Did you have dinner with her tonight?”

Hackett couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction, showing no signs of holding back. “You got that

right. And Miss Landor. I reckon you’re mighty envious.”

With a playful tone, Trevon retorted, “Envious of your gastrointestinal adventure?

Hackett fell silent, realizing he couldn’t outwit Trevon in a battle of words. He decided to refrain from

arguing with a man consumed by jealousy By now, the manager’s anti–diarrheal medicine had

provided significant relief, easing his urge to use

the restroom

Frank cut straight to the point, asking. “So, is this your strategy for pursuing Miss Landor?”

With a slight sense of relief in his stomach, Hackett reclined on the couch, clasping his hands behind

his head. His legs felt weak, but he calmly responded, “Well, you could say that. Love means accepting

someone wholly, right? So, why not cater to her preferencey?”

Jim exposed the apparent contradiction, sensing Mr. Blackwell’s conflicting motives. “Mr. Blackwell, Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

didn’t you mention seeking revenge in your pursuit of Miss Landor? Why then go out of your way to

accommodate her tastes And in the process, you’ve even given yourself an upset stomach. It seems

like you’re chasing after her at the risk of your well–being”

Hackett was momentarily at a loss for words, unsure how to respond. He quickly spun a tale, not

wanting to embarrass

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himself before his buddies. “Well, isn’t it about striking fast and infiltrating the enemy from within?

Starting with their food

preferences seems like the quickest way.”

Jim couldn’t help but think, “Your approach to pursuing someone is quite unconventional. You’re willing

to put your life on

the line. Thankfully. Miss Landor enjoys spicy food. But what if she had a taste for something like

durian, just like Mrs. Wilson? Would you go along with that too?”

Trevon’s thoughts aligned with Jim’s. The woman had a liking for durian, but did that mean he had to

force himself to like it

too? It seemed no different from the nonsense Hackett was spouting. The thought left him with a

momentary scowl.

There had to be other ways to win someone’s heart. Hackett’s tactics weren’t for him, especially when

they involved durian, a

fruit he simply couldn’t stomach.