Back at the Purple Spoon, Stanley noticed Melody leaving in a hurry through an aisle. He watched Hilary dust off one of her shelves before walking over to her.

“Hey, do you know that Melody person over there?” He asked.

“Not that I know of,” Hilary shrugged. “Although that name sounds familiar.”

“I heard we have off days tomorrow, is that right?”

“Yeah, you’re correct. Why do you ask?”

“Do you have any plans that day?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have plans,” Hilary told him with a bow. “Maybe some other time we can hang out?”

“Sure thing, I don’t mind at all.” Stanley waved it off.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Hilary mentioned.

Later that night, Stanley went to clean up the floor with his mop and bucket. The light flickered up above the ceiling continuously as flies gathered around the only sources of light in the building. Stanley grabbed a stepladder from the broom closet to climb and change the light bulbs when some stepping sounds rang through his ears. He wasn’t sure where they were coming from or whose steps they belonged to, but it got louder and closer.

Stanley grabbed his mop to defend himself, but he slipped off the ladder and broke the broom in the process. He rubbed his head and sides as he got up and continued to look around the area. Stanley figured the boss wouldn’t mind if he clocked in early and rushed out of the market as quickly as possible.

.-.-.-.

The ambiance grew quiet, and the area got darker. Light poles beside the sidewalks flickered on, as if on cue. All Stanley could hear were crickets chirping and buzzing around. The moon glowed in the sky, where some clouds blocked parts of it and some stars. There were no other sources of light, not even from the buildings and stores around him.

As Stanley walked along the roads all by himself, he took out his blue phone and texted Jordan again, as if something had been dawning on him for quite a while, ever since he got out of work.

S: “Hey, be honest with me, what’s the actual reason you gave Melody that ‘sorry’ gift?”

After a while, he got a response in the text.

J: “From the goodness of my heart! What else could it be?”

S: “I don’t believe you. Surely you must’ve had some other reason?”

Jordan didn’t reply to that text. By the time Stanley reached his apartment, he had got his phone out and furiously typed again. “Where are you? Answer me!”

Stanley gave up and moaned, shoving his phone back into his pockets. He stormed up to his room and stared at the door in front of him in contempt. Stanley contemplated whether to check on Jordan or Hilary upstairs. He didn’t know for sure who to trust, either.

His phone rang, catching him off guard. Stanley hurriedly grabbed his phone to answer the call.

About time you responded. Stanley thought to himself.

However, no one answered on the other end, just panting and heavy breathing. Soon, the phone clicked, leaving Stanley utterly confused. Did he get the wrong number or something?

That was then, Stanley came to realize: something wasn’t right. Hilary had plans tomorrow, Jordan kept leaving him in the dark and not answering anything, and everyone around him acted strangely. No, it couldn’t be a coincidence; somebody must be up to something. But what?

As he entered his room and changed into cyan pajamas, Stanley figured he had to get to the bottom of things. He wasn’t sure how, but he had to start somewhere. Right now, it didn't seem like a good time to question it. Hilary was probably asleep with Jordan still sick. He shrugged it off and waited until the next day to talk to others about it. Stanley set his alarm and tried to get some sleep while thinking about the possibilities that everyone could be planning behind his back.