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Cecilia leaned back into the leather seat of her office chair, aimlessly twirling a strand of her locks with her index and thumb. The clock ticking, the clamoring voices of others deafening. She lets out an exasperated sigh, shutting her eyes and dropping her shoulders. She waited patiently for this cursed meeting to end, eager to continue binge-reading her favorite book. Cecilia's lip twitched upon feeling someone clear their throat, trying to get her attention. Her eyelids fluttered open, turning her entire head to face that person who dared interrupt her moment of peace.

"Yes?" A touch of coldness in her tone. "If you're asking for an investment, I must decline humbly." She didn't even wait for the man to speak, as if already knowing what he was about to ask for.

The man was puzzled before he cleared his throat to rid his shock. He cordially spoke to her to appease the agitated woman, "My Lady. I know you had bad experiences with those you invested in, but I assure you, this project will be successful. Better than that last." He leaned forward in his seat, silently demanding her attention. "I must ask of you to at least consider it."

Cecilia senses desperation just from his gaze alone despite such a confident tone he presented. The corner of her lips curled in a small smile, a soft chuckle leaning her as she slanted in her seat. "Бег." That was all she said in response to his question. "Pardon?" He inquired, tilting his head as a scowl formed on his aging face. "Бег." She repeated, her lips coiling into a sly smile, exposing her pearly whites more. The others went quiet, their anxious gazes shifting between Cecilia and the man. "I want you to beg for my help. I want to see how daring you'll be to gain both my favor and wealth."

The man's scowl deepened, and she could see his jaw clench. "You want me, Lord Kingston, to beg like some commoner?" Slowly, he rose from his seat, his hands slammed down on the table with a loud thud. "How dare you think I would stoop so low to plead in such a way?!" His voice shattered, his words messily jumbled as he allowed his anger to speak for him. Cecilia crossed her legs together, unconcerned about the building danger in his trembling voice. She hummed while tugging at her hair that she'd been fiddling with since the meeting started. "Yes," She teased and smiled joyously as her silver eyes gradually filled with colors.

"Show me how badly you want my help. Prove to me that you deserve my investments...and me." Her eyelids narrowed, the shine in her eyes dying bit by bit the longer she looked at him. "If you're unworthy," Her words dripped with malice, "then I have no use to you, dog. Why would I, Lady Desrosiers," She mocked, bringing up her surname just like he did prior, "waste my time with someone so insignificant like you, Lord Kingston? A tiny pebble," Cecilia rises as she looks down at the same table, staring at herself in the reflection, then chuckles, "a mere stray begging for scraps."

She could hear his heart beating at an unsteady pace, his trembling body getting harder for him to control. Lord Kingston's nails dug into her table, and as he drew his fingers to clench his fists. Cecilia noticed the damage done to the furniture, her smile dropping instantly. The others in the room shifted in their seats or cast their gazes elsewhere. "You know," Her fingers traced the faint scratches, which weren't too noticeable unless you look at it from a different angle, "you're going to have to pay for that. This table costs more than half of you in this room."

After dealing with more heated debates, promises, and awkward tension for a couple more minutes, the meeting was finally over. A relieved sigh leaving her, with Cecilia rubbing her face to soothe herself. "Idiots," She murmured out of her breath, leaving the meeting room to carry on her day.

Nakai Mersey . Male . Stalker . Location: His apartment . Mentioned: Nobody [alll by himseeeelffff]

Sunlight filtered through the haphazardly hung slat blind, strands of light stretching over the top of an equally lopsided figure who was fast asleep. Limbs hanging off the bed like that one pile of laundry that had been shuffled from chair to bed, bed to chair over and over again, Nakai was deeply in the type of slumber one could only obtain after a chaotic night out that resulted in almost getting banned from an already less than savoury establishment. Not even the budding heat of the day was going to interrupt what could only just count as a nap considering the time he'd stumbled back into his flat and headfirst into bed.

What would inevitably startle the stalker awake was the dreaded buzz and following shrill tune of his alarm. With a grunt that was more fitting of some type of denizen of the night, the still-addled and sleep-drunk man swatted his phone off the nearby cupboard with trained accuracy that could only be performed by acute muscle memory. The splintered glass of his phone screen demonstrated the frequency of this exact routine, as did the heavy-duty case that was once again failing to perform the arduous task of keeping Nakai's phone intact.

Unfortunately, his slap failed to stop the device from determinedly ringing, it was almost as if he needed to turn it off with a method other than slapping it, go figure. Resisting the urge to roll over and bury his head beneath a pile of pillows, Nakai shoved himself upright, all attempts to locate the phone squandered by the brightness of the sun filling the room. Face screwed up and head ringing, he simply kicked around with a foot in hopes of managing to secure the device. Bingo. Bending down to pick it up, he squinted at the almost indecipherable screen, finally managing to quiet the alarm with a stroke of luck.

Stumbling his way into the bathroom after being heavily assisted by the wall, he let out a sigh of relief as his eyes finally gained a reprieve from the brightness of his bedroom. He resisted the urge to simply lie down and take yet another nap on the cool tile, grumbling to himself about how much better his head would feel if he were to be horizontal instead of upright.

For a brief moment, the man caught his reflection, and for many, it should have been a point of evaluating his life and uttering some promise to quit his irresponsible decisions, for both his wallet and his health but alas, this was Nakai and Nakai was certainly not 'many'. There he stood, hunched over, bags under his eyes, t-shirt ruffled up in all kinds of odd ways, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Staring at his reflection unblinking for a moment too long, memories of just why his alarm was set so early began to crawl back into his brain.

"Mn...Bloody meeting, innit?" he mumbled to himself.

Before he could get any further into his half-hearted attempt to plan how he was going to get there or who he was going to run into, that same tune screeched at him from the previous room. Screw what any marked could throw at him, that *thing* was his biggest enemy, forever ruining his sleep and his feeble attempts to follow some poor excuse of a morning routine.

"Aight, aight you can shut up now," Nakai called back to the inanimate object, as if this was all done out of spite.

The device didn't stop its onslaught on Nakai's eardrums and continued to sing away with its cheerful and undeniably grating morning tune. It only ceased as he finally managed to turn it off instead of swiping the ever-so-irritating 'sleep' button. With another almost sulky grumble, retreated back into the cool of the bathroom, lazily swiping through the stalker's group chat while he was at it. Just what was everyone up to this morning?

-

Wholeheartedly regretting his decision to venture out of his flat, he could already smell the half-melted tarmac that was sure to follow on a day like today. More sun oh-so-rudely blinding him on his way down the stairs out of his apartment building, his coat was slung over one shoulder as it proved too hot to wear. Couldn't go without the tough leather, though. Nakai was never one to venture out undefended, he wasn't all too keen on the idea of becoming a statistic or at the very least getting a cement-scented friction burn when he inevitably found his face greeting concrete.

Heading down flight of stairs after flight of stairs, he lamented to himself, cursed the world and whoever had planned this meeting so early. Conceding to himself that he'd have to give himself a pep talk to even step out into the cruel heat of the day. He'd never been one for summer or warm sunny days; he forever missing the constant grey and looming threat of rain of his home city and country.

With one final internal complaint, he exited the building and out onto the street, planning on at least getting coffee before heading to wherever the meeting was held. At least the sun would dry his freshly showered hair with ease.

[I will undoubtedly never write something this long again]