The Moment We Met (Chapter-24)

 

Felix's pov

"Felix Idiot Reyes." Ian's loud voice vibrates through the speaker of my phone. I visibly roll my eyes though he can't see me. "How in the fucking hell did you fuck up this much after I specifically told you what to do?"

"You are exaggerating," I say, rolling the steering wheel and turning the round. "I didn't fuck up that much."

"You weren't supposed to fuck up at all, dumbass!" His high-pitched tone resonates in my car again. "We made a plan for this reason. So that you don't mess up!"

I rub my eyes suppressing the urge to give him another vicious reply to continue the argument. But something else is more important right now than this argument. No matter what I say to him, I know I messed up to a certain point. And I actually need his help to fix that. That's why, I'm calling him. We will probably need to add some backups now in the main plan.

The plan-

Flashback at the restaurant-

"See! I just told you this morning and you told me I was 'jumping to conclusions'," Ian says with a poor attempt to copy my voice when I finish telling him how I feel about Maisara. I roll my eyes at him like I always do. "I don't talk like that."

"That's not the point." Ian dismisses, leaning forward to grab a few chickpeas from my plate of salad. Of course, I slap his hand away. "Don't touch my food with your dirty hand."

He scowls at me showing me both of his hands with palms facing outward. "See any dirt here. No? Then my hands are clean." 

He extends his hand again for my plate. I remove it out of his reach and 'accidentally' step on his feet with my hard sole snickers.

"Auch!" Of course, Ian being Ian, let out an exaggerating squeal jumping on his chair. Both James and the older couple sitting beside our table give him a very brief side-eye. I stifle a laugh.

"Felix! Stop bullying me!" He whines in his annoying-as-hell tone. A passing waiter glances in our direction, Ian's particularly. I am surprised at this point that they haven't thrown Ian out of the restaurant yet.

I shove a spoonful of salad in my mouth. "I'm not bullying you. You are the one annoying me."

He glares at me at first and then suddenly leans forward on the table with a serious look on his face. "Do you need my help with the Maisara issue or not?"

My heart randomly skips a beat hearing her name. It is starting to become a reflex, an involuntary physical reaction whenever I hear her name. I try to ignore it and focus back on the idiot sitting in front of me. "I don't remember asking for your help."

Ian smirks and I instantly feel like slapping his face. He puffs out his chest in arrogance as he says, "You need help from a professional like me if you don't want to destroy your chances with Maisara like you did with your other dates."

"Not every time it was my fault," I reply in a clipped tone.

Of course, he ignores that. "Anyway," Pausing briefly, he glances at my plate of salad before continuing, "So if you need my help, I suggest you to share your chickpeas with me."

I shove another spoon in my mouth, this time deliberately showing him that. "I'm not sharing my chickpeas with you. You can help me without that or you can fuck off."

He narrows his eyes and I grip my plate tightly waiting for him to jump for my plate any second. But he never does that. Instead, after a few seconds, he just gives up and sighs, slumping back on his chair. "Fine, I am gonna help you just this one time for free. That's not because you are my friend. That's because Maisara is a perfect girl for you and I'm not gonna let you ruin your chances with her. Also because I have been shipping you two for a really long time."

I was considering his words as heart-touching until he utters the last sentence with a fucking squeal. Cringing is obviously my first reaction. Then I decide to ask him as his words start making another sense, "What do you mean a long time? It has only been what? Like roughly a month?"

I notice James staring at me and then looking in Ian's direction at the same time Ian briefly makes significant eye contact with him. I'm pretty sure it didn't last more than one second and I would have definitely missed if I wasn't looking at their direction. I, unfortunately, can't make out the emotion on either of their faces in that brief moment. James's face stays neutral as always and Ian shifts to being Ian.

"That's exactly what I meant. What else could it be?" Though he says it in his usual silly voice, I know for a fact that it definitely wasn't what he meant at all. Even if I wasn’t sure when he said it, their eye contact says it all. But I decided to let it go anyway.

"So how are you gonna help?" I try to say it in a lazy tone that doesn't make me sound too eager. But of course, that doesn’t work on Ian. With a sick smirk and wiggling eyebrows, he replies, "Pretty eager now, aren't we?"

Luckily, seeing the scowl on my face kicks some sense into him. Clearing his throat, he continues, "Anyway, so first of all, we need a solid plan."

I offer him a sickeningly sweet smile. "Oh my professional Ian, that's such a brilliant idea. I didn't think about it at all!" And that earns a snickering from James.

Of course, Ian has the audacity to scowl this time. "Do you want me to continue or not?"

Despite the urge to provide another sarcastic reply, I decide to keep my mouth shut. Because no matter how silly he is, he still has the most active dating life among all of us. I think, even if it hurts me to admit, that he might be giving me some useful advice.

So I reply with a gesture of my hand. "Continue."

He flashes me his teeth and claps his hands together once, excited like a teenage girl who got her first love confession. "First, we need to gather what we know about her, what she likes and dislikes, and every single small detail we know so that we can work out a plan for how to win her. The smaller the details the better."

His excitement is so contagious even James puts his phone aside and gives us his precious attention. I give Ian a funny look. "The smaller the details the better?"

His eyebrows shoot upwards in a dramatically shocked expression. "You didn't know that?" Then it shifts into a mocking one. "That's why it never worked out before."

Another scowl from me. "If you just want to keep bullying me for my past activities, you can leave. I can work that out myself."

"The hell you will." He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his pockets and spreads it on the table. "Pen?" His eyes shift from me to James. I shake my head while James offers him a stylus with such a poker face that I have almost thought I'm seeing it wrong until Ian gives him a look.

"It works as a pen too," comes out James's gruff explanation. Ian gives him another look. James rolls his eyes before pulling open the cap and running the tip on the paper. When ink taints the paper, Ian makes a surprised sound. James hands him the stylus aka pen. 

"So," Extending the 'o', Ian scribbles something on the paper. I lean forward to see what it is. 

Path to Maisara.

"First you need what she likes." He writes something that looks like 'Likes'. His writing is so horrible I'm not even sure I would be able to read the plan after it's written down. He glances up at me. "Any idea?"

"She likes books," I say the first thing that comes into my mind, then add, "And coffee. Dark." He scribbles them down.

I keep going, "She likes wearing nosepins. I never once saw her without one and every time it's a different one. Her favorite color is dark red, like the color of blood. Favorite show is Friends. Her wallpaper is about that. Did I say she loves books? More than anything. Let her talk about it and she will never stop. She hates dogs, so I am guessing she is a cat person. She loves her job and can be called a workaholic in one sense but she enjoys doing that. She knows stuffs about cars, though we haven't talked about it yet. She-" I pause abruptly seeing the look on both James and Ian's faces. Both of them are looking shocked. Ian's jaw is touching the table with eyes as wide as they physically can be. James is not looking that horrible but he also has a shocked expression.

It suddenly hits me that I probably overshared. Letting out a nervous chuckle, I mumble, "Sorry, I got a little carried away."

Ian snaps out of his daze. Slowly, his lips pull upward into a wide grin until he is showing his teeth. He lets out a small chuckle saying, "A little? Bruh, you are whipped!"

"I am not." Damn, even I know that is a lie. The tips of my ears start warming up and I have never been more grateful in my entire life than now for my hair to be long enough to hide my ears. I try my best not to look away.

Of course, that doesn't convince Ian. He leans back on his chair and crosses his arms over his chest with a smug look on his face. "Well, no need to lie about it now. You already know that too."

I shrug deciding to shove a spoonful of salad into my mouth. "Well, you got me."

His grin widens only if it's possible. He gestures to the piece of paper in front of us. "Your work is already halfway done then. You know almost everything that you need to know for this to work out. The only thing that's left to do is to work according to that."

I nod in understanding. "Yup, working on it."

He just stares at me for a few seconds, like a creep. Then he jumps up on his chair and leans over the paper with the stylus back in his hand. "On the second thought, we need to plan that part out. You are gonna mess up otherwise."

"I told you already it's not me who is always messing." I glare at him so hard that my left eye starts twitching. 

"Okay, but it's not like you never messed up, right? You did and you know that. We can't afford to let that happen in her case," Ian pauses to give me a look. "That's for your own good."

He is right. I can't afford to mess it up. And he is willing to help. I shouldn't let this opportunity go to waste even if he annoys the fuck out of me. So even if I'm dying to give him a curt reply, I keep my mouth shut.

He nods before continuing. "The secret to win any woman's heart is to treat her right." The stylus in his hand starts rolling between his fingers. "And treating her right means treating her as a special someone, like a valuable trophy you won in a game, like a Queen, like something you have been obsessed with for a long time but never got in your hands until now." He raises his eyebrows at me. "Getting what I meant?"

I nod quickly. He continues, "Now how do we treat her right? First of all."

He pauses to scribble something on the paper. I look down to find 'Respect' written with a pointed mark. "Show her respect. Every single time. Even if you don't feel it. Even if you have to fake it. Show her that you genuinely respect her. However, I would suggest not going for a girl for whom you don't feel any respect. Because women are a hell lot more observant than us. Their sixth sense is also sharp as hell. They notice and sense the smallest of things. It's better to not take the risk of getting caught for faking it."

"That's some new information." I shrug. "I'm believing you with it."

He dips his head down once. "That's my honor." His tone sounds sincere but the mocking grin on his lips doesn't go unnoticed by me. I scowl but decide to say nothing about it.

"I hope I don't need to tell you how to respect a woman?" My scowl only deepens at his question. I reply darkly, "I never disrespected a woman in my life. My mom taught me better than this."

He stays silent for a few moments. When I start thinking that he is probably searching for some taunting reply, he simply says, "Okay." Then he writes down another point. 'Perfect date.'  

"Remember, every time there are only two of you hanging out, always consider it as a date. Doesn’t matter if it's announced or not. Because even if you don't consider it a date, the other person may do." He scratches his head looking up at me. "Though I'm not sure if that can be an issue in Maisara's case."

I shrug again. "Maybe." Ian squints at me. "I need to tell you about the manners on a date or-"

"I know that too. Thanks." I offer him a tight-lipped smile. His eyes narrow at me. "I seriously don't have any faith in you in this-"

"I am not an idiot. I know basic stuffs," I try my best to not yell. Why the hell is he so sure that I know nothing about dating?

"I think you can move on to the next topic, Ian." James suddenly decides to voice out his thoughts. He has been actually listening to our conversation this whole time. So it doesn't come out as surprising as last time when he speaks this time.

Ian gives him a look before looking back at me. "I am putting my trust in you cause Jamie is doing so. Mess it up and I'm gonna kill you." 

I blink at him. "You are threatening to kill me if I mess up my own chance with a woman that I want? Are you even listening to what weird ass things you are uttering?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes. Because I already told you I am shipping you two so hard. It will physically hurt me if it doesn't work out between you two."

Flashback ends. 

I take a deep breath, sucking up my pride with it, and then ask Ian, "What do I do now?" and cringe afterward knowing how much he is gonna rub it on my face for the next five years. For now, I am ready to endure everything if it means I can make up for the damage I caused today with her.

"Eat shit," Ian spits out through the phone. I pull the car into the driveway of my house just in time. Killing the engine, I glance at the black screen of my phone. Despite the anxiety in my nerves, I feel my lips tugging upwards.  

"Well, then send me some cause I can't find any edible shit here." Taking the phone and keys, I get out of the car. 

"Eat your own shit," comes his reply in a much normal tone that I glance back at the screen as if I can see his facial expression through it. 

"Okay, I will," I reply, sliding the key into the door lock and twisting it. "After that, what do I do?"

A long pause, long enough for me to slide into the house and lock the door behind me. As I switch on the lights, Ian replies in his usual loud ass dramatic tone, "Do you really want me to tell you what to do now?"

I scoff walking into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. "No, I called to know how to hide a body."  Keeping the phone on the counter, I walk over to the fridge to grab the bottle.

"That would have been really convincing if I didn’t know you aren’t capable of murder." Ian's voice comes as if he's talking from a distance meaning he is also doing his job while talking to me.

"Would you tell me or not?" I walk back to my phone and sit down on the stool in front of it. A scoff reaches my ear from the other side of the phone followed by, "Idiot, go apologise to her! Ask her if you made her uncomfortable or not. Bring flowers, of course, while doing that."

I roll my eyes twisting the cap and taking a big gulp. "I already did that. Except that flower."

A long pause. Then he goes, "What did she say?"

"She said that she understood and that she would be doing the same if our roles were reversed."

That earns a chuckle from Ian. "She would have done so much worse actually."

That makes me smile. She would. We both know that.

"Well, then I think the situation is not as bad but still you shouldn’t have messed up in the first place. I taught you better than this." His stern tone makes me roll my eyes for the hundred times over one phone call.

"But still if you feel guilty, spend more time with her. Make excuses to spend time with her and for God's sake, don't mess up next time!" Another eye roll from me. "I can't believe one of my babies is messing up things I taught him."

I open my mouth to give a curt reply but then go for another one, "Cause you are not a good parent."

A dramatic gasp. "I'm the best parent anyone can ever have."

I shrug even though he can't see me. "Talk about it when you have actual babies."

"My actual babies are gonna be the best babies in the world." Ian and babies? Yeah, right. I don’t see anything close to that happening within the next twenty years at least.

I take another gulp of water before replying, "Your actual babies are gonna be the most idiotic babies in the world."

Of course, that earns a dramatic gasp from him. "I can't believe-"

I don’t bother for him to finish saying it before I hung up. After the call is cut and the lock screen is back, I find two new messages. Both of them manage to run a shiver down my spine for two entirely different reasons.

Mom: Let's have a family dinner tomorrow night if you are free.

Maisara: How come I never knew you are an Instagram Influencer?