HTTP 404'S

Chapter #121

The eyes of the cafe customers from the female to even the male, brightly sparkling and somewhat rustling - swish when looking at the guy sitting alone in the outer court of the building ‘El Ranchee Beam’.

The young man who repeatedly unconsciously kept on restoring his black mane, again clucking bored. Fifteen minutes he was sitting busy and snobs here. But, the long-awaited did not also reveal the trunk of his nose. Where the blazing sun this afternoon is really crazy hot!

KRINGG!

He snarls in the heart. He forgot to turn down the volume of his phone. He was also without a lot of checks, then raised no phone fun from people who should have filled the empty seat in front of him.

“Sorry, Tutor Reid. There were some sudden things I had to take care of, so I—”

“How long is it?”

The one called ‘Tutor Reid’ and merta sighed lazily. He was tired, tired, and le-le after running marathons from the Stuyvesant gym, Harisson orphanage, and Smith Smiley Mart.

He even had to postpone his second lunch session, because he almost forgot that today there was a schedule of meetings with the subject across the phone.

“How much longer do I have to wait ‘Nak’ Leonna?”

“...I don't know for sure,”

Nak Leonna, aka Leonna Milekova, the interlocutor of Reid's phone call, was silent for a moment. He also did not expect it to be too late, or rather, obstructed, like this. So, how else? Rice has turned into porridge.

Phone calls were cut off unilaterally. Reid for the umpteenth time sighed bitterly. He knew this, better to go home, eat, and shower first.

Who would have thought a Reid who never once wasted time doing nothing, today, flanked by absurdly high temperatures at three o'clock in the afternoon, was forced to just keep sitting around, looking at New York's urban streets crowded with free radical particles and pollution?

“It's from the girl at the table there.”

A glass of drink that was only in one look Reid knew that it must be sour and containing alcohol, laid cheerfully by an employee on his desk which was still empty.

“Classic Mojito? For me?” Reid asked as he glanced at the girl the employee pointed at.

“Sorry, but I don't want.” Said Reid again without expression. Then immediately turned his busy-looking gaze to the phone screen.

“Then excuse me Sir. Please enjoy the drink.” Just now Reid was about to protest. However, the employee who was likely still sitting in college was unfortunately already gone first as fast as the blink of an eye.

Reid inevitably could only glance resignedly. He should be thanking the foreign girl at table number three behind him.

But, stupid shit. He has understood very well that the human meaning of the genre ‘hawa’ is not as clean as one.

He would bet. There must be a covert intent that is none other than, because it wants acquaintances, exchanging phone numbers and as closely as possible, which is vulnerable to threaten the future plan of success, brilliance, and the existence of a thick wallet.