𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ✧ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍 ✧ 𝐏𝐓. 𝐈𝐈

✰TWENTY-NINE✰

Thx for 8k!!
We're so close to the end!

The night still dark, causing a silhouette of a shadow to cast a vehicle shape on the dirty cement floor. The moon deciding to peak out from behind willow trees that were planted only to please the eye.

Thump thump.

His heart raced, beating faster with each bump the car made against the uneven pavement; but not because he was afraid of the inky darkness that surrounded him but because he was afraid of the next morning to come. Someone was bound never take a breath of life again, and he feared it would be his little Dan, not himself.

Thump thump.

Phil eased his toe into the break and parked it right in front, glancing to check if anyone was around to witness the war that was going to happen. Vacated.

Thump thump.

He didn't take his time, but he reached behind the passenger seat pulling a box of bullets from the netting. He shifted moving his hereditary hand gun from his pant's belt, refilling the missing 6 bullets in the barrel.

Phil wasn't sat in front of some normal hotel with white dusted walls. It was extremely unreliable to think any gang activity was going on in such a luxurious resort. But wealth could easily bye anything including suspicion; and gang's knew wealth.

The address Felix had given him had lead him to an extremely high-end affluent hotel. Gearing his eyesight upwards, his look danced along each of the 50,000 windows of each lavished room the hotel was able to offer. A glowing, radiant sign of the hotel's name was hammered at the top of the building, almost like a mirror of the Hollywood sign, but instead it read; Ellington Resort. Off to the left of the extravagant caravansary was rapid dark waters, bound to envelop anyone who managed to fall in.

He let his breath pass his lips as he tucked his gun back into the front of his belt, hiding it in plain sight. Phil lifted up the middle console and shuffled around for his pocket knife. He flipped it up and then around in his hand then shoved it into a hidden slit in his jeans, in a matter of a few seconds.

Finally, he stepped out of the car, his black and white tattoos making him stick out like a sore thumb when he strides towards the resort.

His palms were sweaty, as he reached out and opened the door. A brief smell of cinnamon and cleanliness whirled around him like a ghost of fragrance. He ignored the prosperous folks sitting at diamond crusted tables and stepped further into the building.

Then there, directly in front of his eyes was a familiar face, the face of a knowing trickster. A smug grin crinkled his eyes as he adjusted his midnight leather jacket. His hair, dark, inky and lustrous, had a sheen like fine hardwood. He took his fingers and swooped it to the side, switching the natural way his gelled up hairdo parted.

Phil sauntered closer as Brendon gestured with his shoulder to the elevator behind him. Twisting his heels around he leaned over pressing the button with his index finger. It lights up a dimmed red color with the up arrow plastered over it.
They both watched as the elevator's doors slowly parted away from each other, the empty box waiting to invite them in.

Nothing seemed forceful at the second, it felt like a peaceful conference; but once he stepped foot on the elevator, Phil was gladly putting his life on the line.

His ultimate desire; to get Dan safe again.

"Gun." Brendon demands, pursing his lips right as the lift's doors shut. He stuck out his hand still maintaining eye contact with silver painted door.