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“Eleven”
“Eleven” Brandon is nervously waiting for the elevator to reach his floor, fingers tapping on the hand rail. 'Should I text him? Call him? But what am I gonna say? "Hello? How are you?" Of course, he's fine. He's engaged. Top of his class. Bad boy of Bella Terra. Aish!' The doors opened and Bran was frustratingly pulling his hair when another passenger got in. The young Vongvanich awkwardly smiled, slightly bowed, and resumed tapping on the hand rail, attempting to empty his thoughts of his cousin. "Yesterday is a history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it's called a present." The other passenger said out of nowhere. Bran knotted his brows and turned his body, now facing the other guy. "Huh?" The tall and tanned man in his early forties warmly smiled at Brandon.
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