Chapter 881 Charles Has an Accident
The next morning, Charles was in a killer mood. Dude hadn't slept a wink and was up at the crack of dawn, getting all spruced up.
Randy, on the other hand, was tossing and turning all night 'cause of Andrea. He heard some noise outside, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, and squinted at the time.
Six o'clock. Seriously?
Curious, he dragged himself out of bed and followed the noise to the bathroom.
There was Charles, shaving in front of the mirror, humming some tune, looking like he just won the lottery.
Randy, scratching his head, asked, "Yo, Charles, what's the deal? Why are you up so early?"
Charles checked himself out in the mirror. Even without sleep, the guy looked like a million bucks.
"Good news, man!" he said, still shaving.
Randy's curiosity was piqued. Leaning against the doorframe, he pressed, "Spill it, dude. What's the good news? Let me in on it."
Charles grinned, "Not telling. Some things are just for me to enjoy."
Randy had never seen Charles like this before.
He wasn't slow; he had a hunch and smirked, "Charles, did you notice that girl Hannah yesterday? She looks a lot like Violet, huh?"
He'd wanted to ask this on the way home last night but held back since Charles seemed off.
Now that Charles was all sunshine and rainbows, he took his shot.
Charles nodded, not dodging the topic, "Yeah, they do look pretty similar."
Randy, with a rare gossiping glint in his eye, asked, "Did you ever think they might be the same person? Or mistake Hannah for Violet?"
Charles finished shaving, checked his chin for any missed spots, and replied, "Hannah is Hannah, and Violet is Violet. They're two different people. Never mixed them up."
He knew what Randy was getting at.
If he wanted a Violet look-alike, he wouldn't have waited this long.
In his search for Violet, he'd met a bunch of girls who looked more like her than Hannah did.
But none of them did it for him.
He was clear-headed about liking Hannah for Hannah, not because she looked like Violet.
Randy nodded, "That's good. Wouldn't be fair to Hannah otherwise! I can tell you really dig her."
Charles, satisfied with his shave, put the razor away, "Relax, man. I know what I'm doing. I know what I want."
After a bit of chit-chat, Randy circled back, "Come on, tell me, why are you so happy? It's only six, and you're already up. What's the plan?"
He tried to catch Charles off guard, hoping he'd spill the beans.
But Charles was unfazed, "No comment."
Randy pouted, ready to give up, when a voice piped up behind him.
Stella said, "What else? He's in love!"
Randy jumped at the sudden voice, especially since it was a girl's. He spun around and saw Stella standing there, hair down.
"What are you doing here?" he blurted, then realized something and looked down.
Yup. Just in his underwear.
His long legs were out there for the world to see.
His face turned beet red, even his ears.
Instinctively, he covered his crotch with his hands, ready to bolt back to his room. But Stella glanced at him and said nonchalantly, "I've seen it all before! Besides, you're in underwear. No big deal."
Randy stared at her, shocked, "Aren't you embarrassed?"
Stella shrugged, "We're family. What's there to be embarrassed about?"
Randy was speechless.
Despite her words, he still dashed back to his room to throw on some loungewear.
After a few minutes, Randy felt a bit more chill, and his face wasn't as red.
When he came out, Stella gave his crotch another glance.
Stella quipped, "What's the big deal? Legs aren't gonna make a girl go wild, as long as the important bits are covered."
Randy's face, which had just calmed down, turned beet red again.
Though he was usually the quiet, shy type, he was known for his chill demeanor, and it took a lot to get under his skin.
Stella was the first to manage it in over twenty years.
Randy grumbled, "You really have no filter, do you?"
Stella just shrugged it off. She plopped down next to him, threw an arm around his shoulder, and grinned, "Randy, we're all family here. No need for awkwardness."
Randy wasn't in the mood to keep this convo going, "Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't you be at home?"
Stella smirked, "Didn't Charles confess to my friend last night? I just tagged along with him! How else would you get all the juicy details?"
Randy's curiosity was instantly piqued, "Wait, Charles confessed to Hannah?"
Despite Stella's bluntness, her sunny personality was kinda infectious.
Stella nodded enthusiastically, "Yep! Why else would Charles be up shaving at the crack of dawn? Trust me, he's definitely heading to see Hannah now to kick things off."
She said it so cheerfully that Randy was momentarily stunned.
Charles had just changed and walked out of his room. Seeing the two of them almost nose-to-nose, with Randy's thoughts clearly being steered by Stella, he sighed, "Since you two are busy, I'm outta here!"
Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed his car keys and bounced.
Randy wanted to ask more but Stella held him back.
Stella said, "Ask me anything, I know all the deets! Seriously, anything you wanna know, I've got you."
That was the last thing Charles heard as he closed the door behind him.
Looked like he didn't need to worry about Randy.
With Stella around, Randy probably wouldn't have time to be bummed out.
After leaving the house, Charles drove to grab breakfast for Hannah, planning to eat together, and then headed to her apartment.
Glancing at the breakfast on the passenger seat, he felt a wave of happiness. The thought of seeing Hannah soon made him grin like an idiot.
The breakfast spot was a bit of a drive from Hannah's place.
It was just past six, and most folks were still at home, so the roads were pretty empty.
Charles, eager to see Hannah, unconsciously floored it.
As he approached a red light at an intersection, he gently pressed the brake to slow down.
But nothing happened. The car kept speeding up.
Charles's heart skipped a beat.
The brakes were shot.
His car was always in top shape, so how could the brakes just fail out of nowhere?
It was fine when he went to grab breakfast just now.
How could it go kaput so fast?
And now he was barreling down the road, heading for an intersection. If he didn't stop in time, it would be a disaster.
He'd been cruising at eighty miles per hour, and now he was pushing a hundred, hurtling forward. If he hit the car in front, it wouldn't just be him; others would get wrecked too.
Charles scanned the surroundings, desperately looking for a place to crash.
But time was running out. The blaring horns and screeching tires filled the air.
Charles felt like he couldn't breathe. His eyes widened as he watched the speedometer climb. The car was blowing through the red light, and a black car appeared from the left.
His car's front end slammed into the side of the black car.
In that moment, the world seemed to go silent.
The air felt still.
Everything around slowed down, like in a dream, and his senses became razor-sharp.
Charles had no time to think or react.
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