Long Past Dawn

He was resonant and firm as the wind. His vigilance was comparable to a mountain, and those calm eyes seemed to appear as if they are waves dancing in raging seas.

As he walked, the aura he yielded was beyond immeasurable, men were intimidated, and women were captivated. His paces were perfect as the fair skin he had.

The man looked at his watch, waiting for the next train to arrive.

‘3 minutes and 48 seconds before the train arrives.’ He thought.

The train came perfectly after 3 minutes and 48 seconds. The man’s stern eyes furrowed as he entered. Carefully placing his briefcase on top of him, the man studied his worn-out notebook. The black sheep of him, the notebook, he was everything but poor.

“After meeting Mr. Edward at the library at 7 am sharp. I must head home and write on my journal for tonight’s book interview, Mr. Ford will call specifically at 8 pm, and if anything happens, I must stay at home, waiting for Mr. Carson tomorrow at 7:35 in the morning.” He organized his notebook was, but it bothered him more.

‘People who cannot be consistent about time are the worst to deal with.’ He sighed, probably disappointed at Mr. Ford’s hectic schedule and what seemed to stop him from getting an organized plan at all.

The train stopped, and the speaker spoke loudly, “Lane 3, please line up as you board. Lane 4, 5, and 6, please walk in a straight line as you go down.”

~

He reached the great library strictly at 6:55 am. The man tapped his case as he waited for the grand doors to open. It did. A man in his thirties appeared at the doors opened in slight creaks.

The man bowed, “Greetings, Mr. Clarence. I am sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Likewise, Mr. Edward.” Clarence held his head high as he entered the massive library. “You cleaned it well.”

“Of course,” Mr. Edward chuckled, dearly praying to his Almighty God that it might please the strict Mr. Clarence of Hills. “we prepared only the best for you, Mr. Hills.”

The man only hummed, somehow halfway satisfied with the arrangement, “Well, show me the books and everything else.”

“Yes, yes!”

Minutes passed, and it turned to hours before actually finishing the tour. However, Clarence stood firm and unfazed at the huge location; he had seen far vaster; The Castle of Dardanelle, The Fields of the White Rose, The Maze of Pollens. He had seen all the wonders of the world, but it did not seem to satisfy him.

“Here, we have our best-selling books!” Mr. Edward showed Clarence an illustrious shelf, different from all the others. “Crimson Leaves, The Mirage Clearing, Before she Ruled, and Diabolic Trust.”

However, Clarence was not entirely listening. A specific book caught the man’s eye, an old one at that. Clarence took the book and cradled the thick sheets into his harms. Dust was visible, and knowing Clarence’s attitude, he would not dare go any inches nearer, but he did.

Mr. Edward stuttered, “M-mister Clarence!”

“Stay there.” He ordered.

Mr. Edward stood still.

“Altered Incarceration,” Clarence started reading. “When survival becomes betrayal. Princes are meant to support the nation and care for the well-being of a king, but how come I turned into a different path?”

“Sir?” Mr. Edward asked slowly.

“I will take this home with me.” Clarence smiled.

The other man sighed, ‘It seems like Mr. Clarence liked it after all.’

~

Supposedly, prison is supposed to be a prince’s downfall, but God indeed had a different plan for me.

Twenty more minutes will not hurt.

It was becoming more and more devastating, yet I felt relieved.

More minutes.

“I cannot become your spy!” I shouted at the men. “Yes, all of you are nice to me, but I cannot betray my family!”

More-

CRING!

Clarence reluctantly took the call, “Hello?”

“Mr. Clarence!” The other line laughed haughtily.

Clarence realized who it was when it spoke, “Ah, hello Mr. Ford, are you free tonight?”

“Yes, I am free, Mr. Clarence; where would you like to.”

Clarence cut him off, “I am sorry, Mr. Ford, but I have to take out my investment; good night.”

“Wait, what?”

The line beeped, signaling that the call ended.

Clarence sighed. He hated disturbance, and the word categorize was not on his mind at the moment. The man went back to his desk, lighting the lamp as it was nearing to dim. He then remembered,

Mr. Carson-

“Well, I did cancel our appointment.” He mused to himself. “For now, I will read this interesting book.”

He burnt the midnight oil to the finish, and dawn broke. The sun shone onto his messy brown hair, and his porcelain skin glowed. Nevertheless, the man was nowhere awake. He was sleeping as peacefully as a cat.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Hey, Clarence, open up; it is your brother!” The man shouted, completely ignoring the angry remarks made by neighbors for being loud. “What the hell is that man doing?”

He gave another dozen of knocks, but to no avail, not even a mosquito moved from the insides of Clarence’s apartment. As the owner was sleeping, not knowing the commotion created by his brother outside.

The man waiting lost his temper and kicked the door open. It flung but indeed broken. He marched onto the room and found his brother completely knocked out at his desk; a book served as his pillow.

The man chuckled. “And behold! The stern and great Mr. Clarence, dozing off in his desk in a busy morning.”

He wondered, ‘When was the last time I saw him completely relaxed and defenseless like this. Was it 16 years ago? No, maybe longer than that.’

He stood up and walked out of the apartment. It is appeasing to see Clarence like this. For that stern man never had any time to break.

~

Clarence woke up to the sound of choir bells ringing across town. He felt refreshed and yet, dizzy somehow. The jacket fell off his shoulders; the man picked it up.

“Ah, Charlie must have come!” He mumbled utterly not in his usual self, “It is long past dawn.”