The first thing Adrian noticed was that Marcus didn't answer his calls. Once. Twice. Five times. Straight to voicemail. Adrian stood outside Marcus's apartment building with his phone clenched tightly in his hand. Something was wrong or maybe, something had always been wrong. He looked up at the towering structure and then walked inside.
Marcus was halfway through shredding documents when the intercom buzzed. His jaw tightened. He ignored it. The buzzing came again. Longer this time. Then his phone lit up.
**ADRIAN CALLING**
Marcus stared at the screen. The universe had a cruel sense of timing. He declined the call. Then continued feeding papers into the shredder. Emails. Meeting notes. Handwritten observations. Years of preparation disappearing into thin strips. He should've done this
