THE TRIO
938 Words
📖 Chapter 3 – The Trio
Killian didn’t sleep much.
Not that night.
Every time he closed his eyes, the words came back.
You’re not in control.
We’re watching.
By morning, it felt distant enough to ignore.
Almost.
Murray’s apartment was quiet.
Too quiet for someone who actually lived there.
Killian stood by the window, staring out at the city below, phone in hand. The screen was clean. Normal. Empty.
No messages.
No glitches.
Nothing.
A soft click came from behind him.
“You’re up early.”
Killian turned.
Murray stepped into the room, already dressed. Crisp. Put together. Like he hadn’t just woken up—but started the day hours ago.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Killian replied casually, slipping his phone into his pocket.
Murray nodded once, like that made sense.
It always did with him.
“You’ve been going hard lately,” Murray said, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Streaming every night.”
Killian shrugged. “It’s working.”
Murray paused briefly.
Not enough to call it hesitation.
Just enough to notice.
“Is it?” he asked.
Killian smirked. “You’ve seen the numbers.”
Murray poured himself a drink, calm as ever.
“I’ve seen numbers,” he said. “That’s not the same thing.”
Killian didn’t respond.
Didn’t need to.
A knock came at the door.
Light. Rhythmic.
Killian glanced at Murray.
“Expecting someone?”
Murray shook his head. “Probably Gibson.”
Killian frowned slightly. “He just shows up now?”
“He always has.”
The door opened.
Gibson stepped in quietly, like he didn’t want to disturb anything.
Simple clothes. Neutral expression. Eyes that noticed too much.
“Morning,” he said.
Murray nodded. “You’re early.”
Gibson shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Killian let out a short laugh.
“Seems like nobody sleeps anymore.”
Gibson looked at him briefly.
Just a second longer than necessary.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I’m good,” Killian replied quickly.
Too quickly.
They settled into the space.
Murray leaned against the counter.
Gibson took a seat.
Killian remained standing.
Restless.
“So,” Killian started, breaking the silence. “You guys missed a good one last night.”
Murray raised an eyebrow slightly. “Another big stream?”
“Yeah,” Killian said. “Numbers were crazy.”
Gibson didn’t react.
Just watched.
“What kind of numbers?” he asked.
Killian hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then shrugged. “The kind that matter.”
Murray gave a small, almost invisible smile.
“The kind you can explain,” he said, “or the kind you can’t?”
Killian’s jaw tightened slightly.
“It’s not that complicated.”
“Nothing ever is,” Murray replied calmly.
Silence again.
Thicker this time.
Gibson leaned forward slightly.
“You ever feel like something’s off?” he asked.
Killian froze.
Just for a moment.
“…What do you mean?”
Gibson shrugged. “I don’t know. Just—things not adding up.”
Killian forced a small laugh.
“You talking about your life or mine?”
Gibson didn’t smile.
“Just asking.”
Killian’s phone buzzed.
Sharp.
Loud.
All three of them heard it.
Killian pulled it out quickly.
Screen lit up.
Nothing.
No notification.
No message.
No missed call.
He stared at it.
“…You gonna answer that?” Murray asked.
Killian looked up.
“It’s nothing.”
Murray held his gaze for a second.
Then nodded once.
“Of course.”
Gibson shifted slightly in his seat.
“You sure you’re good?” he asked.
Killian exhaled, a bit sharper this time.
“I said I’m good.”
Too fast.
Too defensive.
The room went quiet again.
Murray broke it this time.
“You ever think about sustainability?” he asked.
Killian frowned. “What?”
“What you’re doing,” Murray continued. “How long it lasts.”
Killian scoffed. “As long as I want it to.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It is for me.”
Murray studied him.
Calm.
Unbothered.
“That’s what worries me,” he said.
Killian looked away.
Out the window again.
City still there.
Still real.
Still steady.
Unlike everything else.
Gibson stood up slowly.
“I’ve got to go,” he said.
Murray nodded. “We’ll talk later.”
Gibson looked at Killian one more time.
Like he wanted to say something else.
But didn’t.
“Take care,” he said instead.
Then he left.
The door closed.
Soft.
Final.
Killian let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“They’re acting weird,” he muttered.
Murray didn’t respond immediately.
Then—
“Are they?” he said.
Killian turned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Murray met his eyes.
Steady.
Measured.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just… something to think about.”
Killian shook his head, grabbing his jacket.
“I’ve got another stream later,” he said. “Can’t be distracted.”
Murray nodded once.
“Of course.”
Killian walked past him—
then paused.
Just briefly.
Something felt… off again.
He turned slightly.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
Murray frowned. “Hear what?”
Killian hesitated.
Listened.
Nothing.
“…Nothing,” he said.
He left the room.
Murray stood there for a moment.
Still.
Quiet.
Then slowly…
he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
The screen lit up.
A single message sat there.
No contact name.
No number.
Just words.
He’s starting to notice.
Murray stared at it.
Expression unreadable.
Then the screen went dark. 👀🔥
- Writer
