Grey's POV
My hand tried to reach the source of the sound. Yes, since a few minutes ago, the damn cell phone kept ringing non-stop, making my ears deafening.
Bezel.
As soon as I knew who was calling, I picked up.
"Bez?" I asked, ignoring the pain in my head.
"Grey, where are you?" asked Bezel.
"I..." I looked around, ensuring I hadn't entered the wrong house. Because the last thing I could remember was that I was in a nightclub when a female bartender offered me a drink.
"At home, what's wrong, Bez? Why do you sound worried?"
"Thankfully, I thought you didn't come home last night."
"Bez, have you recovered?"
"I'm doing great, Grey."
"I'm sorry, Grey, I wasn't that good at helping you." Bezel's voice seemed regretful. I had no hatred toward her. Instead, I was the one who deeply
