Eleven

Winston’s pov

Wednesday came faster than I expected.

And every single time I thought about seeing Orson, my heart skips.

I hate it.

He just wants to have fun and since it's what he wants, I will give him.

One of the things I hate about being an Omega is that Alphas will want to sexualize or take advantage.

Alphas like Orson f**king Vexley. 

A total jerk who has no shard of pity in him.

He even texted me the time I should leave for the airport. Telling not to be late , which is not possible, I can't leave as early as seven.

I have other things to do.

And when I texted him that I won't be able to make it that early, He said it wasn't any of his business and I should be in the airport at that time.

I wonder if his fans or the people who had a crush on him know he is a jerk.

My phone rings.

I zipped up my duffel bag and pick up my phone.

Martins.

“Hello” I greeted,

“Hey…I wanted to know if you're having an early flight?” Martin asked, I smiled.

I had lied to him that I am going to my parents' for the next two days.

“Yeah…I am,” I said, dropping into my bed. 

“Okay, Need a ride?”

“I will appreciate that but I am thinking of ordering a ride” I answered,

“Come on, I will drive you” Martin insisted,

“Alright then, You better be in your car now” I laughed and he joined.

“i am on my way” He said and the call ended.

•••••

“Thanks for the ride” I opened the door to Martin’s car.

He smiled as he passed me my duffel bag from his car backseat.

“Anything for you”

I smiled, “See you tomorrow…not tomorrow exactly but anyways”

We both burst into laughter.

“Tell Mr and Mrs Crowley, I said hi” He said,

I nodded, “Okay…I gotta go” I checked my watch before making my way into the airport.

•

I stood in front of the private jet. Even from outside I could tell it's a very luxurious one.

Orson’s family is wealthy but sending a private jet to pick someone up is quite crazy.

Orson is crazy.

“This way sir” A female flight attendant ushered as soon as I climbed up the stairs.

I gave an awkward smile, hoping she wouldn't recognize me.

I settled in a seat, fixing my belt instantly.

“What will you like sir?” The flight attendant asked

“Nothing…I am fine for now” I said,

“Okay sir, please don't hesitate to call for me when you need anything” she said with a smile.

I nodded and I was left alone. Soon the jet took off and I fell asleep.

“Sir”

“Sir”

I heard someone called, then a tap on my shoulder. It was the flight attendant 

I opened my eyes, “Yes?”

“We are now at City D” she announced,

“Oh…thanks” a yawn escaped me.

I glanced out of the window, picking up my phone to check the time.

It's afternoon.

“How long did I sleep?” I mumbled, I must have been very tired from yesterday's game.

I stood up, grabbed my bag, then my phone buzzed.

I glanced at my phone.

“Orson” I muttered, I tapped on his text.

                                       Unknown number 

                                  I sent someone to 

                                  pick you up, I will

                                   be expecting you 

I scoffed, putting back my phone into my pocket. I put on my cap and my sunglasses and made my way out of the plane.

As I stepped out of the airport, I realised that I didn't ask how I would recognize who was picking me up.

I took out my phone and dialed Orson's number but he didn't answer the call.

I called his number again, No answer.

He is f**king with me?

Did he fly me here just to get me stranded in the airport?

How childish can he be?

I failed his number again, looking around out of frustration then I saw a sign.

Winston.

A man in a black suit was holding a sign with my first name on it, so I walked towards him.

“Are you picking up A Winston Crowley by chance?” I asked the man,

“Yes”

“Winston Crowley” I introduced myself,

“Hello sir,” The man greeted and before I could make sense of anything, he took my bag from me.

“You don't have to do that…”

“This way sir” He cuts me off and leads me

to a black sedan.

Just as I was about to open the car door, it opened itself.

No, by Orson Vexley.