The Waiting Game Book Novels & Stories

“You really believe exposure solves everything.” “No,” I said. “I believe it removes excuses.” He stood. “You will remain here until the council concludes its review.” “And if I refuse,” I asked. “You already agreed by being here,” he said. The door opened again. He left without another word. The lock engaged. The room felt smaller now that the game was named. I stood and paced. Four steps to the wall. Three back. Counted again. Memorized the rhythm. They wanted stillness. So I sat again and waited.

THE GAME BEGINS The emperor sat in his chair, moved from left to right. He has been waiting for them, since dawn. It's starting to bore him. They said that; they will be here in three hours. Eight hours have passed. He straightened himself on the throne. The wait game is five hours long. Who knows how long it will last? There was nothing else than he can do, but to wait. The emperor placed himself, comfortably, on the throne. The game continues.

At school, I had a nickname. They called me "Mister Wait-Your-Turn." I waited for the sneakers my brother had grown tired of, the backpack my sister thought was ugly, and the phones my parents had already cracked the screens of. Even when it came to taking a shower, I had to wait until everyone else was done. A week ago, Mom had promised me, "On the day of your college entrance exam, you won't have to wait your turn for the shower." So when I finally stumbled into the bathroom, drenched in sweat and smelling awful, I thought my turn had finally come. I was halfway through working up a lather when someone started pounding on the door. "Come out. Let your brother go in." My eyes stung,

Earlier, he had ordered food for both him and his fiancée. “Greetings from Wine and dine restaurant, you ordered —-” the young lady was saying but Bryan really wasn't in the mood for that, he cut her short immediately. “Come back in an hour!” he yelled thoughtlessly and closed the door immediately. The delivery girl looked on in surprise, blinking repeatedly. “Some clients could be annoying. How am I supposed to leave and come back again within an hour?” she rolled her eyes. “I'm just going to wait,” she said, looking around to get a place to sit.

It was strangely quiet in the confined space, so I tried to start a conversation to avoid awkwardness. "How about some music?" A rather melancholic tune started playing right then. 'Oh, can't you see it, baby? 'You've got me going crazy~ 'Wherever you go~ 'Whatever you do~ 'I will be right here waiting for you~' I was a little surprised that the frosty bigwig would be playing such a sentimental love song on loop. "I really didn't peg you for a fan, Mr. Graham."

That night, Matthew sat on the kitchen floor until morning. It was the first time he had ever looked so defeated. In the past, no matter how late he came home, there was always a light waiting for him. There was always someone sitting on the couch, quietly waiting for him. That was all gone. The big house felt empty, and he was the only one left waiting for daylight. The next morning, Matthew did not bother to change his clothes. He went straight to the office.

Shane’s voice was steady, though his hands clenched tightly. “She looked out the window when the voice said not to. They don’t like it when you disobey.” “The what?” Shane didn’t answer her question right away. His eyes lingered on the girl with the rose blooming from her mouth, then slowly turned back to Farrah. “The ones who run this… whatever it is… they call it a game,” he said quietly. “But it’s not a game anyone wants to play.” Farrah’s hands clenched into a fist… “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

A faint smile broke through her tear-streaked face as she whispered through her sobs, "Thank you." After that, she looked up Cameron online, then spent the next two weeks waiting outside Cameron's residential area, only for him to never appear even once. That night, Bianca was dead set on waiting for Cameron. He was a no-show as dawn broke, though, so she despondently trudged down the street, the biting wind whipping at her face. She felt no pain, though, only the suffocating pressure in her chest, as if something inside her was collapsing.

"You probably want to use the money to make Bruno cut ties with me! But I'm telling you right now—dream on!" At her words, I paused for a moment. Why would anyone still like such a despicable man? No wonder people online say jerks and gold-diggers were made for each other. Well, I had no desire to waste any more time with someone like her. Thankfully, the race was over. I saw Liam running toward me, excited to share the joy of winning third place. From the corner of my eye, I saw Raine get up and lunge at me despite her pregnant belly.

He had never seen Olliver talk to anyone like that before ever. "I did wait. But it was painful to watch you pretending to jot down and work on something that I know would take at least another thirty-four hours." The stranger said, surprising Smith once again. How did this man know what they were working on and how long they had to wait for any reaction? "It's called getting accurate details throughout the experiment. Of course, you wouldn't know anything about that since you barely ever walk out of your office. You might get fat very soon if don't watch out…"