8 nights in hell [Billie Eilish]

NIGHT I.1: dropped my croissant

• pov: Mara •

I cursed through my gritted teeth and pulled at the price tag with full force. The thin plastic strip cut into my fingers but did not budge. Twenty-seven euros for a pair of shitty cotton gloves. Paris was ridiculous. I pulled again and accompanied by a ripping sound the tag finally came off.

Shivering, I popped up the collar of my leather jacket to shield myself from the freezing wind. The temperature was to blame on the fact that I was walking down the street in the middle of the night. The gloves were not against the cold, though. They served a different purpose.

Traffic could be heard in the distance and the muffled sound of an ambulance. There was music somewhere as well but only the lowest frequencies reached this sleeping neighborhood.
The only light source were the orange streetlamps above. I watched my shadow change size as I walked past them in quick long strides.

Even though I had put on running shoes the high elegant buildings to either side of me threw back the sound of my own footsteps. To my ears the echo sounded as if I was being followed.
I glanced over my shoulder but the narrow street behind me was completely empty. My breath condensed in the cold night, making me exhale little clouds that trailed behind me. Their pace gave away my nervousness.

I found some comfort in the familiar ache of my scar when I opened and closed my right fist. Come on, I encouraged myself, get a grip. There's no going back now.

When I looked down quickly the lock screen of my phone read 3:13.

The walk had taken longer than planned. Only two minutes left to get to my destination. Fucking hell, I thought and almost laughed, what kind of criminal arrives to the scene on foot?

Without stopping I unlocked my phone. The name at the top was written in bold uppercase letters:

𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙱𝙾𝚂

The columns bellow where white on back. Just scanning over the details listed on my phone almost made me toss it in the next best litter bin and run back to the hotel. I scrolled to the information I needed at the bottom of the page.

I reached a cross-section and looked up. The sign with the street name stood out on the white wall of the building. The golden letters reflected the dim light. Rue Debelleyme.

I took a deep breath of the damp autumn air to calm myself before dropping the phone into my pocket and pulling on the gloves. My short hair was stuffed under the black beanie I had taken, no borrowed from Billie, before I tied a scarf over my mouth and nose. I was ready. Ninja look complete.

I felt hot and trapped immediately. It was stuffy under the scarf, the gloves were too small and the side of my head itched. There was no way to see my reflection but I had the feeling I did not look like a ninja at all. More like idiot-about-to-ruin-her-life-over-2,900-euros look complete.