Give me Tranquility. (Remastered)
Fray and Arya's love story...
Tranquility: a peaceful, calm state without noise, violence, and worry.
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Fray's POV
I stood there, in the rain, alone. Blood flowed down my hands, never to be seen again—the same as last week and the week before. When Seattle weather promised rain, it was more than that—it was a guarantee. The rain hit me harder, leaving no trace of the red that had been there less than a minute ago.
I kept my face neutral, staring at my reflection in someone's nicely tinted car. I was androgynous and typically confused most. My appearance and mannerisms defied conventional expectations, frequently causing people to question or misinterpret my identity. The raindrops hit the tinted window, creating the illusion that I had been crying but hadn't. There were no tears on my face, no emotion at all. That's how I preferred it—my life devoid of feeling. I had no plans to change that. "We don't talk about Fight Club," Enzo had told me once. That's what was on my mind at that moment. Not that it mattered; I didn't have any friends, and I rarely talked to anyone. Who would I tell? Enzo was the first friend I'd made since moving to Seattle. I was new in the city, with nowhere to go. I had left behind my old life, friends, and siblings. Somehow, Enzo had roped me into this scheme. One thing led to another, and now I was making money for both of us most nights of the week.
This arrangement filled the gap in my spare time, occupying the endless hours that would otherwise stretch into restless nights. I needed to stay productive; exhaustion was the only way to force myself to sleep. No matter how much I tried, darker, more pressing thoughts would haunt me, lurking in the shadows of my mind, keeping me awake until the early hours.
My friends were all back in Chicago, the only people who truly knew me. Creating distance from them was something I hated, but they understood. Being away from home was necessary for my healing. For the first time, I had to figure things out on my own without anyone depending on me. With its dreary skies and unfamiliar streets, Seattle offered a fresh start and a chance to leave behind the old me—the person I used to be and never wanted to become again. The city felt lifeless, but its redundancy was a canvas for my transformation, a stark contrast to the shadows of my past that I was determined to escape.
A harsh tap on my shoulder jolted me from my thoughts. I turned to face the short man with a creepy mustache that he really should have shaved off; it made him look like a pedophile if you stared too long. Beside me, Enzo stood in the rain with a big smile on his face. "You know, kid, you've been making me good money!" he said, his voice dripping with false camaraderie. I knew better. This guy was full of it. If I even thought about backhanding him, he'd have one of his goons on me in a heartbeat.
I stayed silent, cracking my knuckles calmly as he continued to talk. "We could go pro, you know, like UFC type stuff. You're a natural." I rolled my eyes and said nothing. I used my right hand to crack my left thumb. I held my breath and blocked him out, longing to go home. Knowing Enzo, he would either weasel out of giving me a ride or drop me off halfway. Just then, a door slammed behind us. I turned to see one of Enzo's boys. The first time I met Enzo and his crew, they tried to pick a fight with me. I handled it, no problem—the rain mixing with his blood on my hands is a memory I won't forget. We didn't get along, to say the least.
I glanced back at Enzo, who was rambling about something that didn't matter to me. My hand throbbed, and I cut him off, "You got my money?" My body ached, and I needed to get home, so I sounded more aggressive than intended.
"Y-yeah," he stammered, pulling out an envelope and handing it to me. "I'll catch you later." His phone pinged, and his fingers flew over the screen. "Tomorrow night?" he asked as he slithered away like the snake he was. "When I get the new address for the next fight, I'll call you. Rest up your hands, my champion," he said as his driver pulled up. He got into the car and sped off, leaving me in the rain at 1:36 in the morning.
Maybe he wasn't a friend, but he provided a way for me to escape my mind.
I checked the map on my phone to see how far I was from my apartment. Five miles. It's alright, especially compared to the last eight-mile hike. My mile time stood at a solid 6 minutes and 35 seconds. I picked up the bag I'd been holding with one hand. Just slinging it over my shoulder sent a jolt of pain through my body. Getting home was going to be tough, but nothing I couldn't handle.
A wheeze had set in by mile two, and my lungs were begging for air. It was dark out, with the streetlights casting eerie glows and beautifully planted trees lining the sidewalk. The night was stunning, and even though I'd been kicked in the ribs more times than I could count, I couldn't help but admire it all.
By mile three, I was still trying to run, but eventually, I ended up walking for the most part. By mile four, my body was shaking so much I felt like I might meet the creator himself. I contemplated stopping and just collapsing on the sidewalk, but I was too tired even for that.
When I finally stumbled into my apartment building a little after 2:30 AM, exhaustion hit me like a freight train. Holding my gym bag to the side, I fumbled for my keys, pushing past the white envelope of money I had gotten from Enzo. He was slick, but he always made sure to give me my money—he knew better than to try anything. Swaying from side to side, I dragged myself and my suddenly twenty-pound-heavier bag down the hallway. As I stuck my key into the doorknob, the door across from me creaked open.
I turned around. A girl—no, a woman—stood in a skin-tight pajama set. I couldn't deny it hugged her figure perfectly, leaving very little to the imagination. She was slim, her brown-skinned body toned and captivating. My eyes lingered on her, probably for a bit too long, because she cleared her throat, arching her perfectly shaped eyebrow as our eyes locked.
They were hazel, her eyes, a striking contrast to her long, curly hair. She didn't resemble anyone I had seen while living here. The people here were dull and tiresome, but she was different. She kept staring, looking me up and down, analyzing me as I did her. I couldn't lie; her gaze sent nerves racing through me, a sensation I hadn't felt in years. Goosebumps prickled my skin, a reaction I only ever had when I was freezing cold.
I wanted to take in more of her face—her defined cheekbones, the freckles that adorned the center of her face, her full, even lips—but I couldn't. The intensity of what I was feeling overwhelmed me, and I looked away, unable to handle the surge of emotions she provoked.
Her voice, as soothing as a melody, broke through my tension, even with my back still turned to her. "Excuse me..." I furrowed my eyebrows, bracing for her to scold me for waking her up or one of the countless other reasons my neighbors had found to complain. "Are you okay?" she asked, her tone gentle and understanding as if she already knew my whole life story. It was soft, calming, and unexpectedly kind, immediately relaxing my nerves.
Her voice stirred something in me, waking me up a bit. "Yes," I replied simply. It was all I could manage; any other words were buried deep in the fog of exhaustion.
She frowned, a genuine sadness settling on her face. I found myself wanting to fix it, though I had no idea how. I had never seen her before in my year and a half living here. I could only assume she had moved in recently since there had never been any noise from that apartment.
"Okay," I said, nodding slightly before entering my apartment. I shook off whatever happened, trying to refocus on my familiar surroundings. My apartment was clean, but the view was as dreary as ever. I glanced at the analog clock—it was too early in the morning, and I knew I wouldn't get much sleep.
I had to leave for work in a few hours but wasn't tired anymore. After taking a shower and food, I found sleep impossible. My body needed rest, but my mind wouldn't allow it.
I had managed a full night's rest on Monday a few days ago, so I could wait until tonight after the gym to catch up on sleep. Before I knew it, it was 6:30 AM, and I was in my car, ready to head to work.
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-Sun.
