THE VELVET KILLERS II

(1) JOURNALIST OF THE YEAR

FRIDA

"Frida...!"

I am snapped out of my trance as I almost spill my coffee, avoiding it by quickly grabbing my cup before it fell on the ground. Around me, people had stopped talking, as someone had just shouted and a drama almost occurred: I look up, and when I see Alexia Putellas, her arms crossed against her chest and a cold look, I know I'll have some explaining to do. 

Before she can say anything, I just mutter under my breath:

"Du kunde för fan ha varnat mig..." (English: you could've fucking warned me).

Rolling her eyes, the Spanish doesn't lose time: she immediately sits down across from me, although she saw it was at my dislike, before aggressively asking:

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"I had stuff to deal with in Sweden..." I start, obviously lying.

"Just when Ingrid gets abducted? What is wrong with you? We need as much help as we can get to find her, and every hour counts in terms of kidnapping... For all we know she might as well be dead by now, so-"

"Spare me the lecture, please" I interrupt her, pretty mad, "Engen and I have a complicated work relationship, and-"

But she doesn't let me finish: the big smirk on her face is enough to make me stop talking - obviously she knows. 

Cracking a genuine and malicious smile, she states:

"Oh, but from where I stand, it looks like way more than a 'work relationship' to me, uh? Is disappearing your way to dealing with the fact that the woman you may have feelings for although you're 'straight' and 'married' has disappeared? 'Cause that's a shitty way: it won't make her come back."

"It's very funny how you cops always think you know everything, but instead just fail miserably at profiling people..." I start, but then I try to calm myself down: I was showing too much right now. Taking a deep breath and using a calmer voice, I continue: "Listen, I've heard what you've gone through this past week, and I really don't want to say mean stuff to you, so why don't you just... I don't know, go somewhere else?"

Alexia smirks.

Instead of leaving, she raises her hands at the barista, who immediately comes to our table, and when she asks for two more coffees, I just feel my anger boiling inside of me: why would Ingrid's best friend want to grab a coffee with me if 'every hour counts'? 

She is investigating, I think to myself, before she goes on:

"Listen very carefully, 'cause although you might not be ready to hear what I'm about to tell you, you'll have to realise at some point to wake the fuck up: you came to Leah's funeral, even though you didn't know her quite well. You came to my mother's funeral, although you and I never truly spoke to each other more than 1 minute. Why would you have done that, uh?"

"Well, sorry for being a human being and being able to commiserate when people lose other people..." I start, in bad faith.

"... or maybe you came because you know Ingrid would've wanted you to come."

"This is nonsense-"

"Look, even a blind person could tell you're having an internal crisis 'cause you have feelings for her. Great, what's the big deal?"

"I am a married woman, Agent Putellas" I coldly answer, setting my jaw, decided not to talk about whatever feelings I could have toward Ingrid.

"Being married doesn't mean being unable to fall for someone else... Either way, whenever you're ready to face the truth and help me actually find her, give me a call."