#11 IN ACTION
(PARIS)
Buried deep below the everyday life of our society lives a world of nightmares-of violence and murder no one dares speak about. It is called the Sinner's Society.
In the murky waters of Chicago's underworld I'm arranged to marr...
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AFTER MY FIRST WEEK AT THE CLUB, Tyrin invites me to have lunch with her and to shop for some new costumes, since I only have a couple that are worth showing at the club. We meet in Madison Street and while walking down the pavement to the restaurant I relive my childhood. It looks same as well as different. I'm not sure how is that possible. Maybe its just with age my perspective of world has changed and that's what making me feel what I'm feeling. Or maybe its just nostalgia. God knows what it is, the thing is it feels good to be back where I've spent two years of my childhood. A turning point of my life.
When we reach the quaint Italian restaurant, I open the door for Tyrin, to which she raises a brow and I wonder what kind of men she has been with to find such gestures funny. We take a seat by the window, its completely a British thing to do. Whether its raining or its sunny we always take the window table. As it happens we get a beautiful, bright, window table with the street view.
We order our food, Tyrin settles for salad, chicken wings sided served with BBQ sauce and a glass of Merlot where as I look at the prices and choose ravioli and 2.99 dollar beer. After that a ten minutes good ole chinwag ensure while she seems honest to the point I've to hide my cringe and I follow my English blood not saying what I mean, until our lunch is served.
"So how was your first week?" Tyrin asks barely bothering to look my way between her admiring the passing men through the window and gnawing on a chicken wing.
This is the third time she is asking me this. "Do you come here because you actually like the food?" I ask her in return smiling with a wink to let her know I'm trying not to be rude.
Picking up another wings she rests both her elbows on the table and takes a bite. Chewing she looks at the girl on her left, then at the window. Then she looks at me, upper lip curling. Her jaw moves around her chewing . "Sheesh," she says. All the boredom and apathy in the world goes into that one syllable.
I laugh and look down my plate to gather a spoonful of rice and bring it to my mouth.
She drops the bones, wipes her fingers in a paper napkin, picks up her wine and take a small sips. "Seriously, how are you doing?"
