By the time I'm finished detailing the perfect sushi platter, on Uber eats, the dark indigo of night has cast it's gentle lull over the city. I'm not quite sure what I've been doing over the past two hours - except moving from room to room depending on the mood of the song that was playing. The remnants scattered around the rooms of my apartment certainly tell no correlating story.
A sliver of red wine sleeps at the bottom of my glass by my kitchen counter, another sits empty on the coffee table. The canvas is colourless except for a defeated streak of yellow and an abandoned paintbrush. The evidence suggests I might have also fallen asleep, judging by the rumpled duvet peeping through my bedroom door. The TV is muted with CNN highlights and a downturned book over the grey couch.
Nothing has been satisfying enough for me to stick with. The only thing vaguely resembling consistency is the near empty bottle of wine playing accomplice to the silky country music in the background.
I should have gone to Hal's. Atleast then I wouldn't feel so alone with my thoughts.
More annoyingly, with all my restlessness the unmistakable creep of arousal is constant; and the thought of pleasuring myself doesn't have any appeal. Yet my skin licks the air in anticipation of being touched, while the pads of my fingers long to taste something soft. At intervals I find myself seducing my reflection on the night blackened window.
My lips, poutier than usual, disappear between my teeth as I examine my flushed face like a professional model. I must say this is probably the sexiest I've looked in a while.
My reflection tilts its head against the backdrop of the glittering city lights. A portrait of Van Gogh's Starry Night, the lights' energy pulsates too quickly for the eye to see any more than just tiny flickers. They fascinated me. A reminder of the constant wakefulness of human life. Although it was far from my style of portrait photography, city lights were an image I'd captured countless times in different aperture settings, simply for the joy of it.
While my view is great, I can't help but mope at the waste of my appearance and mood right now.
Liz was an idiot. She was an idiot for not being here to ravish me. She was an idiot for not being there to let me call her and bait her into some innapropriate frustration over the phone. After all, that's what she wanted from me. But she wasn't even doing that!
Honestly, if Liz isn't going to do what she was supposed to as my lover she could atleast explain why she hadn't reached out to me for the past three days.
Not a text or even a measly apology.
I have to hear it for myself.
If she doesn't want to be with me I'd rather she just says it out loud than to hurt me. After all the leeway I've given her, I did not deserve this. Hal was right, I deserved answers.
And tonight she'll give them to me.
I punch the intercom with my index finger while letting it hold me up.
"Carlson could you come up please."
My walk to the kitchen is bolstered by the desire to compose myself. The glass of water feels like the Messiah herself as the clear liquid travels through my parched throat.
I'm not delusional about the fact that I am slightly intoxicated. Running my hands over my face is an adventure of exploration through discovering the amazingly pliable and soft textures of my face. I'm not drunk however.
My cheeks are definitely softer than my nose area though.
I know I'm inebriated by the swimming lightness of my head and because my train of thought keeps oscillating between, the piece of my mind that I'm going to give Liz, and the illuminated beauty of mundane objects around me. In my jumbled thoughts I can still see clearly so I still have clarity of mind.
Ohh -it is suddenly clicking to me. That must be what Hal meant. I guess she was right because now clarity really is clear to see.
I can't help the giggling fit that escapes me.
This probably isn't as funny sober.
Maybe a scalding hot shower will help.
The polite knocking on the door stops me midway to my bathroom.
"Oh Carlson." I exclaim after opening. I thought it was the food and honestly I might have forgotten that he was coming up.
"Mam." The immovable square of a man stands legs shoulder apart.
"Ah yes," I lean against the door frame with my hand under my chin. "I was wondering Carlson, with your expertise - if I was looking for someone could you find them?"
The pause is pregnant with confusion and awkwardness. Enough to make me realise I've worded that quiet vaguely.
"It depends mam." He prompts.
"Elizabeth." I swallow the admission bravely. I have nothing to fear with Carlson, but I guess old habits die hard.
"I would like you to find out where Elizabeth lives. Could you do that?"
The slow bow-like nod he gives is very telling. He thinks this is a bad idea. But squares don't ask questions they simply do their job as quietly and effectively as possible.
"Yes mam." He says.
"And how long would that take?"
"About a minute." At the raise of my eyebrow he explains. "We have background checks on everyone with direct contact with you."
Of course! If I wasn't so focused on trying to keep a dead sober stare at my head of security I would have been beaming at him as if he was the holy grail bathed in holy golden light.
"I need the address please." I calmly say.
The man doesn't so much as flinch in question as he turns to the side to echo instructions to what seems to be open air.
"Yes mam. Let me also call George so he can take you?" He turns to me.
The demand is phrased as a question. But I can see my head of security has no intention of letting me go off alone anywhere tonight.
"Yes, uh - thank you." I say.
Although he leaves with the usual curt 'mam' there are two very obvious things that I know right now. One, I would forever cherish Carlson for being privy to the ins and outs of my personal life, but doing it with the most noninvasive discretion.
Two, I needed a little more sobering up than I had initially thought.
Yes, a cold shower would be better.
**** **** ****
"Thank you George."
The last thing I do before stepping onto the black polished steps at 2730 Wisconsin Avenue is to text Mahalia that I'm taking her advice.
*I took your advice, but going to the lover instead. Wish me luck.*
