That night was pure agony. I paced around my living room endlessly, my mind racing with the unfortunate events that had transpired. My cellphone lay on top of the coffee table facing up with the volume on the highest setting. It was like I was expecting a call from God– or perhaps the devil himself.
Emilio's going to kill you. I deserved it. I deserved every bad thing coming my way. If Emilio were to barge into my apartment and beat me to death with a crowbar, I wouldn't object or try to fight back. No – on second thought, he would pummel me to death. A man that spent that much time at the gym would surely prefer to use his fists instead. Besides, I imagine there's a certain carnal desire to strangle your enemy with your bare hands; to feel their life slip from between your fingers as you crush their esophagus. Yes, Emilio would definitely prefer to use his hands. You should just save him the trouble and drive off a cliff. I felt a brief sense of comfort at the thought of it. I imagined how my mother would feel when they discovered my mangled body and quickly shook off the thought.
I needed to do something. Anything. I picked up my phone and stared at the screen. Suddenly, I scrolled through my contacts and landed on Celeste's number. I dialed her without thinking and held the phone to my ear. What are you doing?!
The line rang twice with no answer. I began to get nervous. Maybe she's not by the phone?
I imagined her curled up in her bed, reading some sappy romance novel and ignoring her cell phone ringing on her nightstand. She would pick up the phone in a minute, she thought, after she had finished the long-awaited chapter. It was just too hard to resist. She could always just return the call – if the caller was important enough.
The line rang a third time.
Now she was reaching the climax of the story. The hero had just defeated the villain by some incalculable chance and was riding his white steed to the castle to profess his love to the princess. Celeste's eyes would be glued to the book, her heart pacing with anticipation and desire. Would the hero make it to her in time?
The line rang a fourth time.
Now the hero was close. He had reached the castle and approached the princess's chambers. He opened the door to see her sitting there in her luxurious gown, waiting for him. Only him. She had been waiting a long time for this moment, maybe even her whole life. He approached her cautiously, and without saying a single word, pulled her in by the waist and dipped her ballroom-style. Their eyes met briefly before he pulled her into a kiss. Celeste could barely contain her excitement. Now the phone call did not matter at all. Her fictitious world was more important than a phone call from someone who wasn't even the hero of his own story; someone who could never save her, but rather, needed to be saved. Did she ever wish she could be kissed by a masked hero? Had she ever been kissed at all?
"You've reached Celeste, I'm sorry I couldn't pick up your call. Please leave a message!"
I ended the phone call in defeat. What a stupid idea. I sprawled myself on my bed. I wasn't even sure what I would say to her if she picked up. Would I tell her the truth? No, surely not. I could never expose myself to Celeste; she would never talk to me again. I was done being a disappointment to others and I couldn't handle another rejection. For some reason, the thought of losing her scared me more than the fear of Emilio beating the life out of me. Maybe it was because I felt like I deserved to be punished for what I had done, but losing Celeste would be a punishment I didn't think I deserved – yet. I knew I would manage to drive her away eventually, it was just a matter of when. I could never convince anyone to stay with me for long, and Celeste was no exception. I was unlovable and that was the cold, hard truth.
Ring! Ring! My heart stopped. I peered down at my phone in disbelief. It was Celeste.
"Hello?"
"Dante? Did you call?" My heart fluttered at the sound of my own name.
"Yeah, I did. Sorry to bother you, I know you must be busy," I started nervously.
"I'm not busy! My phone was on silent," She sounded almost out of breath. "What's up?"
I froze. I didn't know what to tell her, or what not to tell her. I panicked.
"Are you busy tonight?" The words came pouring out of my mouth like an open faucet.
"No. Why?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to – see me." God, I felt stupid.
Celeste paused for a second. "I'd like that. What do you want to do?" She sounded kind of shy.
"Anything. I could pick you up." Did I just ask her on a date?
"Okay," She took a pause. "How should I dress?"
Her question caught me by surprise. "However you want, I guess?"
"Okay. Pick me up at 8?"
"Sure."
The call ended abruptly. Almost immediately, I received a text with Celeste's address. I set the phone down and stared at my feet. Is this really what I want or is it an escape? I wasn't sure, but I didn't really care. I just needed to get out of my own head.
Nighttime rolled around sooner than I expected. I stared at myself in the mirror. I had on a white button down shirt with a flimsy black tie. My hair looked slightly disheveled so I tried smoothing it out with some water. A date. The concept was foreign to me. I hadn't been on a real date for a long time. I wasn't the best at talking to girls, and they weren't too keen on me either. Whatever I knew about dates, I had learned from the movies. Open the door for her, buy her dinner, and if the mood is right, kiss her. I shook the thought from my mind. No, this wasn't a real date. There would be no doors or dinners or kissing. This was just two friends – no, acquaintances spending time together. Nothing more. Surely, Celeste did not think of it as a date so why should I? I threw on my overcoat and ran my fingers through my hair one more time before I walked outside into the brisk air. As I walked to the car, I reached in my coat pocket and took out my pack of Camels. I placed a cigarette between my teeth and raised the lighter to my lips when suddenly, I hesitated. Better not smell like an ashtray. I carefully placed the cigarette back into its pack and trudged along.
Celeste lived in a small, run-down apartment that was just a block away. Although the dimly-lit street light gave it an eerie presence, there was a certain charm in the antiquity of her building. Although my apartment was no spectacle, it was definitely built a few decades after Celeste's. I pulled over right in front of the structure and got out of the car. I checked the time: 7:59 PM. She should be out any minute. My stomach tied itself into several knots. I started fidgeting with my pack of Camels in my pocket. Am I nervous? There was no doubt about that. My tie felt tight around my neck, like a noose. I ripped it off and hastily shoved it into my coat pocket. I unbuttoned the first button on my shirt and took a deep breath. Here we go.
Celeste appeared in front of the doorway not a minute too late. My heart leapt at the sight of her. She wobbled down the stairs in her mini heels, holding the railing for support. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, I extended my arm to help her off the last step. She smiled bashfully and held my arm.
"You actually came," she let out a nervous laugh.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, you've stood me up before!" She looked amused. That time at the cafe. I could tell she was only poking fun at me but there was always a little hint of truth in jokes. She was trying to get a reaction out of me.
"Well, I wanted to...make it up to you." I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth. Her eyes instantly lit up. I had said what she wanted to hear.
"You did?"
"Yeah." I replied flatly. I was surprised she didn't catch my bluff.
Her eyes glittered in the moonlight. "So, where are you taking me?"
"It's a surprise." I lied. I just needed to buy more time to figure out where exactly I would be taking her.
Celeste was wearing a white long-sleeved blouse that exposed her collar-bones and a dark skirt. The skirt clung to her waist, giving her a curvier appearance, and ended just above her knees. She was wearing a modest, yet daring shade of red lipstick. She definitely thinks this is a date.
I led her to my car and opened the passenger-side door. Fuck, this is a date. She clumsily lowered herself into my car and immediately put on her seatbelt. I joined her on the driver's side. I started driving towards the city, trying to think of a suitable place for a date. Celeste placed her hands on her lap and stared out of the window. She was more quiet than usual. She's probably shy. I couldn't imagine why.
I made a sharp right turn on Hollywood Boulevard. Surely there would be someplace to eat here. I stopped at a red light and watched the pedestrians cross in front of me. My eyes surveyed them cautiously, like I was expecting to recognize someone. A girl with curly hair walked by holding a man's hand. My heart stopped for a second before I realized they were only strangers; that my mind was playing tricks on me. I couldn't stop thinking about Janna and Emilio. The kiss, the fight, the betrayal. The images of the day's events played in my mind's eye like a broken record. The guilt was too much to bear.
Fuck you, Dante Belmont. Her words rang in my ears as clearly as I heard them the first time.
I tightened my grip on the wheel. Surely, we wouldn't bump into them tonight? The thought sent a shiver up my spine. No, Los Angeles was a big city. There was no chance of running into them, and besides, there was no guaranteeing that Janna had even told Emilio what had happened. He would've called me if that were the case. I was safe – for now.
Los Angeles truly was the city of broken dreams. Thousands of wanna-be movie stars and influencers bustled through the city waiting to be noticed by some sleazy talent agent only to end up doing cheap pornography. Hell, I was willing to bet that every waiter or bartender in the greater Los Angeles area was once an aspiring actor who thought they had a chance. Then, once they realized they didn't, the shame of moving back to their greasy hometown forced them to stay in some run-down apartment in Hollywood, living paycheck to paycheck. As a writer, Los Angeles scared the hell out of me as much as it intrigued me. My work would either end up becoming Hollywood's next blockbuster film or end up in a heap of trash in some production company's recycle bin. LA was a postcard city, one great mirage; a pipe dream. I was nobody until I was a somebody. Would I ever be somebody?
Celeste rested her face in her palm as she leaned on the window, looking out at the bright, flashing lights of the city. Her hair reflected the red taillights of cars as we passed the Dolby Theater. She looked rather beautiful tonight, and I caught myself catching glances of her when I thought she wasn't looking. I couldn't explain why but my heart felt lighter when I remembered she was there; freer. A sense of relief. She turned to look at me and flashed a smile.
"What are you thinking about?"
I smiled to myself. "Everything."
I was used to ruining a lot of things for myself, whether it was through sheer stupidity or self-sabotage. I didn't think I deserved any better, of course, but this felt different. Despite all the damage I had done during the day, the night was still young. I had plenty of opportunities to ruin the good things in my life tomorrow or even the next day. However, I thought to myself, maybe not tonight.
.
Author's Note
Hi everyone! I'm so excited to finally post this chapter! This was by far, one of my favorites to write and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you for all the love and support!❥
P♡
p.s. Dont forget to vote and comment!