With a purple backpack at her feet and a large handbag hanging from her shoulder, she stood in the lobby and watched Walter's disconcert unfold after opening his door for her.
"Can I crash here?" The voice in her question did not sound like hers. Coarseness had claimed it, like a dry cough was keeping her throat and vocals hostage. Twitching eyelids rubbed painfully against her irritated eyeballs. When he didn't answer, she realized offering an explanation was the least she could do. The man was probably simply waiting for one. "My dad's there and the whole apartment stinks of smoke and booze. I would've stayed if Dana was there but-"
"You don't have to explain," he interrupted her, taking hold of her backpack to let her know she could take the step she was so desperate to take.
Phoebe had nowhere else to go on that cold and solitary night in late February, when Jeff had claimed an overnight stay in her place. Her father was constantly between Connecticut and New York. Phoebe and Joanna naturally got the blame for this. She had no idea whether he still had a job, or if he was just making do somehow. But this routine was exhausting for her, and it had to be for him too, from the way he vented out in grey, poisonous clouds. It had gotten so bad, that it forced Phoebe to kick herself out of her own home.
Her reticent feet took her inside, but her hands fiddled with the strap of the handbag as if she was going to change her mind at any moment and leave him be.
The lights were dimmed as they usually were at such an hour. A flicker from the TV surprised her. Walter had apparently been perusing some grim crime show before she interrupted.
"I'm so sorry to impose on you like this..." She returned her attention to him after the sheltering surroundings managed to comfort her. They brought more peace than those pills ever could. "Are you sure it's cool?"
"Yes, it's 'cool'. You're always welcome here, you know that."
That acceptance from him, his unending selflessness toward her, it almost made her feel like spilling tears again... Sweet tears, for a change.
The scent of cigarette had stuck to Phoebe. As a frequent smoker, he wasn't bothered by it. But there was something tragic about it. One did not need to be a master at perception to know that there was an ick between her and smoking. The moment he'd fully realized it, he made an effort to avoid doing it in her presence, or at the minimum, near her.
Before tending to anything else, he got Phoebe a glass of water to help that parched throat.
"Make yourself at home while I accommodate the guest room."
Phoebe nodded her gratitude at the man before he took her stuff upstairs with him.
She curled up on the massive couch, hugging the glass between her hands, as if it contained a warm beverage rather than just water. After kicking off her sneakers, she placed them to the side in a parallel and neat position. This would save Walter the bother of doing it himself.
It was the first time she'd seen the fake fireplace on, crackling and swirling in pretend flames that gave the illusion of a similarly intense heat.
"All set."
Walter invited her to venture upstairs with a tilt of his head toward the upper floor.
"Thank you," she said, leaving the fireplace's deceitful sense of shelter behind to follow a more tangible ome.
The guest room was pristine, and it didn't seem like any guests actually stayed there. Rather, Walter apparently used it for storage, judging by the miscellaneous objects in there. Some of which were vintage treasures, containing both monetary value or personal value.
It had an en-suite too, and Phoebe couldn't wait to dust off that ashy odour off her, so she locked herself up in there the moment Walter left.
She checked in the medicine cabinet for mouthwash, which there was. But she also found something that mirrored her medicine cabinet back at home: prozac. If Walter also saw the need to depend on Prozac, the condition he'd provided an abridged explanation of had to be worse than she'd first thought.
She couldn't help the wince that overtook her when she began to change from her streets clothes into something more comfortable. The things she'd assembled into the backpack before leaving in a hurry so Jeff wouldn't catch her weren't ideal, but they'd have to do.
It'd been a while, and it wasn't as bad as it looked, but the feeling remained the same. She never looked at herself for longer than a spare second, if possible. It wasn't a pleasant view. Unlike the one she encountered outside once she was done getting ready for bed.
The view of that unconventional friend pacified her. He was right there next door. Office door wide open, letting her see how he worked, with his back toward the night city, feigning not to be aware that he stood out like the subject of a painting.
Eyeglasses obstructed the face she was used to seeing bare. Light from the table lamp bounced off the golden rims.
An invisible string pulled closer and closer, until she was right at his side.
"Still working?" She asked.
Phoebe sat atop the desk. The flowery pink cotton shorts she was wearing scrunched up a little when she did so, exposing more of her thighs to the warmth of the heated apartment.
"It's a tough one when the owners of two dying companies despise each other and don't want to compromise, but have to work together and merge."
A frown had been weighing down her lips, but they were slowly recovering the strength to smile again.
Kinda sounds familiar...
To keep her feet from dangling she propped them onto his lap. His frozen stare surveyed the bold contact as she went on to speak.
"I'm sure they'll make it work in the end."
One of her knee-high socks had fallen all the way down to her ankle, so the perfectionist man had to roll it right back up. If there was a chance that asymmetry could even remotely spoil the otherwise flawless image before his eyes, he wouldn't let it happen. He performed the rectification with the gentle precision of a surgeon, letting his digits caress the honey-like skin as they moved toward her knee.
There was no reason for Phoebe to shiver in that snug environment, but a pleasant shiver coursed through her nonetheless. It covered her skin with goosebumps that she worried he may have noticed before removing his attentive touch. Phoebe found herself missing it as soon as it left. Her toes wriggled against his thighs, seeking a little more electrifying contact.
Walter couldn't discern that the look on her face was of disappointment because of that departing touch. His assumption leaned more toward the incident with her father.
He rubbed the lower part of his face-the tell of a man who had a quandary looming over him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Phoebe looked away. "Not today."
"But if there's something else going on, even something that may be hard to share, you'll tell me, will you?"
She could turn to him, there was no doubt in that regard. But some imaginary zip on her mouth closed it up when it came to personal stuff.
"I will..." A yawn made her assent sound half-hearted.
The lights of the office turned off, the ones inside her temporary room showed the way. The man walked her over there as though the journey across the corridor was a long and perilous one.
Phoebe let her body fall backward onto the mattress. The posture made it appear like she was going to make snow angels on the white sheets.
"Give those eyes a good rest, Pheebs. "
He turned the switch off. The parallel lines of mood lighting on the corridor outlined his silhouette from the doorway.
"Goodnight, Walt," she muttered while he closed the door silently.
She turned on her side and tried her best to fall into slumber to the up-close view of the behemoth towers.
•
It wasn't even six o'clock when Walter spotted Phoebe trotting down the staircase.
"You always wake up this early for college?" He asked while stirring his coffee.
She shook her head and took a seat at the kitchen isle. The morning light bounced too brightly from the marble, but it made the sleepy daze go away. It reminded her of the he marble from the lobby on the ground floor of the tower. "Didn't want to miss you before you went to work so I could thank you again."
Walter made another cup for her. He set it in front of her, as well as handing her the whole jar of sugar.
Soon he finished his, so he started to walk to his bedroom. "I'll wait for you to get ready and we can get some breakfast before we part ways."
"Sounds good."
They grabbed a quick breakfast from the nearest vendor, but decided to not eat it in a rush and sat on the bench of a small plaza. Getting tired of watching the stressed passersby trying to get to their job on time, Walter glanced upward and the view made a light bulb appeared over his mind.
Phoebe didn't work at the tower anymore, so it was difficult for timing to coincide. Now the ideal chance to do something he'd been eager for her to see had presented itself. He already knew she would love it.
"Think you can swing by the tower after your classes?"
She wiped a sad excuse for a napkin over her crumbed lips before replying. "Um, why?"
"No reason."
There was definitely a reason, but she would play along.
"Sure." Phoebe squeezed his shoulder as she stood to throw the napkin and paper wrap into the trash can. "See you then."
Walter also stood. He took a few steps closer to her again. Something was keeping him from wanting to part ways. On the bright side, she'd agreed to see him later. He'd just have to be extremely patient.
"Will you get to NYU alright?" Any excuse to stretch out the conversation and delay the goodbye was a good one.
"Yeah, the subway does its job."
If you were to take me, though, I'd be the envy of the whole campus.
"Have a good day."
"You too!"
Regardless of the cheerful tone in her voice, Walter could read into it and tell it was forced.
He hoped his plan would cheer her up.
College-wise, the day didn't go great. The circumstances of the day before did nothing to help either.
Nothing could break Sylvia's focus. Meanwhile, the blank pages of Phoebe's notebooks served as a reminder of what her purpose looked like. If she was still searching for one, then she was probably in the wrong place.
The more the girl observed Sylvia and most of the other classmates, this feeling grew. An itching urge to escape was as bad of a sign.
Stomps filled the 105th floor of Cantor Fitzgerald hours later, which had Walter sitting at his desk waiting for the door to his office to be brought down by an enthusiastic redhead.
"Someone's chirpy."
Phoebe went behind his chair, leaned over to hug him rather awkwardly from the back, and lowered her face next to his.
"I just couldn't wait to get here the whole day."
It was the escape she'd been wishing for, after all.
"To this grey office in this grey tower?"
To you, silly.
"Whatchu doing?"
"Still working on the merger." He shut the folder close. "But it can be put on hold."
As he pushed his chair back, Phoebe stepped away so he could stand. He buttoned his tan-colored jacket while Phoebe walked to the door.
"You can leave your backpack here. Just grab that scarf, though, you'll probably need it."
She left the backpack on the chair and took the grey scarf from his coat hanger, but kept her suspicious eyes on him.
"Where are we going?"
"Not far."
They waved at Gina as they passed by her. The woman watched them leave the office, and knowing her, she was surely dying from intrigue as much as Phoebe.
"Oh, not the restaurant, please," the girl told Walter when they stepped onto the lobby.
The environmental version of My Heart Will Go On came through the speakers. These were scattered over the whole complex, eager to be heard all throughout common, public areas.
"We're not going to the restaurant."
That became crystal clear when instead of calling the elevator, he headed for the service stairs, not without first taking a hold of her hand.
They climbed about three sets, and when Phoebe, feeling a little out of breath, saw yet another set of stairs, she wondered if that tower actually had an end to it.
Walter continued on the way up until he got to a locked metallic door. The fact that it was locked was no obstacle for him, however. His hand reached inside his pocket and then he unlocked it like he owned the place.
"I hope you're not afraid of heights." His hand remained steady on the handle.
"If I was, I wouldn't have been working at the one hundred and seventh floor, duh," she answered.
His head swayed, unconvinced.
Walter decided it was a good idea to zip the girl's green, white, and purple 'shell suit' windbreaker all the way up to her neck.
"This is another level, trust me."
Cold air rushed through the gap when Walter turned opened the door. Orange-tinted light splashed their faces. He offered his hand to her again, taking her up the last couple of steps up the very top. Soon, Phoebe was atop the highest point of the city, elevated by a tower that she started to believe had the main purpose of generating indelible memory after indelible memory.
There weren't any words that she could muster at first. They were all being held back by the surreal scenery. Real life had never seemed such like a scene from a movie as it did right at that moment.
"Quite literally another level." The rest of the city resembled a miniature mock-up that one would find in an architect's office. The usual sounds that emanated from it were muffled-distant ground-level problems drifting with the current of the air space in between. "How did you manage this?"
"Rod's a good friend." He did not elaborate, but in any case, Rod had to be a technician, because only maintenance was allowed up there.
There was barely safety railing. A carved gap across the roof interrupted the platform's reckless peak was what kept one from accidentally falling one hundred and ten stories down.
The South Tower was not far away, groups of tourists and possibly some locals waited to see the sunset. Walter had brought her up there for the same reason.
Humid fog surrounded them, but it did not cover the magnificent view, only part of the metropolis below. The colors across the horizon morphed in nebulas of yellow, orange, pink, and purple.
"This is more than amazing... It's otherworldly. Seeing it from behind the... Well, the 'windows on the world' didn't have the same effect."
The girl sat at the edge of the platform, facing the orange sun and soaking it up as she let her legs dangle by the gap. Walter joined her at her left before posing a curious fact.
"You know, the architect of these towers, Minoru Yamasaki, did have a fear of heights. That's why the windows are so thin, they supposedly make the view less intimidating."
Closing her eyes for a moment and breathing deep brought her a remarkable peace of mind. She definitely did not share the same issue as Mr Yamasaki.
"Hm, I bet he never dared to set foot up here."
Cold pinched the tip of her nose and her cheeks. But Phoebe more or less found a solution by pressing the side of her face against the shoulder of the man next to her, making his heart rattle his ribcage.
He opened his arm to envelope her closer, keep her warm. However, the cold had already left Phoebe's body in an instant. A special kind of warmth filled her from the inside out. It was tingly, exciting, but mostly, it felt safe. Like the warmth of a fireplace from a house surrounded by snow. Thankfully, though, the snow had given New York a rest for the time being. Otherwise, being on that rooftop would've been infeasible.
The mist made the sun rays glow ethereally. Phoebe absorbed each second of it-it was probably the closest view she would ever get of Heaven.
"I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful."
Walter got something out from the inside pocket of his coat. He handed the object to her: a small silver digital camera.
"Brought this in case you wished to capture it." He gestured toward the sun.
"Neat!" Phoebe fiddled with it and eventually heard the beep of the camera turning itself on.
Naturally, the first subject under the lens had to be Walter, whom she caught off guard. He'd moved at the same time she and pressed the button, producing a blurry deformed version of his normally attractive face. Rather than Walter, it looked like a ghost.
Ugly laughter burst out of her at his expense.
"Delete that."
"You know full well I'm keeping this camera until I can make a copy of this." When he tried to reach for it, she was quick to evade. "It's gonna be my screensaver on both computers."
"You're pure evil."
To make up for teasing him, Phoebe returned to her previous spot.
"Scoot closer," she told him so she could point the lens toward themselves.
Leaning her head against his, this time Phoebe took a much nicer photo. Walter's smile on it overshadowed everything else. The photo became an instant treasure.
Soon after pointing the camera toward the South Tower, the tourists over there spotted the both of them and began waving at the solitary pair occupying their own private observation deck. It made Phoebe chuckle and lower the camera to avidly wave back.
She lifted both arms up in the air after standing up, springing like she was doing jumping jacks.
"Hi!"
"Stop jumping," he said, sounding tense.
Walter stood back into the gap and took a few steps to the left corner of the tower, the closest point between both buildings.
"Go back to your business!" He shouted at them.
"Walt," Phoebe called him with an accompanying giggle.
He turned toward her. "Yes?"
"Leave them alone. They're just curious as to why we're up here. Maybe they think we snuck up."
The hairs that stuck out around the edge of her mane were lit with the same glow as the rays, making it appear as though a heavenly halo had been bestowed upon her. That alone sufficed to make Walter forget about the other people, to make him stray away from his micro-managing mind.
The light was soon to disappear, but it clung onto her features. It entered her irises, making them shine like Mars trapped inside a crystal globe. It splashed in dapples across her face, bringing out her numerous freckles. Earth-tones were depicted all throughout her. Walter believed in only one God, but that instance tempted him to refer to Phoebe as 'Gaia'.
Self-consciousness started to sink in after having his gaze on her for so long. She was afraid he could notice any flaws.
In contrast, she was thinking of him as nothing other than perfect. Walter had captured something in her, and she finally came to terms with what it was. Not even her stubbornness could or wanted to prevent it. He may have been a man twenty-four years her senior, and with whom she barely shared anything in common... But perhaps that was part of the whole reason for it; the discovery that opposites really did attract-at least in her case.
He was now blocking the lowering sun with his stature. His considerable stature that she worried might become an obstacle against her next hasty decision.
Phoebe jumped into the gap with him only so she could prop herself up on her tiptoes. And that little boost was still almost not enough. But a mere height difference could've never stopped that stubborn girl from reaching Walter's lips to land a hurried, swift peck on them.
Once it was done, she sat down again, pretending nothing had taken place.
The target of her little demonstration barely had time to process it. He was locked in a stoic position, arms jammed at his sides in a way that would have allowed him to blend in amongst Egyptian statues. Yet, the short-lived kiss had left a phantom sensation, and it left him longing for more.
Walter was once again observing her through veiled eyes. Phoebe couldn't stand the timid dread that maybe she'd made a mistake, and possibly ruined their strange, delicate friendship once again.
"You're gonna miss the sunset," she said to break the foreboding silence.
"I'm sorry."
That statement was so out of place that she could only squint her eyes at him. If anyone was to be apologizing, it would have to be her. She'd invaded his personal space. He didn't seem mad, though. Quite the contrary. It was frustratingly puzzling.
"For what?"
"You're going to miss it too."
"Huh?"
All previous thoughts and doubts dissipated into the abyss when the man got closer. Sensing just how close he wished to get, Phoebe instinctively parted her legs to allow him that proximity. The second he got in between them, one of his hands settled upon her thigh. It was just a hand, but it touched down and unfurled like lightning across her body.
He cradled her cheek and chin between his other hand in order to bring her face up to his. There was no deliberation on his part-Walter was a man on a mission. A mission to make up his mind once and for all. A peck was not enough for that... so he joined his mouth with hers and latched onto like his life depended on it.
Phoebe thought she heard distant cheers, but she couldn't have cared less about onlookers. Naturally, the only thing she was able to focus on was the man stuck to her face.
Walter did not think that his thin lips could've ever molded so perfectly against her plump ones, but they did. They showed her that she could no longer say that she had 'no experience'.
Even though she'd been paralyzed at the start-being her first kiss and all-no part of her wished to push him away. This full capitulation stunned her. She was allowing this forty-something year old man to claim her mouth. If Joanna knew, she would lose her mind. Not to even imagine how Jeff would react. Hell, most people would likely look away or shake their heads in disapproval. Except for their friends on the South Tower still cheering them on.
The tingles in her belly were telling her that it was more than okay. That she'd been looking forward to that kiss for way longer than she should've. If not to herself, who else would she listen to?
His hand moved to the back of her neck, tickling her as his fingers unraveled the short fluffy coils at the nape. This light pressure deepened the way their mouths cared for each other.
Each hungry gasp from him was met with another one from her. She was a mess at trying to keep up with him, and she knew it. It didn't matter at all, though. The way in which she sought him was endearing to Walter.
She was knocking on his ironclad heart... And he opened it up for her just like Rabbi Friedman had hoped.
Phoebe's teeth scraped his bottom lip when her clumsy craving for him grew with the darkness falling over the sky. This accidental nip was like a pinch in the arm for Walter; it brought him back to the top of that tower.
He backed away so fast that, for a second, Phoebe thought he might've ended up tipping over the edge.
Golden hour view of he north tower's rooftop from the south tower.