I opt for a pair of oversized trackpants and hoodie—all white—and grab my stuff before leaving the flat.
I mentally check that I thought about everything, laptop, phone, charger, notebook, and, fuck it.
I lock the door with the keys and stuff them inside my bag.
If I forgot something, then I won't die.
I have classes with Lina today.
Meaning I have criminology.
Surprisingly, the subjects aren't boring to me.
I thought I would get bored with time, or that some of the classes wouldn't be as interesting since we can't appreciate everything.
Well, I can.
Whether it's criminology or psychology.
And it is way better than high school.
I climb down the stairs, and my eyes lay on a masculine back as I reach the bottom. I keep walking, observing his moves, as he puts a sign on the wall.
"Hi," I greet, out of politeness.
He turns to face me, and I freeze as his eyes meet mine.
My brain cannot process what I am seeing.
He seems to have frozen as well, since he keeps his gaze on me. Not letting a single word out.
What is he doing here?
I try to discern what's on the paper, what could he possibily be putting on the wall of my house. Technically the building isn't mine, but this is where I live. And I bet he knows it. Or does he not?
"So, that's where you live?" He surprisingly lets out.
My eyes scan him entirely, from his buzzcut to his new balance shoes. Buzzcut guy.
"Why playing surprised?" I raise an eyebrow, put keep my tone cool.
Don't want to put me in more trouble than I already went through.
"Didn't know that it was this rent that you were paying to my uncle."
So, the bastard was his uncle.
I approach the paper on the wall, and I swear, my curiousity will kill me one day.
It is a photo, of a white cat. 'HAVE YOU SEEN HIM'. Followed by a phone number.
My eyes are stuck on the picture, and anxiety fills my chest little by little as recognizion strikes.
I shit you not, this cat looks exactly like Saide.
The cat Lina found in the street.
Fuck.
I open my mouth but shut it right before words could come out.
What the fuck is going on?
Is this cat Saide?
Did Lina literally kidnapped a cat that didn't belong to her?
Lina wouldn't do that. She cares about the cat too much. She wouldn't separate him from his family.
"You've seen that cat around here?" The voice is literally so close I startle, and turn around to meet the buzzcut guy's murderous eyes.
Mine are widening a bit, seeing nothing behind these icy grey eyes of his, but some disturbing sensation.
This man is not in his right mind. Something's off. Clearly off.
"Huh...No...sorry."
He stares at me a little longer.
"I'll call if I see him." I touch the behind of my neck straight out of embarassment.
Then his gaze entirely shifts, and I kid you not, a very slight smile spreads his lips.
"Hum...are you...you fine dude?" I find myself asking, because his state obviously is concerning.
See, every single person has some sort of emotion radiating off them, wheter it's anxiety, sadness or even madness for some. Some really really hide it deep down, it's almost impossible to catch it, but somehow I still manage to find it.
But this guy right there, he's deranged.
Something is definitely radiating off him, but I can't quite catch what it is.
So I push my luck for once, I search deeper. "What's your name?"
His brows flash up a bit. "Why?"
"It was just a random question..." I glance sideways.
Paranoid maybe? Apprehension?
He's here for something. Not only sharing the paper.
"Cyan," He says with such calmness. Almost with a smile.
"Lence,"
"I know, I saw your informations when my uncle talked about your rent."
"Oh. Are you the next man asking for it?"
He's trying to connect the dots, wondering what the fuck I am talking about. The rent.
"Probably not."
I nod calmly as an answer. He's one of them.
I already guessed, but now I have the comfirmation. The most accurate verification would be on his inner lower lip, but it would be innapropriate.
Did he believe me when I said I didn't know his cat?
Apprehension isn't it. Madness isn't it. Anger even less. So what is it?
My mouth opens as my slow fucking brain cells make up the link, but I close it before embarassing myself.
Curiousity.
He's not wondering who I am. Not what's going on in my life.
But he's curious about me and most accurately the past. It's related to the rent.
Fierty fills up my upper body.
"Well, hope you find your cat," I adress him a warm smile and get the fuck out of here.
I look back, watching him watching me leave.
Then bumps into something cold.
The door.
Silly me.
I swallow, and open the door only to find a brown leather jacket right in front of me.
"The fu—" I stop myself from swearing as I look up.
I frown.
He frowns.
Silence builds up, and a million questions pops in my mind.
Why is there any possible situation happening today? Am I going nuts?
"Why are you here?" I firstly ask.
"What?"
"Are you following me?" I frown again.
It is Mr leather jacket.
That biker I caused to crash.
What is he doing here?
At the bottom of my apartment.
Can I have a day without anything weird happening?
"Why would I be following you?"
"I don't know, I meet you two times in the street then you literally save me from murder then I find you on my way to college when you know exactly where I live?"
"I'm doing my business, I didn't even remember you."
Shame crawls up my chest, to my cheeks, but I remind myself of the possibility of my guess. He could have been following. At least there's a slight chance.
I do what I should, and simply get out of his face and leave.
────────────
CAIN
I glance sideways, watching her leave to god knows where.
I might start to believe she's the one stalking me. Or us.
I join Cyan inside, and catch him pasting papers on the walls.
"Is it you who scared the lady?" I let out.
"What? No, I was being friendly. She said she didn't see Ice."
"Nobody knows where your cat is, give up Cyan." I notice the at least five papers. "Al will break your neck when he sees you're vandalizing the walls of his building."
"Well, soon, it's gonna be someone else's building. So who cares. I'm the one who's going to break the neck of the person who kidnapped my baby."
I roll my eyes, and get inside the rooms on the right. I'll have to check everything is in place.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, following me, arms full of white signs.
"Checking."
"Alright. Hey, how'd you know the lady?"
"What?"
"The lady who left some minutes ago."
"How do you know I know her?"
"Don't know," He shrugs. "I guessed. The way she talked to you."
Now what do I use as an excuse.
Can't use the bike crash, neither the kill she witnessed.
"Bumped into her in the streets," I start. "In the middle of the night when she was drunk."
────────────
LENCE
"What about something like that Ford right there?" He points to a car in an alley of used cars.
"Over my cold, dead body. This thing looks worse than that guy we saw yesterday."
"You DID NOT." One of his hands covers his mouth, hiding a smile. "But you can't have clean sport cars if you're on a budget. The best option is used cars."
"These cars are shit Oliver."
"Well, it's YOU who brought me here. I'm tryna help." He crosses his arms.
"Should I just get a motorcycle instead?" I sigh. "It'll be easier and way much funnier."
"Nooo a car would be better, can fit more people, less loud, and a bike is hard to clean."
"But it's MY choice and I kinda like bikes."
"Well, I'm just SPEAKING MY OPINION! Why did you even ask for my help in the first place if you didn't want it!"
My mouth falls open. "WELL—I was getting SICK of searching for it ALONE I thought some help could have been useful! It's the fifth shop I'm visiting and still not a single clue for what I want! You're supposed to agree with everything I propose except the dumb ideas!"
"The fuck you mean the dumb ideas! It's not an opinion if I agree with everything!"
"Well—just...just fuck it, I'm getting a bike."
"But you said you would go for a car last time. You'll have to take a decision and stick to it! I can't agree with you if you change every damn time! Gof or a bike then."
"That's what I said yes."
He shake his head in disbelief.
"Hey, can I help you?"
We both turn to the seller, fake smiling to look nicer.
"Hi, hum...I'm a student looking for a car, I need something to go to college, and the train just isn't it."
I can feel Oliver rolling his eyes next to me, probably because I finally opted for a car instead of a bike.
"Okay, any idea of what you want? Are you on a budget or anything?"
"Huh, no I'm not on a budget but I would prefer something cheap because going for luxury would be useless."
He nods. "Hmm, okay. Any preference about the brand?"
"Not really."
"Come with me,"
We both follow him, and I'm afraid of not fiding an option, again.
"You're the worse person when it's about decision." Oliver mumbles low enough so the seller doens't hear.
"Well, you shouldn't have come if you don't like it!"
His whole face turns in shock, as if I had just stabbed him in the back. "You're the one who BEGGED for me to come with you."
The seller speaks up. "So, we're large on the options, we've got new arrivals lately, a lot, so you'll have a lot of options."
I nod.
I like the guy. He's approachable, friendly, I bet I could be friends with him. He's our age, and this is probably a part time job since we're on the week-end and he's young. He's got to know stuff about mechanics and cars.
────────────
The doors of the train close, inflicting our ears an unbereable sound.
Lina seems to look for a seat but since every single one is taken, the four of us stay standing.
"Oh Lence by the way, did you find that car you were looking for?" Kate asks.
"Yeah, I gave in and just bought a new small BMW. The others were trash."
"Yeah, after torturing me for at least an hour. Even the seller couldn't take it anymore." Oliver says.
"Well, sorry for taking my time to take the right decision."
"OH! I didn't tell you!" Kate cuts us. "I passed. The project in my class that I asked you help with remember?"
I forgot about that.
Kate asked, and I agreed. I didn't know it was for using us as models.
Never again.
"That's great! You can ask me again anytime you want, I'm down for it." Lina says.
Not surprising from Lina, she'll be a model if she could.
I don't know what's holding her back though. I think it's because she has a hate-love relationship with confidence.
Yet she's completely stunning. With her black dress and high boots that stop at the bottom of her thighs. Stunning.
────────────
We walk through the crowd of people, and I notice that this place looks more like a bar than a casual student party.
There are a few tables around, even a bar. A fucking bar, with a barista and shelves full of alcohol.
Maybe it's me who didn't understand when Oliver said 'we're going partying'. I thought it was going to be a party at some people's houses.
"I'll be right back, need to go to the bathroom," Oliver informs before disappearing.
We decide to sit at the bar with the girls, and a few minutes later, Kate's friends join us.
"The guys are around some table in the room," They inform her.
"Should we start taking shots?" One of them asks.
And twenty minutes later we found ourselves chatting and laughing.
We're on our fifth round, and the alcohol is starting to have an effect a bit. I'm feeling comfortable. It's great because my head's not spinning.
"Nah you know I don't do boyfriends," Kate replies to her friend, who has been talking about her problems with her boyfriend and Kate gave her some advice.
"Girl, dump him if he's talking to you like that," I follow, because how on earth can people let people talk to them like this.
It's great that we're only between girls right now. I finally got to talk with Kate's friends, got their names and got to know them better.
The brunette's name is Lynn. She's in Kate's class, they're childhood friends. She's got some trouble with her boyfriend. Which caught me off guard by the way, since I will never let someone treat me like that. He's often insulting her during arguments and shit.
The dark blonde's name is Lizzie. First thing I noticed about her : her 'I don't fucking care and never will' mindset.
The others are not here. I'm pretty sure I saw a black girl and a redhead with them before.
"Whatever, we told you our opinions, do whatever you want with them." Kate concludes.
"Break up with him." I snap quietly, nodding multiple times.
Because she's too pretty for someone like her 'man'. That's not even a man, it's a boy.
"Sixth round?" Lina offers.
We all nod, wait for the barista to place the shots in front of us and drink it all down.
It doesn't even burn my throat anymore. It feels good, though.
Fifteen minutes after, we find ourselves talking about some color charts shit, something that's apparently liked by Kate and Lizzie a lot, since they've been carrying half of the discussion by just the both of them. The best colors that could fit me are apparently white, red and black. Lizzie's thinking brown is looking great on me too but Kate is denying it. They said Lynn is definitely purple. Lina is grey and white. That's their statements.
I noticed that Kate loves beige and pink. Lizzie's green and pink.
"What about you?" Lynn asks. "Any plans for after college?"
"I have not a single idea. I mean probably something with criminals and shit. Catching criminals. But I'm not sure if I'm though enough."
"Why'd you have to be though?"
"Well criminals are mostly deranged people. Psychopaths and all that stuff. So most of the time it's pretty violent. You have to be strong mentally. It's a must."
"Oh, you're one of those." She grins. "Catching psychopaths and crazy people. I could never. That's too scary to me."
"I find it amazing. Reading minds and all. That shit's thrilling."
"Where does that come from?"
"I don't know," I shrug. "It started from loving analyzing stuff when I was little. Then I was interested in criminals. Then switched to the crazy ones like you call them. It's not scary to me it's just very interesting."
And I have no idea why.
I just need to understand them. How they work. At some point I started to worry if it was healthy to be so attracted to that but I found out that I just have a constant need to analyze everything and find the 'why' of anything. And plus, I'm really good at guessing. So it just feels like the right path to me.
"What about you? You didn't tell me why you were in fashion school." I continue.
"Oh, I LOVE clothing. Assembling pieces of clothing and imagining outfits. That is what I call thrilling. It's satisfying as hell."
Forty minutes and a few shots later, we finally decide to join the guys, and find them sitting around a round table.
Oliver, Loris, Max, Cleo and a few more people that I ignore the name of. I've never seen them in my entire life. I've probably seen the dark-haired asian boy before. I think he's in Kate's group of friends. Cleo is never with girls though. She's definitely not a girl's girl.
They start sitting on chairs, but unfortunately only Kate and Lizzie could have taken a seat. Now there's no seat available.
"Want me to get you a seat?" Loris says.
"Nah," I start, and sit on his lap instead. "I'm good."
Since all the girls are sitting on people, I'm not going to bother myself getting a chair. And I know Loris enough to sit on him. Lina's sitting on Max at the other end of the table.
I'm officialy dumb, because the most normal seat I could have taken was Oliver's lap. Right on Loris' right. But switching seat now would be weird. So I stay in my place.
"Let's continue our never have I ever!" One of the guys announces, filling up glasses. "Who's playing?"
All the girls raise their hands, so he fills up six more glasses and slides them on the entire table so it reaches us.
I grab mine, stopping it from spilling on me. Loris is gripping his own.
"Okay, which question have we not asked yet?"
"Not the ones we already did, would be unfair." Loris exclaims.
I turn my gaze to Oliver, and see his flushed cheeks. "You're drunk aren't you?" I tease.
"Hmm-hmm." He nods, smiling and still red.
Oliver's overly cute when he's blushing and smiling. I bet his next girlfriend is going to fall for this.
"Okay! I'm starting," Some guy intervenes. "Never have I ever...did the deed but in high school. Like inside the school."
"Wow, it's not starting with the easy questions," I notice, and drink down my shot.
"YOU DID?!" Loris exclaims.
"Yeah..." I'm blushing, thanks to the alcohol. I'm too hot. I didn't look at the people to see who drank their shot.
I let the guy fill up my drink and a few more.
"Lina your turn,"
"Okay," She thinks. "Never have I ever..."
"A hard one!"
"Never have I ever flirted to have something I wanted."
I try searching for it in the back of my mind, but I don't think I did.
Oliver is drinking. As Loris. As literally half of the people around the table.
I'm kinda proud I never did that.
The drinks fill up again, and it's Oliver's turn somehow.
"Never have I ever gotten arrested by the police."
Loris drinks, clearly shocking me. Cleo and Max does so, like a couple of people.
"WHAT?! Why?!"
"I was drunk." Loris explains. "And messed up in public. Can't remember it very clearly but I surely remember the policemen. Fuckers." He swears.
────────────
I sigh, realising that I'm still awake.
Fucking sleeping troubles.
I slowly realise the noise coming from the living room, and my heart sinks.
There is a fucking banging on the door.
I check my phone, and the hour is confusing me even more. It's one in the fucking morning.
"What the fuck is this..." I push the comforter off, and get inside the living room without switching the lights on.
I'm dizzy. Another loud noise is heard, and I startle.
I rush to it in anger, ready to kill the motherfucker that's behind this sick joke. I need fucking sleep.
I open the door, and the person in front of me freezes.
It takes time for my brain to understand.
"Leather jacket?" I let out. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I frown, almost squint, given that the light of the corridor is blinding me. "Is this a fucking joke?" Anger starts to rise. "I'm not in the street to bump into you at one in the fucking morning so you're coming at my apartment? I might start to truly believe you're fucking following me. What's next? You drive me over with your fucking bike?"
He stares at me unfazed. Is he going to talk?
"You done?" He says.
"Excuse you?"
"The rent?"
"I was sleepi-" I stop.
I am completely flabbergasted. Standing on my feet, I stare at him in total confusion.
"The rent?" I repeat, and then remember that it is the first of October.
"You have a rent to pay."
I have a million questions but the only thing that gets out of my mouth is "Don't fucking tell me you're one of them?"
"Excuse you?"
My mouth falls open. I'm stunned. Is the universe pulling a cruel joke on me? Because that's what it is. A fucking joke.
"I-"
"Hurry, it is one in the morning and I would like to sleep. Give the money."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're the one coming at my house in the middle of the night. Couldn't you come during the day?"
"I did. You weren't there."
"Oh." My cheeks begin to flush. Thankfully, it is too dark for him to see. I hope.
Then embarassment takes over me as I look down at myself. I'm only in boxers and shirt.
Never in my life have I ever been modest when it's about my body. So why the fuck do I feel the need to hide and curl myself into a ball so he won't see me.
"Are you going to give me the money or are we going to stand there all night staring at each other?"
"Oh-right..."
Then I remember.
That's great Lence, in addition to being forgetful about every single thing that's going on in your life, you have alzheimer's.
You fucking idiot. I forgot half of the cash. I was supposed to go take it yesterday.
"Huh...I..."
How do I say this without upsetting him?
Does he have a gun?
Oh fuck.
"Listen, I don't want to die..."
He frowns.
"I don't have half of the cash right now, can I give it to you in a few hours?"
Now that's him who's flabbergasted.
"Al fucking told me about this," He chuckles, glacing away.
"What?"
"You perfectly knew it was today. He warned you last time. Don't play dumb."
"Okay, listen," I turn the lights on and take a few steps back, stress rising in my chest. "I forgot I'm sorry, it's on me I know,"
He draws something from behind him, and takes a step in.
Fuck no.
"Fuck—no—"
I step back until I reach the kitchen units. "Can we please delay it for a few hours?"
"He told you we don't do delays you can't fool me."
How can I fool him?
What if I fake fainting? What if he kills me while I fall? No, no fainting.
My hand reach for a knife and when I grab it, the noise echoes in the entire room. "Don't fucking step closer. Or I'm gonna call the police."
I'm gonna fucking die.
Be ready to die Lence.
Why didn't I think of withdrawing the money before?
His gaze falls on something on my right, and I look at it.
It's the reminder I put on the fridge for myself. It's a note. 'WITHDRAW THE MONEY FOR FUCKER.'
"I'm sure we can find a deal." I let out.
"Yeah, the fucking deal was you give the money on the first day of the month. And you didn't respect it."
"Well—I forgot! It happens!" I want to collapse and cry. I want to die. I want the floor to split in two and me to disappear in it. "There's no problem in giving you the money in a few hours! You can even come with me to withdraw it!"
The cat suddenly moves in the living room, and lets out a meow.
The guy stares at him, as if he just saw a ghost.
What is happening?
He focuses back on me with his gun raised, towards me. "Don't fucking try to negotiate Violence, say it right now if you don't have it."
I stop dead in my tracks.
What?
"What did you just call me?" I frown. That's a joke? I am going to wake up right?
"By your name. Speak up about the money."
"I'm...How do you know my name? My real name?"
"Looked at your papers. Found your case. I know everything about the people I'm dealing with. Now stop trying to fool me and tell me the truth, do you have the money or not? I'll shoot you right there if you don't talk."
"You looked at my information? That's fucking creepy. I was right when I said you were following me. You're a fucking stalker."
He doesn't make move.
"That's not my name."
"What?"
"Lence. That's Lence." I correct.
"Not what it said on the papers."
"Because it's ridiculous. It's not violence. It's Lence."
That shit's going to make me sick. I'd rather die than being called Violence ever again. What even went through their minds when they decided to call me that? Everyone is sick.
"I'd prefer you call me Lence. Please." I'm still holding the knife towards him.
I'd rather have him shoot me right there than being called by my legal name.
He suddenly brings his hand at the level of his eyebrows, and scans the room.
The fuck?
I swear, he looks like he's not on his right mind.
Why is everyone crazy?
I wouldn't be surprised if he was friend with the Cyan with the buzzcut. They pratically match.
"What are you doing?" I ask carefully.
He stops, drops his hand and find my eyes again. "Looking for a fuck to give."
If I didn't stop myself, my jaw would have fallen to the floor.
In another situation, not under the pressure of a gun pointed at me, I would have laughed.
"Do I need to count?" He continues.
"I don't have it I told you! I only have a half of the entire amount! I promise!"
"Then we're gonna have a problem." He starts stepping closer.
"Don't move!"
My knife is ridiculous compared to his gun.
My eyes stay locked with his, and as he takes another step closer, I take one backwards. But I bump into the unit and quickly look behind me.
In a second he's rushing to me, so I give a kick with the knife. His fist blocks mine, and he turns me around so my back ends up glued to his chest. The gun is pointed on the side of my head.
"NO—" I breathe. I move my hand holding the knife and try to stab him in the lower abs. He moves away a bit, informing me that I in fact succeeded in harming him.
With all the confidence I have left I swing my head backwards, hoping to hit his face, and by the groan he lets out, I clearly did. I turn around as his hold loosens, and try to stab him but he blocks my forearm with his hand. I grab his forearm with my free hand, get myself closer and smash my own head against his. He groans and steps back, and I do so as my head starts hurting. I drop the knife, and get my fist in a ball before throwing it at his face. I fucking knew the boxing club's lessons would serve. I attempt to give a second kick but his hand quickly reach behind my head and the next thing I know is that my head is being violently smashed against the cold marble of the island. I whimper at the pain. I try to move back but his own body is blocking my way, and the strength he puts on my neck is too much.
I'm going to fucking cry.
My whole body is in pain. I feel a hot liquid rolling down my face, and realise that it is probably blood. Red start to stain the marble, and it's the comfirmation of my guess.
I raise my hands on each side, indicating that I give up.
"Don't fucking try anything," He swears, angrily.
He slowly pulls me back by my neck, and I'm facing the living room.
My eyes land on the glass on the island. These glasses are fragile.
My hand reach for it in a second and I smash it against his face without aiming. The sound of glass breaking reaches my ears, and the hand lets go off my neck. I rapidly turn and find him with closed eyes, I look down, and aim for the gun. I slap his forearm and end of the gun with both my hands at the same time, but he throws it away before I could grab it. He throws himself at me and his hand pushes me by neck. He slams me against the island, almost breaking my back.
I've got no more strength.
Air isn't filling my lungs anymore.
He's got blood on his face. A lot.
As I do. Because my whole face is burning.
I'm suddenly pulled up, and he throws me against the fridge, letting go off my neck. I collapse on the ground. But a few seconds later an entire arm surrounds me, I'm being lifted up and my back is glued against his chest.
The gun is against the side of my forehead again, and his arm is preventing me from making any move.
"Now that wasn't really smart of you was it?"
I'm breathing loudly, trying to gather all the energy I have left not to collapse. Even if I'd bet I wouldn't fall, since he holds me so tightly so I don't escape.
At least I tried.
It was this or getting instantly killed. He didn't want to get the money later.
"Now what's gonna happen, we're going to withdraw the rest of the money, understand?"
My heart is going crazy in my chest. It's going to get out by how fast it is beating. I nod.
He gets to the door, but I quietly speak up before reaching it.
"Can I atleast put some pants on?"
Silence.
I don't want to get out in the street in boxers.
The gun leaves my head, his hand grabs the back of my neck and he walks us to the sofa and grabs my white trackpants.
"No it's white. Don't want to stain it—"
Disbelief overcomes his face.
"Where's the rest of the money?"
I point at a bag in a corner of the room on the right.
He heads to it, still holding me by my neck. He opens it, checking that the bills are here.
Then in complete silence, we walk to my room, he opens the wardrobe and grabs the first pants in sight.
"I could've done it by my—"
"If you didn't understand I kinda don't trust a single thing you do. Put it on." He orders.
He throws me the black trackpants, and I put it on without saying a word more.
We get inside the living room, near the bag.
"How much is in there?"
"Six hundred."
He gives me a distrustful look but drags us to the door and makes me put my leather jacket on.
"Why is it—"
His hand finally leaves my neck and I suddenly feel the gun glued to my back from under the jacket.
Oh.
That was why he made me wear it. So people don't see the gun.
He lets me grab my credit card and we leave the apartment. Still with the gun on my back.
After a ten minutes walk, and a few people looking at us like we're from another world, we finally reach the ATM.
People are surely wondering why the fuck we're bloodied.
They all know it's a neighboorhood to be avoided.
And fuck me for not knowing that before taking the goddamn apartment.
We get in front of the ATM.
"Separate the amount into bills of fifty and twenty."
"Why?"
His eyebrows raise, so I shut my mouth and start to withdraw.
No one's around, it is so fucking calm.
The first buddle finished, I give it to him, and he wraps it in a rubber band before stuffing it inside the bag.
He seems way more relaxed than earlier. Composed.
I could feel his eyes on me. He's staring.
What he asks me next leaves me speechless.
"Why'd you start fighting?" His tone is low, composed, and I wouldn't have fought with him earlier, I would have said nice.
But we all know it's not true.
Why did I even start that stupid fight?
"You were going to shoot me."
"Was I."
"Yes. You definitely didn't show any sign of possible negotiation."
Then silence again. Only the ATM's and the bills.
I lift my head. "Can you please drop the fucking gun," I could feel the anger rising in my chest. "It's annoying. I know you have it, I'll give you the entire amount. But drop the fucking gun it's burning my fucking skin."
He just stares at me like the creep he is. Without dropping the gun of course.
I finish withdrawing the rest, angrier now, and he zips the bag closed.
I turn to him, stare at him, and he finally get the gun off my back.
"You can go."
"I'll go after you leave." I let out. "Don't want any stalker following me home."
And with that he just leaves me there after dropping the most innocent slight smile ever at me.
I watch him leave and disappear from my sight.
What the fuck was the smile for?
The fucking smile.
I watch the street, reminding myself that nobody's here and go back to the apartment for a whole night of staying sat at the door like the paranoid idiot that I am and checking the lock every five minutes.
────────────
CAIN
I open the entrance door of the building and get inside the elevator. I'm too tired to take the stairs.
Now, what the fuck was that smile for.
First of all, I only smile when people are nice.
Second of all, I never ever fucking smile at people.
I bet it's because I'm too tired and my brain is going nuts. Also probably because of the pain. It's small. But it's there.
Never would I have imaged that she would literally fight physically. Verbally, that was expected. But physically?
God that was a fucking surprise.
She's probably half my weight, her head reaches my neck, and she's thiner than me.
Why in God's name did she think starting a fight was a good idea?
People are going mad nowadays.
I'll admit that I absolutely did not see that coming. Especially after her whole little scene in the street the other day when Al killed the guy from the tobacco. She cried like crazy. Definitely not the same reaction that she had tonight.
And the worst, she's suicidal, glaring at me like she did with her big shiny green eyes. She's lucky I'm not the angry type. Al would have lost his mind. Same for Cyan.
The elevator's door opens, and I cross the corridor to reach the main room. Entering, I notice Nate, Cyan and Saide on the table.
They turn to me, leaving the room in silence.
"The fuck happened out there?" Cyan exclaims, seeing my bloodied face.
"Let's say she wasn't very cooperative."
"Who? You beat her up?"
"Since when do I beat woman just so they give me what I want?" I raise an eyebrow, throwing the bag on the table. "She just got a little too confident with her boxing lessons."
"Who exactly?"
"The girl at the bottom of the building. The one you've talked with. Violence."
"No way."
I nod.
"She got you good," Nate explains, touching the small wounds on my face.
"Like fuck she did."