My Complicated One

The headache hit me out of nowhere. It crept up like a thug and whacked me across the back of the head with a baseball bat. The impact made my vision go dark and my stomach lurch. My temples started throbbing. I leaned against the wall. People from my flight were walking past me. The sound of their footsteps and loud voices echoed inside my skull like church bells. I exhaled slowly and gripped the handle of the suitcase I’d just grabbed from the baggage carousel. This was the first time in years it had felt anything like a migraine. Somewhere in the depths of my backpack, I had to have some pills in there somewhere. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and the pill search had to wait.

A text popped up: “Running late,” and I clenched my teeth.

Water at the airport was probably going to cost a fortune. And my thermos was empty. Taking a step took serious effort. At a snail’s pace, I dragged myself to the nearest coffee shop. A young cashier gave me a long, appraising look.

“Do you need help?” she asked, setting a bottle of water on the counter.

“No,” I forced out.

My phone buzzed again. The screen showed a ridiculous price for a regular bottle of water. I ignored the daylight robbery and headed for a seating area near arrivals. There were way too many people. But luck was on my side. In the corner, I spotted an empty seat. I could catch my breath there and wait for a message from Jo, who was supposed to pick me up from the airport.

I finally found the pill bottle, buried under charging cables and tangled wires, but the cap just wouldn’t budge. A lump rose in my throat. Breathing got harder. A man sitting nearby studied me for a moment and turned away, but then got up and came over.

“Need a hand?” he asked quietly, and I silently passed him the pill bottle.

He twisted the cap off in one quick motion and smiled.

“Here you go,” he said. “Those flights can be rough sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I rasped, tossed a capsule into my mouth, and reached for the water bottle.

The man took the bottle and a moment later held it out to me, already open. Cool water slid down my throat, and for a couple of seconds, the pain loosened its grip.

“I have to go,” the man said, and added, “Feel better.”

I waved at him and thanked him again. He nodded and left me alone with the pain. I pressed my head between my palms and hunched over my suitcase. I had to endure half an hour of hell. The light was starting to bother me too, so I closed my eyes. The airport noise faded into a steady hum. In that uniform melody, heavy footsteps cut through the noise. If I could speak, I would’ve cursed. It was obvious my recent helper was back.

“Hey,” a deep voice said—too deep to belong to the man who’d helped me earlier.

I opened my eyes. My new companion preferred leather shoes to comfortable sneakers, and dark trousers to jeans. I barely managed to lift my head. A young, handsome man was standing in front of me. He was watching me closely. His probing gaze made me uneasy.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled and pulled my suitcase closer to me.

The man sat down next to me, casually crossed one leg over the other, and turned his head toward me. He had an annoyingly symmetrical face, light brown eyes, and black hair so dark it looked dyed.

“Like what you see?” he smirked, and I flinched.

“What?” I asked, and the man chuckled.

“What’s your name?” he asked, and a cold drop of sweat rolled down my spine.

The man was tall, with broad shoulders and obviously well-developed muscles, while I had a headache and extra weight. The odds weren’t exactly in my favor. But we were in a crowded place. And a couple of people were already glancing at us with interest. So I needed to stay put and not give in to fear. Fear made people do stupid things. Like ending up in an empty parking lot where they’d be an easy target.

“And you?” I replied, answering his question with a question.

The man was weird. I needed to find out as much as possible about him.

“Robert,” he answered, offering a handshake.

I reached out automatically and only realized halfway through that this was probably a terrible idea. My palms were sweaty and cold. His fingers barely touched my skin for a second, and he immediately pulled back, pressing his lower lip together slightly. That was a great result. The less attractive I seemed to him, the faster he’d leave me alone.

“You didn’t say your name,” he reminded me, and I gave the answer I always kept ready.

“Jennifer Adams,” I replied, and my phone buzzed, saving me from continuing the conversation. “My Uber’s here,” I lied and got up.

Robert immediately stood up and looked down at me. Nausea rose in my throat. I barely reached his chin. He looked like he could snap my neck with one hand. His dress shirt only emphasized his strength. He reeked of danger, and I wasn’t used to ignoring signals like that.

“Goodbye,” I squeaked, and tried to walk around him, but he stepped to the side, blocking my path.

About a dozen people were already watching this awkward standoff. I needed to pull myself together and not show any fear.

“Let me through. Now,” I ordered, squaring my shoulders.

My heart was pounding, my legs were treacherously trembling, and blood was throbbing in my temples. He nodded.

“You forgot your pills,” he said, pointing at the seat. The pill bottle was sitting right there.

I swallowed hard. My full name was printed right on the prescription label. This man had been sitting too far away to read it. I quickly bent down and snatched the bottle. Robert, if that was even his real name, smiled.

“See you around,” he said, and paused, “Jennifer.”

Hearing him say someone else’s name made my chest tighten. He shouldn’t have seen it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen through my lie. Robert turned and let me through. I took a couple of steps and stopped. A girl was walking toward me, and she was incredibly beautiful. Golden hair, green eyes, a slender figure. She looked like she stepped straight out of a Vogue shoot. Tailored trousers, silk blouse, expensive in a way that didn’t need logos. And the kind of face that made people look twice.

“Rob,” she said, and her ringing voice made my skull feel like it cracked open. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Rob. I turned around. Robert narrowed his eyes and looked me straight in the face, then shifted his gaze to the beauty.

“I was busy,” he said through gritted teeth, and the girl winced.

My phone buzzed again, and the sound seemed so loud that I almost cried out. But it helped. I could move again. In theory. In practice, the girl was now blocking my path. I didn’t know how to tell her to get out of my way. She inhaled sharply and wrinkled her nose. I agreed with her. Honestly, three and a half hours on a cheap flight had done its dirty work. But expressing it so openly was rude.

“I need to go,” I announced to this pair and tried to go around the new obstacle.

But the obstacle didn’t budge. She just stood there, rooting herself to the spot right in front of me, staring.

“Nora, let her through,” Robert ordered, and my headache faded for a moment.

As soon as Nora moved to the side, I darted forward like a sprinter going for Olympic gold. My suitcase’s long-suffering wheels clattered across the floor. I glanced behind me once before stepping inside the nearest elevator and started jabbing the button frantically. The doors closed, and there was no sign of Robert or Nora. I exhaled and wiped the sweat from my forehead and neck. My t-shirt was sticking to my back, and my hoodie suddenly felt too hot. But instead of taking it off, I called Jo as soon as the elevator doors opened.

“I think I’m being followed,” I said, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

“Is he close?” Jo asked, and I licked my lips.

“I don’t think so.”

“Should I come up to you?”

“I think I can handle it myself.”

“Make sure no one’s following you and come down to me. If you spot anyone nearby, scream immediately. Got it?”

“Yes,” I whispered and hung up.

I caught my breath, gripped my suitcase handle, and took off again. I needed to shake them, just in case that strange pair decided to come after me. Stores, people, announcements—it all blurred together in my head. By the time I finally reached Jo, she was standing by her car, white-knuckled around a pepper spray keychain.

“Get in. Now,” she said, and I tossed my suitcase in the trunk, opened the door with shaking fingers, and collapsed into the seat.

Jo scanned the parking lot and got behind the wheel. She pulled onto the road in silence and drove toward the city. I was breathing heavily, watching the rearview mirror. Every car that stayed behind us for more than three minutes looked suspicious.

Jo drove faster than usual. She nodded toward the glove compartment, and I found a bottle of water inside.

“Thanks,” I whispered and closed my eyes.

The fear was receding. In its place, my head filled with doubts mixed with pain, which had gotten even worse from all the running.

“Your place or mine?” Jo asked.

“Mine,” I answered, and she shook her head.

“Then I’m staying at yours tonight.”

“What about Lily?”

“Lily can come too, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. But I think it’s overkill. Right now I think I just got worked up and made up a bunch of stuff in my head.”

“You can tell me about it over lunch,” Jo smiled.

But we never made it to lunch. As soon as Jo and I got up to my apartment, my muscles gave out, and I flopped onto the couch. Jo sat down next to me. She beckoned me over and gave me a tight hug.

“Talk to me. What happened after you got on the plane? Did someone start following you there?”

“No,” I shook my head, pressing into Jo. “The flight was fine, I texted you and my parents, but as soon as I picked up my suitcase, the headache started.”

“A migraine? How long has it been since you had one? Two years?”

“Almost three. But it didn’t feel like a migraine, even though I wouldn’t rule one out. Anyway, my head hurt so bad I got sick. I bought water and went to the arrivals seating area. That’s when you texted saying you were running late.”

“Sorry, traffic was a nightmare.”

“It’s fine. I sat down in a corner, and there was a man nearby. He saw me struggling with my pill bottle and helped me. He also opened my water bottle for me. Then he left.”

“But he didn’t actually leave?”

“No. Then another man showed up.”

“That’s a lot of men suddenly popping up around you in a short amount of time.”

“Exactly,” I said, brightening. “That’s exactly what I thought. It’s all weird. But that’s just the beginning. The first one, the one who helped with the water, was completely ordinary, just like everyone else. But the second one was really good-looking. Straight-up handsome. Tall, buff. And dressed in trousers, a dress shirt, and leather shoes. Who even wears formal dress shoes to the airport anymore? ”

Jo snorted. She stroked my head and sighed.

“Andy, are you sure he even came up to you? Maybe you got confused.”

“No,” I pulled away from Jo. “He came up to me himself when I was burying my face in my suitcase, and then he sat down next to me. And that immediately put me on guard. Men who look like that don’t make random airport small talk. He started asking questions: what’s my name, and did I like what I saw. It was very suspicious.”

“I hope you didn’t tell him your real name?”

“No, of course not, I’m not an idiot. I gave him a fake name so he’d leave me alone and tried to get away. But then he—” I hesitated, and Jo looked at me closely.

“What?” she finally asked.

“He blocked my way.”

“Has he been watching too many dramas?”

“No,” I faltered. “He just pointed at my meds I’d forgotten.”

“You forgot your pill bottle?” Jo stared at me in disbelief.

“Robert had been sitting too far away to read it.”

“Robert?”

“Well, yeah, that’s what he said his name was.”

“That’s definitely a fake name.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was about to leave, this gorgeous girl came up to us. She called him Rob, and he called her Nora. At first, she didn’t seem to want to let me go either, but then Robert told her to step aside, and I ran away from them. That’s it.”

Jo frowned. I pressed my palms to my cheeks, which were burning from the blood rushing to them.

“Sound crazy?” I asked quietly, and Jo nodded.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you. The question is, what do we do now?”

“I think you should go home to Lily, and I’ll crash. The more I think about it, the more I think nothing really happened. Maybe it’s one of those social experiment YouTube channels. And I’ll see a video of myself soon.”

“Even funnier if they send it to you to edit.”

“That’s definitely not happening. The creators I work with don’t do stuff like that. They’re about educational content, not stupid social experiments.”

“You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine.”