Morning Coffee

Dario, you fool… I mumble to myself, scrolling through every single message. A sigh escaped through my lips. Each positive thought shredded upon the slight sight towards my phone.

An inaudible lighter click, then a silent whine. My suffering is impotent against the desire of a woman who may or may not deserve me. I glanced at the phone screen again, scrolling through every message. Yet, as much as it hurt, I had one job.

Moving on.

I lit my cigarette, puffing like a madman.

I loved her like my own eyes.

The perception of her was easy: the light of my life, the end of a long tunnel. At the end of it all, I was the idiot glancing towards her from miles, through a photo on a screen.

And I was the dumb one for drinking wine, all alone at a faraway from home hotel.

All whilst looking horrid. My lips dried, and my shirt was improperly buttoned. The suit pants I had felt tight and itchy. She always told me to buy more clothes. And I would’ve gone to the bathroom, yet… alcohol seemed more important tonight. Even if it reeks on me.

The silent tides of the sea make me sick, but my grip over the wine glass tightened. It was quite the night.

Well… I really need to touch up my lips. It wasn’t over yet, and I had a gut feeling that sliding back into the hotel room was the best choice I’ve made for tonight.

I have had fun before the alcohol. A charming lady caught my eye. And right before I looked like a mess, she and I hid in my room. My glance shifted towards the stairs, as I traced our path with my eyes.

I drank the last few sips in one go, then set the glass on the counter. I thanked the barman, then slid off the chair.

I can’t remember her name. But her body felt like softened silk and smelled like a strong rose cologne. She told me that she prefers her coffee with a tint of danger. And my taunted heart fell right between her palms. At that moment, I forgot who I was. Yes. She was hot.

She was prettier between the walls of the hotel room. The moonlight fell right onto her pale body, bouncing onto my tanned skin each time I kissed her. She was the prettiest. I couldn’t even call Silvia’s name. And I entirely forgot that she broke up with me.

And around me now are loads of unfamiliar faces, as I’ve lost her into the crowd.

Such a shame… I could’ve guessed she’d be lost at one point. All the women I’ve had in my life never stayed besides me. Could be my fault too.

To arrive at the nearest restroom, I had to pass through the crowd. Most of the guests were dancing. The colorful mat underneath their feet changed with every beat of the songs. And the songs are nice. So nice that I almost bobbed my head whilst bumping shoulders. I had to apologise to a few people already–I felt ashamed.

The restroom’s entrance had a few plants in front. Yet I dashed in, staring right into the mirror.

I picked my cherry chapstick out of the back pocket. The reason why Silvia broke up with me was my sexuality. Me taking care of myself seemed like a big bother. Fuck her… I’ll find another person. I quickly rolled the product over my dried lips. Neat!

I almost smiled, seeing myself in the mirror. I fixed my hair, then undid my shirt. It’s getting warmer here after every second. Almost as if I’m sitting in an oven.

The shirt buttoned properly this time. A brief stomach pain–a mild inconvenience… Have I had too much alcohol? I need more wine. Staring again in the mirror, the music starts to dim. And I gagged. Then I ran to the first toilet bowl, holding my belly.

Yes, that’s too much wine.

I washed my face and mouth, sliding back towards the rink. I looked presentable now.

My worries start to grow. A constant fear that something bad was bound to happen couldn’t leave my mind. And the more I lurked through each plaza, dancing rink or bar, the more it grew. The only plain reasoning for that was the aspect of the hotel. Curled and long halls, steps that echo through every corner. It made my skin crawl.

And now, I was in a corridor again. The hotel has lots of exits. I only knew the ones from the northwest and southeast wings.

The halls have plenty of interesting paintings. Sometimes they are family photos, and other times they are nude portraits of men.

Swift steps approached me. The woman from earlier. I raised an eyebrow. Her satin dress suited her even better now that I look at her. She handed me a quick smile, and stopped right in front of me.

A greeting. Casual, silent. “I wanted to ask…” she mumbled.

And then fidgeted with her ring.

I raised an eyebrow, watching her close. I knew her question would be answered, but something was wrong. “Is this your first time coming to this hotel?”

Her warm smile made it impossible not to reply; I nodded swiftly. Then our chats stretched further. Her hand laid on my shoulder, and her thumb caressed my skin through the shirt. Just like before.

She handed me a fugitive sight, then put her hair behind her ear…

I only glared at her, replying to every single question she had. It was stiffer than usual. And suddenly my skin turned cold. Listening to the whole of thousands of stupid sayings made me tired.

She talks too much. I dug my hand through my hair, arranging it better.

She pulled closer, tugging at my shirt. “So… round two?”

I wet my lips. Silvia. My hands gently put her back into her place. “I’ll skip the spa day, thanks…”

“You’re so fucking lame!” She shouted.

Better off being lame than fried.

The hall turned cold. And the lights faded blue, dust raising and running everywhere. Almost like a pattern of scratched dreams.

People from the outside terrace rushed inside as they playfully yelled. They were wet from head to toes. I spotted them from the balcony of this hall.

But a hint of desperation struck into me. There was a pair of azure eyes glancing towards me from a distance. A man, with his face structured so well that I wasn’t the only one staring towards him.

He wasn’t wet. He seemed perfect from a distance… but his stare concerned me.

So I quickly slipped away, trying to reach my hotel room.

I couldn’t even bat my eyelids; the man stood at the end of the hall. He was slowly walking towards me. He doesn’t have formal attire, I’m sure he’s not a hotel customer. Instead, he’s wearing a biker jacket with jeans that have plenty of chains attached to them.

I tried to step back and gain distance… He pulled out his gun. “Where are you going, sweet cheeks?” He mocked me.

Right at that moment, someone gripped my neck tightly and put a cloth on my nose. I wiggled, but that was to no avail. I tried to move, to do anything. It was almost as if I was paralysed under his spell.

And right at the end, I closed my eyes shut and fell to the floor, losing consciousness.

When I woke up, the bedding I rested on was itchy. And the room around smelled like it was pulled out of an execution film. A quick flick of a camera, then footsteps. A called out ‘sir’, then yells about a simple mistake. “It’s the wrong person!” A woman yelled. “How dare you be so incompetent!?”

I opened my eyes, glancing around me. The man from last night was smoking in a chair, far away from us. Then there was the lady I fucked, and some other men. “Jules is walking out free because of you!” She roared again.

“Calm down, Nerina,” the azure eyed man approached me. “We still have this guy as a clue.”

I sniffed, feeling sweat forming behind the back of my collar. I bit my inner lip, glancing around. The woman nodded, approaching me. “We know for a fact that he’s been in that hotel,” she pulled a tray next to the bed I was tied on.

“And look who’s awake…” the man’s hand traced my jawline gently.

He lowered his face, whispering in my ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, they’re just photos.”

Does he know me? He’s acting way too kind.

“Untie me,” I said, wiggling.

“We can’t. Calm down, twerp.”

Yet the man raised his palm, telling her to take me slowly. There’s something rotten to the core in here.

For the next two hours, they showed me photos over and over again. All I could tell them each time they asked me about dates before July 3rd was a plain “I don’t know, I’m a patient of amnesia.”

But that man that kept himself away… the tint of his eyes… I keep dreaming about it.