I look at the clock, 4am. I’m waiting for the post-cum heat to leave my body so I can leave this fleabag. Obviously the brunette isn’t helping much with the heat hugging me with all her thick hair over my body. But the electric impulses calmly lower their voltage inside my muscles, and my movements are already free and pleasing.
The brunette closed her eyes and seems to have fallen asleep.
I never sleep over at strangers’ homes.
I may fuck them… but don’t sleep over.
Only this son of a bitch doesn’t stop hugging me.
She hasn’t even opened her eyes after I came.
Look at me and get out of here!
She doesn’t open them.
And it just came to me I’m in her house.
She starts to snore slightly.
Ok. This is it.
I take her arm off and get out of bed pulling the covers from underneath her.
The brunette falls.
I head to the living room to get my pants and then to kitchen for my t-shirt. It’s hard to find what I want with so food packages, cans and beer bottles spread all over the place, like a domestic recycling center. When I finally come back, she’s back on the bed on her fours, staring at me and smiling with a white nose.
Well, I think I still have time for a quickie.
Fiulok. Track. Snik. Fiulok. Track. Snik. T-sih. T-sih. T-sih.
Still with my pants and standing, I feel the cell to vibrate.
[Message from Peter]
“Where are you?! We can’t find you anywhere!”
“I’m around it. Tell me where you guys are and I’ll find you.”
Good thing she’s still facing back and drugged or I’d never do this…
I mean, to lie to a friend with somebody staring at me.
The cellphone vibrates again.
“If you come in from the main door, turn right after the second pillar. There, next to the bar, go straight through the door…”
What does the fucking hell this message mean?!
Beside the brunette there’s a nightstand with some pens. I pick one of those thick markers and, while we fuck, I draw a map on her back.
“Oh, yes! Keep doing it!”
That makes me laugh a little, but I keep drawing – although somewhat contained – my friend’s directions. With all that movement, it looked like something drew by someone with Parkinson’s or a three-year old. But it was enough to get an idea of where he was. With the nightclub main door being her butt, according to his message, they should be around her right elbow. OK.
[3 messages received]
“Got it? Hurry up!!!”
Ok. I gotta go, no-name brunette.
– Can you wait a second? I will come back with a surprise.
– Of course, love.
And they say sex isn’t sacred. It’s so much love…
While she stays put playing with herself, I put my shoes on by the main door, button down, leave a business card with my number and take a last look at the apartment. All clothes thrown on the floor. Apparently there are no wardrobes, neither trash cans judging by the amount of medicines spread all over anything that’s horizontal.
Good thing they called me.
I get out.
– Damned! Where am I? – Opening the building’s door, I walk into an ass-freezing cold. – Fuck! I’m still right beside the nightclub!
However, the 20 steps I had to walk were a punishment to my uncovered arms. The wind blew on the street. In the middle of the short walk I see Roosevelt Square’s tall church once more.
I arrive back at the place where my friends are. I show a bracelet I was still carrying on to a black receptionist with lots of piercings. She looks me suspiciously. But I also show her a pack of cigarettes.
– I went out to buy them. I ran out.
She frowns, stretches her sleek arm and says:
– You have to pay the toll.
I look at the pack and pull out two cigarettes, while she looks to the sides as if checking something.
– Here. – I offer her the two cigarettes. She grabs them, also holding my hand, and kisses me.
– I will take the two cigarettes as a gift. – She says, and lowers her arm allowing me to go. We look at each other once more. – Here, have a drink on me. Go in, now.
There’s still music playing. 80’s rock. Lights flashing. Sweat. Smell of cigarette. Alcohol. Bodies dancing.
I follow my friend’s directions at the nightclub, still having the brunette’s body as a mental map.
This is my church, where I spend all my Sundays.
The sacred place.
The working universe’s entire Shabbat.
I cross the floor dancing and a hand pulls me by my shoulder.
– Gosh, Dante!
Yes, that’s me.
– I’ve been looking for you for hours in this damn place! Where were you?
I give no answer.
– Oh, OK…
This is my best friend, Lucy. She’s blonde with blue eyes and incredibly beautiful. Thin, she’s wearing a short black shirt with some glittering stuff on it. She never wears black, but it suits her well, just like the black mascara and the way she’ done her hair tonight. Sure… we have a history together, but I’ll get back to that later.
– What the fuck! I’ve already told you I love you! Damn! – This is my friend Peter. – Son of a bitch! – He’s the friend who sent me the “map”.
– I’ve told you I don’t believe in this bullshit! You can’t convince me! You’re a fucking liar! – That’s Jessica. And now, here we have one of the world’s less healthy couples. But believe me, they have been together for ten years. Peter and Jessica.
I know… you’re asking yourself: “How can anyone take so much shit?” and “Oh, I do know a couple like that.” Maybe you’re even thinking to yourself: “I think this Dante is talking about me.”
However, let me add: “Why would I lose my time talking about you?! Silly…”
But you’re looking at some pages about an incredible guy’s thoughts, and you think you’re reading a decent book, because it has a cover and a title everyone on the street will look at.
Sorry, but you’re a retarded.
Oh… what did I say?!
I take it back.
No, I am not sorry!
And about love, don’t idiots like yourself say that “love lasts forever?” So... here it is. Ten freaking years! This is, indeed, the proof!
– You’re two enjoying the night, I see – I tell Peter and Jessica. They just smile and say sorry. Soon, they are hugging each other.
– The club’s closing, Dante. Let’s go? – Lucy holds my hand, like she always did. The only person I grant this contact. Her two hands hold mine.
– I gotta get a last drink, and then we’ll go. – I get the voucher I got from the receptionist at the entrance. Thinking about it, only now I can taste her lip gloss on my mouth.
– Fine, we wait for you outside. – Says Peter. All of a sudden the couple’s just fine. In peace. They leave, hugging each other.
I let them go and head to the bar.
– Hey, I beer, here!
– No “please”, gentlem… oh, it’s you… – The bartender was cleaning the last glasses in the bar. Blonde, tall, tattooed, thin lips, red lipstick, sleek body, she looks like an athlete.
– Do we know each other, by any chance? – We definitely don’t. But my mind tries to scour so many faces with whom I’ve been in bed. But it’s impossible to know who she is.
– The bar is a hard place to call “by any chance.” But I saw you leaving with a brunette… You came back early.
My cellphone rings: “Lucy in the sky with diamonds.” I ignore it.
– Have you heard about the daily promotion? Take tw…
– Don’t worry. I just need one beer – I said, thinking where my voucher came from.
– Who said I was talking about beer?
I grab my cellphone, pick the call and do what any sane person would do in that situation.
– Hello, Lucy? Look, I found a lift. You can go without me.
The bartender shows me her keys and throws her red leather jacket over her shoulders. She makes the move with an impressive professionalism. An exhibitionist. But I like it. She slowly walks on her heel boots, and stops by the emergency exit.
– Shall we go? – she says in a rehearsed pose, shaking her blonde hair and raising her thin and sharp eyebrow.
– I was about to ask you the same…
We start to walk, and she immediately tries to hold my hand with her gloved hand, but I promptly place mine on her shoulder. Only Lucy, I think to myself.
Not noticing or not showing any effect of my impoliteness, she starts:
– Aren’t you gonna tell me your name, handsome?
– Right in the first date? Maybe not. Why break the magic?