“Where is my Hawaiian pizza? I’ve been waiting for almost three minutes!”
“Here it is, sir.”
The sir in question started to count his pineapples. Positive I hadn’t messed up the quantity of his succulent babies this time around, I walked away to take care of another customer at the cash.
“Hey! The pineapple on the far right is too big! Are you hoping I’ll end up choking on my food or something? You two-faced sadist!”
Have you ever closed your eyes and taken a deep, deep breath, when you found yourself in dire situations? You know, that moment where you just want to block out all the negativity and stupidity flying your way because you don’t want to end up doing something you’ll regret? Well, I have.
And I ended up with a slice of pizza on my face, by consequence.
“To hell with you and this restaurant!” the man said, as he squashed the plate on my face, “I’ll be damned if I ever spend my hard-earned money here again!”
Onlookers whistled, but nobody stepped up to intervene. As usual, Giovanni was outside smoking weed, and I was the only one working at the front. Stephan, the chef, was too busy preparing more meals to step up. The other co-worker, whose name I could not recall, had called in sick, five minutes prior to their shift, once again.
Pizza toppings slid down my shirt, as the man spat on the counter. He bumped into Giovanni on his way out of the restaurant.
“What the –” Giovanni cried when he noticed my appearance, “Damian, what is going on? Why are you covered with pizza?”
I snatched a paper towel from underneath the counter and wiped my face. “It was because of that man you just bumped into. He threw it at me.”
Giovanni gritted his teeth. “Why? What did you do? Did you get the order wrong again? How could you be so stupid as to constantly mess up our best customer’s order? His family has been donating millions to my restaurant for years! I already told you that –”
I didn’t hear the rest of his rant because I’d already hopped over the counter and exited the place, slamming the door shut behind me.
I was in a fit of rage. For the last couple of days, it appeared as if the world was testing my patience. Not only had I just quit my job, but I’d lost my two best friends on the very same day.
Dark clouds began to form overhead and the distant rumble of thunder rose. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I felt so infuriated, it was difficult to think straight.
As I continued to wander around aimlessly, heavy drops of rain started pouring down, soaking me from head to toe.
I didn’t even bother taking shelter. I didn’t even bother excusing myself to the people I kept knocking into. I merely trudged under the downpour. Eventually, my feet brought me back to a recognizable place. An alley.
The alley.
I had gone back to the spot where everything turned into a living nightmare. The place where Daphne died.
The place where I should have joined her.
I walked towards the back wall, and faced my back towards it. Sliding towards the ground, I curled into a ball of pain, bringing my knees against my chest.
Lightning crackled across the sky, and I found myself erupting into sobs. Never had I felt so small, so insignificant. I wanted to see my little sister again. I wanted my misery to end.
Why did everything have to be so complicated? What kind of unfair, unnatural forces, dragged my late sister and I into a pit of eternal despair? A void we could not climb out of, weighing us with a secret we would have to take to our graves?
Why were we part of the ones, the small percentage of unfortunate individuals, who had to see what others couldn’t see, who had to hear what others couldn't hear? Why couldn’t we have been born normal, ignorant to the enchanted world around us?
As the dam in my heart continued to overflow, the rain stopped abruptly. Wait, that was impossible because there was no mistaken the ear-splitting plitter-platter against the ground.
Slowly, I raised my head. I was met with a rather large umbrella, who covered my pitiful form. Normally, I would have retorted or snapped at its owner, but at this moment, I was too worn out to do anything.
Jude was drenched like a dog who’d just come out of the bathtub, and his hair was matted against his forehead. Holding the umbrella in place, he sat next to me, sheltering us from the torrent.
Neither of us said anything. The only sound we could hear were the hiccups through my tears.
The sun began to set, darkness gradually creeping up towards us. The alley was deprived of any source of light, and the only thing I could see were strange, creepy shadows plastered along the walls.
A long moment passed before I managed to speak up. “Hey,” I said, my voice cracking, “What did I ever do to deserve this? Why do you hate me so much?”
Jude did not answer. He simply stared off into the distance. Gone was his malicious smile. Gone were his usual sneers. Instead, there was the one I recalled from the past, the serious, considerate boy I had fallen in and out of love with.
“Are you satisfied, Jude?” I asked, with a tinge of bitterness on the tip of my tongue, “Was it fun to ruin my life? Was it fun to destroy me, just like all the other ones you manipulated? Just like all the other ones who left you?”
Still, Jude stayed silent. Frustrated, I grabbed his shirt collar and slammed him against the floor. The umbrella flew out of his hands.
“Oh, so now you don’t want to talk?” I screamed. “Now you’re going to play mute? Come on! Fight me, Jude! Hit me back. Hurt me like you’ve always been doing!”
I punched him in the face. Again and again and again. My knuckles dripped with blood, bruising from the physical contact. The whole time, Jude did not do so much as to bat an eyelash. His face was set in an expressionless way, which pissed me off even more.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” I cried, shaking him like a ragged doll, as the dam of tears threatened to burst out of me again, “Why aren’t you hitting me back? Damn it, fight back already! Finish what you started, you asshole!”
Subsequently, my burst of strength left me. I stopped hitting him, while my tears fell directly onto his face, sliding down his bruised cheeks.
The rain continued to plummet down, and my body soon followed suit. I dropped on top of Jude, as the blood decorating his pale face mixed with the rain and my sorrow.
At a snail’s pace, Jude lifted his arms and wrapped them around me. I was too exhausted to move. Too exhausted to do anything.
“Damian.”
I shivered, more from the way he said my name than from the chilly air of the evening. Surprisingly, a faint warmth began to cloak my body.
Jude was trying to dry me off, the faint hue accompanying his magic encircling the both of us.
“Damian,” he whispered, “do you feel better now?”
Interesting question. Did I feel better?
Did it make me feel better to have my whole school fetishizing me? Did it make me feel better to lose my friends? Did it make me feel better to walk out of my job, after dealing with irksome customers? Did it make me feel better to worry my Grandma? Did it make me feel better to beat the crap out of Jude?
Did it make me feel better to melt into his arms?
I did not know. I could neither agree nor disagree to any of those statements. All I could do was lie on top of him, drowning in his warmth and comfort.
Jude squeezed me even more firmly. “I’m sorry, Damian. I really am. Maybe one day, you can forgive me. Maybe one day, you’ll understand why I did all this. For now, I just want us to stay this way. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll send some money to your grandmother. Like I said before, I will take care of you. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
The way he pronounced that last sentence gave me red flags. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt me again?
“Jude,” I said, sniffing back my snot, “What did you do? What did you do to him?”
I couldn’t see his expression, but judging by the way his stomach and chest heaved, it was almost certain he was giggling.
Jude combed his fingers through my hair. “That wealthy, pizza customer of yours will never bother you again. Moreover, your manager ought to change the name of his restaurant from ‘Giovanni’s Pizza Paradise’ to ‘Giovanni’s Burning Underworld.’ Let’s just say there was a sudden short circuit.”
I don’t know what came up to me, but suddenly, I was laughing hysterically.
Oh, the irony! The karma of it all.
Jude joined me and together, we resembled two, drunk, sandwiched morons, laughing under the storm.
“Let’s return home, Damian,” Jude said, after the amusement had subdued. He carefully pushed me off him and sat up. “I have something to show you.”
“Huh?” I said, still completely lost in a blissful state of confusion.
Jude smiled. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating two rows of perfect, straight white teeth and a blood-splattered face. “A clue,” he said, “I have a clue who may lead to the ones who killed your sister.”
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