Rendezvous

The elevator dinged open and London walked out, her mind still in cloud nine. Of course she would; she had fucked Nick for twice in a week, and both of them were more than great. She walked towards her loft while her mind was still thinking about how Nick’s hot breaths hit her neck, how his fingers dug into the skin of her thighs.

Her mind was pulled back to the earth when she saw someone sitting against her door. It was Fabrizio, waiting for her. He stood up and smiled when he saw her. “Hey,” he waved.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about this,” she said, looking for her keys in her bag.

“I texted you, asking where you were. You didn’t answer.”

“Did you?” Oh shit, he must’ve sent it when I was fucking Nick, she thought. “Um, my phone died right after I answered your first text. Anyway I got stuck in the traffic for a little bit,” she lied.

“You’re soaking. It’s just drizzling a little bit outside, isn’t it?” he said, touching her wet hair.

Shit. Never have sex again in the middle of a drizzle. “Uh, I had to walk a few blocks because of the traffic,” she lied again and found her keys. Thank god. She opened the door and let him in. “So I’m going to take a quick shower. If you want anything, you can help yourself,” she smiled and went into her bedroom, closing the door.

Fabrizio looked around her apartment. He hadn’t had the moment to do it the night before; he just wanted to sit and talk and relax. Her apartment wasn’t too small or too big. He noticed the main color in the apartment was dark brown and every room was accented with another color. The living room and foyer had orange accent, the kitchen had green, and he remembered her room had yellow. He vaguely remembered the bathroom had red.

Fashion magazines were stacked next to a bean bag and he found some music magazines with The Strokes on the cover were spread on the coffee table. He smiled to himself. She said she didn’t listen much to them but she had been reading their interviews.

The shelf next to the sofa had pictures. Pictures of her family, a golden retriever and a Siberian husky, and a picture of her and Julian many years ago. All of them were nicely framed. Fabrizio took the one that had Julian in it. They were widely smiling, Julian was still a teenager and she was still a child, and Julian had his arms around her shoulder. Judging from his body language, Fabrizio guessed Julian and London were like brother and sister. He took a mental note to treat London carefully; he wouldn’t want to fuck up his friendship with a best friend because of a girl.

Across the sofa there were a TV and a rack filled with DVDs. Most of the collection was action films and romantic comedies. He didn’t find many horror movies, so he assumed that she wasn’t a big fan.

There was a glass door next to the rack and Fabrizio knew it wasn’t London’s bedroom, nor it was a bathroom. He recalled the bathroom door was in the bedroom. In curiosity, he turned the doorknob and opened the door. There were clothing and shoe racks in one side of the room. Across them there was a violin, a shelf filled with books, a small sofa, and a sewing machine. The walls had black and white photographs and framed covers of fashion magazines.

Looking at the violin, he wondered what songs she played, to which he then realized that he didn’t know what kind of music London listened to.

He turned to the sewing machine. He wondered if she made clothes, too, but she most probably did because she worked in the fashion industry.

“I see you have found my little heaven,” London said, leaning against the doorway. Fabrizio turned, startled.

“This is like all your hobbies all in one room,” he stated the obvious. “I would’ve never guessed you played violin. You look more like a piano kind of person. What songs do you usually play?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really play anymore. I wanted to ship it back to New Zealand but I haven’t gotten the time yet.” She walked away.

“Why not?” He followed her into the living room. She flicked on the standing lamp next to the sofa.

“Shall we go now?” she smiled, but Fabrizio knew she was avoiding the subject. She tried to look all cheery but he knew her expression changed. He took it that she didn’t want to talk about it and he wasn’t going to force her to; not when they just met a few weeks ago.

So he dropped it and they walked to a curry restaurant a few blocks away. London just laughed when they entered; she never even told him what kind of food she liked, yet he knew.

They sat at a corner and ordered their food. Fabrizio was itching to bring up about the violin but he had decided to respect the privacy she wished to have. Their food came and London added dried chilli into her chicken curry.

“I saw the picture with you and Julian in the living room earlier,” he said, “You guys are really close.”

“Yeah. No matter how drunk Julian was back then, he’d always look out for me. We’re both the only child in the family, so we see each other like siblings. But you know, I moved to New Zealand and we just lost contact.”

“Julian said you thought he was trying to get in your pants when you met again at the bar,” he reminded her, spooning his curry and rice. “Didn’t you get the familiar feeling of him?”

“I did, actually, but I wasn’t sure.” She spooned her curry and rice into her mouth and widened her eyes. “This is so good!”

Fabrizio laughed. “Welcome to the best curry restaurant in New York City,” he said before chewing his food and was glad that she liked it. He didn’t have a clue of what she liked and just dared to take a risk.

They finished their dinner and fought on how to pay the bill – London insisted they should split it but Fabrizio, being the man in the dinner, insisted to pay the whole thing. He knew their argument was going nowhere, so he just snatched London’s wallet that was in her hand and slapped his money on the table. The waiter walked away with the paid bill and Fabrizio returned London’s wallet, a triumphant smirk slapped across his face.

“You’re ridiculous,” she shook her head, dumping the wallet into her bag. Fabrizio just laughed and they left the restaurant.

“Do you want dessert or something?” he asked.

“No, I’m good,” she smiled. “Do you want to go to the park?”

“The park?”

“Yeah, the park.” He opened his mouth and was about to answer but she cut him off before he could do so. “Nevermind, I don’t need the answer.” She grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards the park.

The park was dark, only lit by the dim glow from the lamps. There were a few people here and there, mostly couples in their teenage and young adult years.

“There was this douche,” London started as they walked further into the park, following the concrete path. “He liked to pick on me when I was 7. One day he followed me all the way home after school, shouting at how ugly I was and how ridiculous my piggy tail was. I was on the verge of tears as we were passing Julian’s house, when Julian – who was skipping school, as usual – ran out of the house and yelled at him. Julian said he was going to shove Lego bricks up his ass if he wouldn’t stop picking on me,” she laughed.

Fabrizio laughed too. “That’s not how you’re supposed to talk to 7 year olds.”

“Julian was 14, what do you expect?”

“He wasn’t a bad influence to you, was he? I mean with all the drinking and smoking that he did in his youth, you don’t seem to be affected by his habits,” he sat on a bench.

“He never did it in front of me,” London answered, following his suit. Fabrizio raised his eyebrows. He didn’t believe it. “I’m serious. I don’t remember seeing him smoking or drinking in front of me back then, but I remember alcohol bottles and cigarette packs and ashtrays in his bedroom.”

“Huh.” Fabrizio knew Julian since they were teenagers and it was impossible for Julian to last a day without beer and cigarettes. It was only five years ago when he began to stop.

London abruptly placed her head on his shoulder, the long strands of her flame-like hair falling in front of her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

What happened next stunned her. Fabrizio put his hand on her shoulder and lightly kissed the top of her forehead. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want affection. She shifted in her seat and pulled away from Fabrizio, pushing her hair back with her fingers.



They were standing in front of London’s door, laughing about how someone fell right in front of her apartment building and how funny she fell. She opened the door and offered him to come in, to which he declined. “I have to do something tomorrow morning,” he smiled. She could see his feelings through his eyes and she knew she had to say something before he got his hopes up.

“Fab, I want to let you know that I’m not into commitment.” He stared, waiting for her to continue. “So whatever’s going on between us—“

“You’re not into commitment and I don’t want to get married. Sounds good to me.” He shrugged; no tone of concern was heard from his mouth. He was fine with this, he didn’t mind. “We’ll just, you know, have fun.”

She smiled in amusement. “What, like, friends in benefits kind of thing?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Their eyes lingered for a moment. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” he repeated to confirm that she was okay with the idea. She nodded. “Alright, well, you go get some sleep. I’ll call you.” They shared a quick hug and goodnights before London went into her apartment. Fabrizio waited until he heard her locking the door before walking towards the elevators.