Crossing Figures

My day was over, and I felt tired. Still, I went to Thierry to say goodbye.

"See you tomorrow, Thierry."

"All right, darling. See you tomorrow!"

"What about me? Why don’t you say goodbye to me?"

Daniel turned in his seat and gave me an all meaning grin that I ignored with a roll of my eyes.

"Bye, Daniel, see you tomorrow," I mumbled between compressed lips.

"That’s what I like to hear."

I exchanged a quick glance with Thierry, but all he did was give a wink, and point to Daniel while mouthing: "He's hot!". I shook my head firmly, and Thierry tried hard not to burst out in laughter.

"Bye, honey!" Thierry waved after me.

With one last nod I closed the door behind me, the smell of car exhausts and more junk drifted into my nose, and I never had wanted to be so badly out of town. The countryside also didn’t seem like such a good idea, but I wanted to be a little further away from all the noise and the crowds at that moment. So I drove away from the hectic city.

I walked along the canal and heard that the noise sounded further and further away, until I reached the bridge where I always ended up as I couldn’t get my ideas on paper or there were problems back at work.

The evening came already when I heaved myself deftly on the ruined, abandoned bridge, and sat down on the sidewalk that hadn’t been used for a long time, except by me of course. This was the only place I could concentrate and be sure that no one would bother me, because once I started writing, I was unstoppable. It was rather late, but that didn’t bother me really.

The sunset was a light red that turned into a dark pink. Thin and light patches of clouds obstructed the view a little, but gave it all something idyllic. too Quite bright the sun reflected from the turbid waters of the canal, and under the bridge appeared ripples in the water because of a boat that had just sailed past. The perfect place for a romantic couple to enjoy the beautiful view, but I was alone.

My feet dangled over the edge and I grabbed with both my hands tightly the half crumbled fence, so I was reassured that I wouldn't fall. For me life started to become a little too complicated, I couldn’t follow all the moments piled up and got entangled in a web of uncertainty. All the people I had previously always given my confidence seemed to have betrayed me for no good reason, and that stuck me straight in the heart.

It probably sounded strange, but I trusted Ms. Prada, I had always done. I trusted Thierry when he said he always would be my working partner, and I trusted Ms. Prada when she said we were a good team and a good asset to the company. Who knew that they lied to keep our work at a fast pace? I certainly didn’t.

But not only at work I felt cheated on, at home as well. I still cannot understand why mom always told me that I would be welcome in the 'motherly nest' of her as she dropped me like a brick for her lover? Even my stepfather, she couldn’t keep, and that made me very angry. He was a warm, sweet man, but my mom was already tired of him after a while . She couldn’t feel the 'love' anymore and began looking for another person who could take care of her.

Why did I actually think about all the problems at home? It wasn’t that I didn’t have enough to worry about with my new partner Daniel, in one day he had harassed me at least ten times, and I couldn’t concentrate on all the things I did. If I had to work with him for a long time, they had to put me in a madhouse.

A cold breeze brushed against my legs. With a big sigh, I took a pebble from the ground, held it doubtfully clamped in my hand and threw it into the water frustrated. A dull splash resounded and echoed for a moment under the high bridge, and then died away until nothing was heard except the busy, buzzing sounds of the city behind me.

Slowly but surely the sky turned from a dark pink to purple, and the red became bluish. The evening began to fall and I had I had to drive for at least half an hour to get to my apartment, so maybe it was better to leave my thoughts at the bridge and return tomorrow.

So I jumped from my comfortable position and walked off the bridge into the small parking place where not many people knew of. It was behind a dilapidated, old house, and was the perfect place to leave my car. At least, if no skating kids were hanging around. All the teens knew the place, but I also did even though I was already 23.

I struck the small street that led to the parking, only a street dog walked by curiously but soon disappeared behind the corner. An orange glow sank behind the long row of houses, and when I reached the parking lot the glow had already transformed into a dusk dark. I would be happy if I could safely walk in the crowd of people and even happier when I would be in my apartment with the door shut.

But of course something happened so that I was out of town even longer, something I hadn’t seen coming.

I heard someone behind me calling. I turned so abruptly that my forehead roughly came into contact with something else. With a short, startled scream by the sudden pain I took a step backwards and I heard someone mutter tormented. Blinded by the terrible pain that drifted from the tips of my hair to my toes I blinked with my eyes.

"Ouch! What came over you to stop so suddenly?" growled the person I had bumped against.

"What came over you to scare me so much?" I bit back.

We both held our hands with a contorted face at the place where there could appear a bump any time soon. The young man I had bumped against kept his eyes closed with clenched teeth to suppress the stabbing pain, his hand was still against his forehead.

"Well, that was damn painful," he murmured. Confused he blinked with his eyes. "Wow, I even see somewhat double."

"Oops ... I'm sorry."

It appears he had got the biggest hit both of us. My forehead was a bit sore, the rest wasn’t that bad. When the boy moved away his hand, I noticed that a bump on his forehead appeared that you could see from ten feet away.

"It's okay, it's okay," the guy shrugged off my apologies.

He brushed his messy, wavy caramel brown hair from his eyes and smiled greeting, as if I was the one he needed.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him insecure.

His long, towering figure instilled me a little bit of fear, and the tattoo on his chest clearly visible thanks to the V-neck shirt he wore didn’t make things better. Yet he had something kind about him, thanks to the gentle look in his silver-gray, greenish eyes.

"You're ..." He pulled a card from his pocket that I knew from somewhere. "Lux Nicholls, right?"

I nodded. "Uh ... Yes, why do you want to know?"

Terrible thoughts began to sum up in my head. He had to gain my trust to kill me with an axe or something and dump me heartless into the canal. Or no wait, he was someone from the mafia, he would abduct me to the headquarters and I would be tortured a lot until I would have to reveal the secrets of Fashion Supersize.

"You left something at Starbucks."

That was all he had to say. With an elegant swagger of his arm he took my wallet out of his pocket. He held the wallet in front of him with my business card, waiting until I would take my belongings out of his hands.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "But ... How did you know I was here?"

Reluctantly I took the wallet from his hand first, then the business card. My picture adorned in the left corner of the card, and I cursed myself for not bounding my hair neatly in a high bun that day my, my wild bunch of curls hung like a curtain for my face and gave me the expression of a hobo. Very professional for a person with a status like me.

"First I went to your work. I had read somewhere on one of your cards that you worked at Fashion Supersize. Coincidental I knew that building ," he said calmly. Well, he had a point. "But when I arrived, you were already gone, and a certain Thierry -" He showed a strange look at the name, "- told me you would hang around somewhere in this area. I still have searched a long time for you though."

A crooked smile appeared on his lips and by the streetlight shining down on him I noticed how pale his skin was, he even looked a little sick.

"Oh, okay. How can I thank you, uh ...?"

I stuffed my wallet in my secret side pocket of my bag where I hid my other valuable items too, and took the car keys out of it.

"Ben, Ben Bruce," he told his name. "And no thanks, next just don’t forget your wallet next time."

I gave him a nod and tried to smile for his comment, but it looked more like a lopsided grin.

"Want a ride home?" I suggested. I had to say something nice, right?

"No," he replied curtly. His lip rings glinted in the light. "I'll go by metro. A friend is expecting me."

"Oh, okay. But thanks again for the wallet, Ben."

The farewell that we shared was unpleasant, his hand that gave me a soothing pat on the back felt strange, and was extremely disturbing.

Again several thoughts started to buzz in my head when I had stepped into the car and started the engine. If he nevertheless had been at my work, why hadn’t he handed over the wallet to someone so I could just pick him up at the counter the next day? Why did he look for me in this remote part of town? Jesus, why did all my thoughts always take the upper hand in my life?

I got scared far too quickly, my thoughts took control of my life. I had to enjoy the smallest things in life, but now I just couldn’t concentrate on them.

When I had put my mind to zero and had put Ben out of my head, I hit a street and I in front of me the bustle of the city already looming. But just when I whistled happily along with one of my favorite songs on the radio, I saw Ben walking on the sidewalk, a cigarette dangling between his lips and his hands in his pockets, he went down the stairs to a subway station. Now, about that he hadn’t lied in any case. That was good.

A good thing, because if I would see him driving around in a car, my brains would have to make overtime again. And now I suddenly felt tired and exhausted, I wanted nothing but peace and rest.

Ben had completely disappeared into the subway station and I could finally breathe again. I shouldn’t think wrong about the encounter, he was just trying to be nice, that was all. Still, my hands clutched the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles started to turn white, and I couldn’t wait to hear the familiar sound of the door lock of my apartment.

"Pull yourself together now!" I tried to boost myself. "He was nice, that's all."

Because I spoke the words myself it calmed me down and the rest of the ride home went smoothly. I hadn’t seen a glimpse of a serial killer or some other fantasy in my head, and that was the way it had to be.

Casanova enthusiastic swam back and forth in his bowl, as if he sensed that his owner had come home, but had fishes these sensors? Did Casanova recognize me as the person who fed him every day, and cleaned his mini aquarium?

Probably not, it was probably an illusion in my head. I just wanted that someone was happy to see me.

"Hello, little orange friend of mine," I told him.

I gently tapped my finger against the glass and Casanova swum excited to my finger, and I laughed softly. His fins moved lazily and apparently he was hungry, and all these tricks were a disguise to get food.

It seemed that fish couldn’t even love me.