The Enigma’s Anomaly

Gerard looks like a fucking dork in a tux. I look like a fucking dork in a tux. Everyone is just a fucking dork today.

I’ve decided that this is not a date. It’s just a meet up at a very fancy place with a really good looking dude, where I’m just a neutral plus one. It’s being held in some sort of convention room/ restaurant. I don’t know what the right word is.

Gerard looks really annoyed the moment I spot him, but he lights up when he sees me. He’s standing outside his office and I get a cab from my apartment to meet with him. His clothes look starchy and stiff like the ensemble has been hanging in a closet for three years, which is actually quite likely.

I honestly think it’s pretty cute on him. He looks out of place, but I like it.

“Wow, you look...” Gerard says, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. I hope he wasn’t going to say ‘stupid’ or ‘ugly.’

Gerard tells me that where we’re headed is not far from the office and he starts walking with myself behind him. He’s not as fidgety this time around, as it’s been two weeks, and it’s nighttime. As a master marksman even I have trouble sniping at night so he wouldn’t have much to worry about anyway. Obviously I’m not packing, but he doesn’t know that.

The street is dark already, it’s pushing eight o’clock, but there are plenty of cars passing by us. I watch him as we walk along the pavement. I don’t try to I just can’t help it. He looks so magnificent, and unpretentious.

I think about holding his hand. I would just take it and feel his warm palm against mine. My sweaty fingers mingling with his, while I try to prevent myself from shaking. The feeling of his thumb stroking across my purlicue. The way I’d try to hide the little smile I’d get just because of the feeling of his hand. I would lean against him and let his warmth exude into me. My hand would almost slip out of his because I’d be so nervous and he’d just grip it tighter so that I can’t let go.

I would never runaway if he didn’t want me to. I would stay with him, and I’d keep him safe from people who want to hurt him. I’d keep him away from harm and danger. I’d keep him away from people like... like me.

The thought washes away and it’s replaced with a grim acceptance of this situation. I can never have that with Gerard. I can never have a life with Gerard, not the way I would want to. He wouldn’t be safe with me there, an assassin. He’d be in harm’s way, and he’s already in harm’s way. I’m his harm, but that seems so unfathomable.

I’m not holding his hand though. I’m not holding him, and I’m not even touching him. My life is the songs ‘On My Own’ from Les Miserables and ‘Untitled’ by Simple Plan on repeat. I can’t stand this loneliness of knowing his inevitable downfall. I can’t stand not knowing who I am, but most of all I can’t stand knowing he can never be with me.

Gerard points to a building ahead of us that’s a solid white and has a large number of windows. I’m actually not sure if the building is more window or wall. I think it’s a museum of some sort, but it’s not being used for that reason today. I think that it would be a rather beautiful place to hold a wedding ceremony or something.

As soon as we get into the building I feel out of place. Everyone is stuffy or old looking and I’m a tiny little guy with tattoos. These people around me are the kind of people who would be offended if someone so much as said the word ‘damn.’ Damn is a no-no word. So is hella.

I am hella lost in this damn setting.

There are some day’s when you want to climb up on a table and start screaming obscenities at people just to see their reaction, and today is one of those days for me. I decide not to do that though.

I hover around Gerard for a while until I can’t stand being so cramped amidst all the stuffy rich people. I envy the way they all make money by doing nothing. That would be so much more fun that having to work. Fewer moral problems as well.

A lot of them are authors, of the book variety, but most of them are just wannabe heiresses and the likes. Maybe one out of five people in here have worked for money in their life.

I escape the cluster of people when I see the option and then quietly watch Gerard walk around the room trying to avoid conversation. I can tell he’s trying to get away from the center of the room and over to the sidelines, but he keeps getting stopped by people who he’s forced to greet cordially. He’ll shake a hand, have a five minute conversation, get away, and then someone else will pounce on him. It’s actually quite amusing, and I laugh at his constant conversational attacks.

He’s far too polite to shove people away so it takes almost twenty minutes for him to actually get out of the throng of people.

Gerard walks over to me next to a large monolithic pillar. The column itself looks right out of a Greek myth. He groans apathetically as soon as he sees me.

“I am so sick of all these stale old people,” he says, looking desperate.

I laugh at his statement and look at him nervously. I don’t really know what to say here. For the first time since we met, I’m with Gerard just to be with him. I’m not even looking for an opportunity to shoot him. I didn’t even bring a gun. It’s so weird without a gun with me. It’s like I’m naked.

I can’t believe I’m at a party with someone I’m supposed to kill. It feels a little sad knowing that I’m going to have to kill him. It feels wrong, somehow. I know I only befriended him so that I could get close to him and kill him, but it feels like I’m abusing his trust. I am abusing his trust obviously, but I shouldn’t be worked up over that.

“Want to go get a drink?” I ask, and he nods fervently. We walk over to the open bar and I look at the little area. It’s a gorgeous building, and a gorgeous room. The wall that the bar is against is solid and has a lot of shelves, but right next to it on either side are two wall to wall windows. I can see out into the night, and the city lights. There are cars flooding the streets, only one story below us, and it’s calming to see that.

“So what do you think?” He asks, after accepting his drink, but I just get a coke for myself.

“It’s fancy,” I say in a playful voice and he scrunches his nose.

“It’s not really my scene either,” he answers.

“Because you prefer hipster coffee shops,” I tease.

“Damn right,” he answers and smiles back at me. We’re near the end of the bar, with a long row of stools, but neither of us has sat down. We’re just leaning against the bar, casually, and I can’t deny that I’m a little astounded by how beautiful he is. The ambiance of the room makes it fairly light, but just so that he appears radiant.

If this were anyone else I would kiss him or something, but it’s not. It’s Gerard, the guy I have to kill. I’m still not capable of wrapping my head around the thought of Gerard being dead. It doesn’t seem possible or even plausible.

He’s just so full of life and he’s just so sweet and nice. He’s too polite for his own good. Who could he have pissed off enough to have landed a vendetta against?

Gerard isn’t the kind of guy to piss people off for the sake of it, and he’s not the kind of person to say mean things about someone. He’s also really awkward so I find it unlikely that he’s hiding any illegal activity under that little mop of red hair.

“What’s the point of all this, anyway?”

“Beats me. Publicity? I don’t know at all,” Gerard shrugs.

“At least there’s free food,” I answer. He giggles, and my heart feels like it’s exploding because that was the most adorable sound I’ve ever heard.

I want to just make out with him so much it hurts. It’s getting out of hand how much I like him. I don’t get crushes! I’m attracted to a whole slew of people, sure, but I don’t want to date them or anything I just want to have sex with them. Sex is only one of the many, many, many things I want to do with Gerard. I kind of want his future unborn adopted babies.

I bite my lip again because of his effect on me and turn to look at him. It’s then that I notice the small little red mark on Gerard’s chest, right over his heart. It looks like a laser pointer and I’m baffled by it for all of a moment before I realize what the little dot is.

I’m sure I look like an idiot doing this, but as soon as it clicks in my brain, my inner instinct kicks in.

“Oh my god, Gerard. Get down!” I scream, and he looks confused for a moment before I literally grab him and pull him to the floor. Not a second later there’s a loud sound of something very large shattering and I look over to the ice sculpture in the middle of the room which essentially explodes.

Obviously I understand what that means because it’s my very profession, but other people look completely stunned by the ice breaking, seemingly for no reason. I recognize the almost inaudible sound of a bullet darting through a high-end glass window. I know its high-end because the glass doesn’t break, but there will definitely be a small hole in the glass, about the size of a bullet.

Gerard and I are safely stowed under the counter of the bar, but Gerard looks far past surprised. His mouth is open and his eyes are wide. His hair is a little messy, and his suit askew from being manhandled, but he’s unharmed.

He’s looking first at me and then at the broken sculpture, then back. A group of people have made a clearing to look at the shattered ice.

Someone cries out in pain and I look at the small circle of people, one of whom is clutching his shoulder. There was only one bullet so it must have been a pretty damn forceful gun to have gone through a window, break an ice sculpture, and lodge itself into a person.

Two things become clear to me in this moment. The first is that someone just tried to kill Gerard. That person had impeccable aim because he should’ve gotten Gerard. Only a skilled assassin, like myself, could’ve made that shot.

The other thing that becomes clear is that Gerard is still alive. I just saved Gerard’s life.