The rain came down in a drizzle, dampening everything in its wake, leaving behind a melancholy atmosphere. A young woman sat on a slow moving bus, head leaned against the window, listening to the soft patter of the rain and watching puddles form below. Her mind was blank as the bus arrived at her stop. Without a sound, she stepped off and into the cold, wet outside. She gave a shiver as the bus pulled away, and a faint wind followed behind it. She had no umbrella, just her purse and her jacket. She bowed her head and clutched herself as she made her way slowly to her house.
Today was a day like any other, but perhaps even worse. After a minor mishap at one of her oddball jobs, her boss found out and took it harder than she would have expected. A one-sided argument ensued as she was told to leave, two hours earlier than usual. Now she had no job, for the third time in a month, and the rent deadline for her apartment was coming up. She didn’t know what to do.
The old wooden door creaked open as she made her way into her small living space. She gave out a sigh as it closed behind her, and let her bag slip from her shoulder helplessly onto the floor. Not bothering to pick it up, she made her way slowly onto the couch and lay down, burying her head in her arms. She had no friends, none that she could call up to comfort her, or one to suggest her to a job. A small pang in her heart made itself present as she gave another sigh. She couldn’t stand living like this, hopping from one job to another, barely making enough to keep herself alive. Eventually, she’d drive herself crazy and end up on the streets.
Sitting herself up, she rubbed her tired eyes with her jacket sleeves. She glanced at the clock; it read 3:47. She had a good while before her night job. Before then, she needed to relax; if she was tense, she may be fired from that job too. She couldn’t have that. She turned on the TV and flipped to the music channel. She needed to calm her nerves.
A concert was being broadcasted; it was most likely a rerun from the night before. With not enough energy to change the channel, she sat back and watched. It was a young man, perhaps not much older than herself, executing some mad guitar skills, while singing with a sweet voice into the microphone. He sang in English, one language she didn’t understand completely, as he was from the States. She frowned. It was strange, all her tension seemed to melt away as she saw him play, and she felt a small smile grace her lips as she felt an air of familiarity. She shook it off almost immediately. Where had those feelings come from? She stared at the young man again; his bright blond hair fell about his face, his eyes closed in passion, and mouth barely visible due to the microphone. Never before in her life had she seen this man.
Giving a shudder, she flicked the TV off. That was the weirdest feeling she had ever felt, a feeling of comfort and familiarity of someone she didn’t even know the name of? She gave a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She couldn’t have herself a nervous wreck tonight; this was all she was living off of, and if she was fired it was all over.
With nothing else to do, she dragged herself into her bedroom and set the alarm, then flopped helplessly onto the bed. She needed her sleep, and this was all she could do.
The sudden angry buzzing of her alarm clock woke her with a start and a pounding heart. 9:30. Time to head off to her night job. She slowly raised herself from her bed and dragged herself to the closet. After quickly changing her clothes and throwing on a long, heavy jacket, she made her way outside to catch her bus.
It seemed to have stopped raining a while ago, but the thick, wet smell still hung in the air, and left an almost humid feeling. She didn’t like the feel of it as she was wearing a coat, but she had no choice but to.
As she arrived at her stop, the bus pulled up. She hopped on in silence and took a seat right at the front, where no one would pay any mind to her. She turned her body and gazed out the window, at the bright, shining lights of Paris. She lived in this city for as long as she could remember, the same old routine, day to day. She remembered living with both her parents as a young child and graduating from high school and after, but between those two events there was a big, gaping hole, in which she wondered what was there. Why there was a large whole, she didn’t know, but all she knew now was that the parents from her early memories were nowhere to be found, and she could only assume the worst.
The bus came to a slow stop at her destination. She gave a shiver, despite her heavy jacket, and stepped off. She didn’t move until the bus had left and gone around the corner, and she headed slowly in the opposite direction. She stopped in front of a brightly-lit, run down building and looked up at the brightly lit sign above it. Every time, she wondered what drove her to get this job, and why she didn’t have the courage to quit.
As she made her way inside, the small bell on the door jingled, and to her surprise her boss was in front of her, tapping his foot impatiently.
“Lita, were have you been?” his heavy accent and raspy voice made her recoil some. “The German soccer team is already here, and have been for the past half hour! I’ve been getting complaints left and right about the bar being closed. You get out there and make it quick!”
”Yes sir,” she said in a mousey voice. She hurried past him and into the back and hung her coat in the closet, then turned to face herself in a full-length mirror. A pleather corset tightly hugged her body, showing her belly some, and a short skirt of the same material followed. Her legs were covered by fishnet stockings, and finally black stilettos. She gave a sigh. If she had any choice, she wouldn’t be wearing this, she wouldn’t be here. If she had any choice, she would know why she was in this situation in the first place.
But she had no choice, and with a heavy heart she made her way back front, and placed herself behind the counter at the bar. She turned on the light, a dim light, like the ones you find at a coffee shop. She leaned forward and waited for some customers. As she waited, she watched the girls on the stage, much younger than her, entertain the guests, fake and seductive smiles decorating their faces. Something in the back of her mind made her wonder if this was their last resort to survive, if they had any choice in what they were being paid for.
It wasn’t too long before she was approached by three men who took their places at the bar. She gave them a weak smile, but they paid no mind to her. With nothing else to do, she grabbed three glasses and placed them in front of her, anyway. One of the men must have caught her movements, and fully faced her. She smiled a little as he asked through a slight accent for three beers. She nodded slightly, and with expertise she quickly poured them each a glass. As she placed them down they each thanked her, and she nodded in response. She leaned back against the wall, her mind wandering. She wondered if one day she would get a real job, if she would make something of her life instead of spending her time relying on a sleazy joint for food and money. Her heart began to feel heavy again as she gave a sigh.
She was brought back from her thoughts when another man came to the table, with not nearly as much energy as the earlier three. His head was down, and something seemed terribly wrong. Concerned, she made her way slowly towards him. “Would you like something to drink?” Her quiet, but soothing, voice caught his attention, but he didn’t look up. He gave a slight nod.
“Yes please, but just a soda would be good,” he said.
Hair falling around her face, she retrieved the soda pitcher and another glass and slowly poured the poor man a drink, making sure it was the perfect amount. She placed it in front of him. “Would you want some ice or a straw?”
”Both would be good, thanks.”
Slowly, she poured several ice cubes into his drink, and neatly placed a straw in it also. He gave a nod of thanks, but instead of drinking it, he began to slowly stir his ice cubes. She began to turn away when she heard him say, “Sometimes…” She knew this. Some lonely men who couldn’t get their fulfillment of company in the main room would come to the bar, order a drink, and then spew their problems. She let them talk, but she would only listen. Rarely would she give advice, but she seldom ever thought it was good advice.
“Sometimes, I get tired of traveling so much,” the man said. “I know I’m so young, but I already feel five years older than I should.” He took a short sip of the soda and there was a short silence before continuing. “When I quit the team, my wife and I are planning on moving back to her hometown and we’re going to start a family there. Sure, traveling is fun and all, and I knew this was going to be my last tour so I was planning to make the best of it. I was having fun, really. I even bumped into my old roommate while his band was on tour, too.” He gave a dry laugh. “We hung out for a little bit, and he seemed great. But of course, after our game, we’re on the plane again. I really wanted to spend more time with him. We kept in touch though, so it was all good. Until…” his voice darkened considerably, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
She knew the “until” part well, also. Life was going well, “until” that bad thing happened, so the man goes to the bar, and whilst drinking beer tells their life story to the bartender. Although she was used to this, this new “until” gave her an odd sensation, one like she already knew what was going to happen.
“Until one day, just over in England,” he sighed. “It was halftime and I was drinking my good share of water, when I get a call on my mobile from my friend that’s touring. And you know what?” He placed his forehead in his hand. “He called to say that one of our childhood friends died in a freak lab accident…”
She felt her heart racing. She watched as he paused to give a sniff and a deep sigh. She stiffened and her blood rushed to her cheeks. Something was not right.
“He died,” he continued, voice shaking. “They were developing some new program, and something happened… and I don’t know.” His voice began to break as he shook his head, obviously trying to hold back tears. “My friend that was touring said that his wife, his wife was…”
“…Was gone, and nowhere to be found…”
Unable to believe what she just said, her eyes widened and she placed her hand over her mouth. The man in front of her stopped. He sat up straighter and slowly lifted his head. She felt her heart racing as she met the soft, brown eyes in front of her, his right eye barely visible due to some hair hanging over it. She began to feel herself shaking as that strange feeling that she experienced while watching TV earlier came over her, as if she should just relax, give into her feelings, and cry along with this strange man for the loss of his friends.
But she couldn’t calm down; the man in front of her had changed into someone else, his soft blonde hair fell over his forehead, and his calm, collected gray eyes were smiling at her, despite the thin line his lips made. She blinked, and that man was gone, and the other was still there, staring at her in pure awe and shock.
“Ae—“
“…No…” She breathed, backing away slowly. “I… don’t know, I…” Feeling weak, she felt for something behind her to support herself, but she knocked over a glass, and it met the floor with a loud crash. Everyone turned to her and the room quieted. “I can’t… How did I…?” A sharp pain seared through her head as she made her way quickly from behind the bar.
“Wait!” the man called after her, but she paid no mind. She ran into the main room, trying to make her way blindly to the exit. She heard yells of distress as she knocked over various things, but over all she could hear her boss’ voice trying to get her attention. “Lita! You get back here! Wait!” She ignored it, she ignored it all. She crashed through the door as her boss called one more time, “Lita!!”
She ran blindly down the street, her stilettos making it difficult to run. She kept tripping, but she kept going, not knowing where she was headed. How did she know that man’s story? She had never met him in her life, and yet she knew what exactly what he was going to say. And that feeling, that soft, calming feeling that she had felt earlier, where was it coming from?
And she knew she could keep asking questions, but she would never get answers, and this was the last thing going through her head as she saw the bleak cement coming towards her.