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Mika takes around an hour to get ready, which I find to be somewhat of a relief. If she’s able to put that much effort into how she looks, then she’s fine. There was something wrong this morning for sure, but she’s past it now. God forbidshehad been out drinking the night before, but at least if that’s the case, it should only be another two hours before she’s perfectly normal again. She’s nineteen – girls her age don’t get hangovers.
When I look at her a little more closely, I can see that she’s still very pale underneath the foundation she’s wearing to cover it up. She’s wearing red, and usually I would say that red looks amazing on her. Right now, she looks pallid and sickly.
I tell her to follow me over to the car, and she does as I say without a word. No witty quips or biting, passive-aggressive compliments escape her even though they come to her as naturally as breathing. She’s being totally compliant, which is both a relief for me but a concern that I can’t address on my own.
“Mika, did your father tell you what we’re supposed to be doing tonight?” I ask with honest curiosity. Remi hardly ever talks to his daughter, so I’d be wary if he had given her any details of the night’s proceedings.
“No.”
Alright, now I can relax a little.
“You’re supposed to introduce yourself to the main guests. I’m not sure who they are through. I wasn’t told anything either,” I say, hoping to initiate a conversation with her. Maybe she would tell me in passing if something was wrong.
“God,” she scoffs, turning her whole body as much as she can to stare out the window. For the rest of the ride, she refuses to look at me.
I’ve worked different jobs for Remi over the years, but I’d never worked this closely with him or his family before. Seeing how everything works from the core is fascinating and daunting at the same time. I hadn’t been to any of these events before, likely because they’re only for people who Remi is trying to impress. He doesn’t allow the men on the lower tier anywhere near his clients.
The only reason I’m allowed to go is because of Mika. I’m to act as her handler at all times, and I’m even supposed to watch her behaviors to predict whether she’s going to cause a scene. I can’t read her mind, but I’ve seen the way her eyes narrow when she’s been pushed beyond the edge of her composure. That’s the best I can do, and it’s my fault if things go south.
As per usual, the people at the event are pretentious and haughty. I’ve been relieved of the responsibility to engage with them, which I am eternally grateful for. I’ve been instructed to follow Mika as her shadow while she pretends to be pleasant to whoever approaches her.
When people start to get drunk around eight, the incessant crowd of people who are here to beg for Mika’s attention begins to die down. I can finally get her alone for a couple of minutes at least.
She’s standing against the wall with an expression that I can only describe as malignant ennui. She’s not dangerous when she’s just bored, but when she’s boredandangry, she’ll do anything she can to channel that anger. If she were to do that right now, I’d be taken out back and shot.
I take her hand and motion over to the hallway to coax her to walk with me. She stands still against the wall as she swirls a drink that I haven’t seen her take one sip out of. Mika’s not an alcoholic, but she’s not a puritan either.
I maintain my grip on her hand, jerking her just a bit harder into the direction of the hallway. She’s startled by my insistence, relenting to me as I overpower her.
“Mika, what the fuck is going on?” I ask as soon as we’re out of earshot. “You’ve been acting weird all day. It’s freaking me out.”
“Why do you care?” she replies, crossing her arms and leaning on her hip like an unimpressed supermodel.
“Because you seem really sick, and it’s kind of in my job description to keep you safe. Keeping you safe means keeping you from dying, and fatal disease falls under that category,” I reply.
She glares at me, trying as hard as she can to look threatening. “Have you never just felt kind of shitty before? It happens. People live their lives and move on.”
“Yeah, I’ve felt shitty before, but I’ve never felt shitty enough to puke up my breakfast after I only took two bites of it,” I say as I begin to grow confrontational. She’s being defensive, which on its own wouldn’t be unusual. The problem is that she looks like she’s being backed into a corner instead of winning the argument. She’s hiding something.
“Well, you’re not a woman, so I guess you wouldn’t,” she deflects. “Sometimes, our bodies just do weird things that we can’t explain. If I went to the doctor for every little thing that felt wrong, I’d never leave.”
She makes a fair point, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something weighing on her, either the illness itself or what could be causing it.
“Mika, I need you to trust me.”
For a fleeting moment, her performance ceases, and I see a flash of fear and sadness cross her face like a shadow. It doesn’t last long, and she puts herself back together as quickly as she started to crumble, but I saw it. She can’t hide from me. No matter how much of a mastermind she thinks she is, she’s just a scared girl who doesn’t know how to navigate the world on her own.
If something serious is happening, it will only be a matter of time before she panics and comes running to me for help. All I have to do is wait.
19
MIKA
If I have to attend another one of my father’s goddamn events, I’m going to make myself vomit all over Izet and his smug, slimy rodent of a father.
I spent the entire time standing off to the side, avoiding everybody as much as humanly possible in order to avoid the questioning glances. The questions about the wedding are inevitable, sure, but I can’t come up with a believable explanation for how sick I look.
Dominik kept pestering me about why I looked like shit, and I was so close to actually telling him that I felt myself get sick just from the thought. Even though I need someone on my side, someone I can confide in who will hold me through this, I can’t risk being caught.
