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“I don’t have any friends.”
He outstretched his hand, it has chocolate stains on his fingers. “You have one now,” he says.
I look at his hand and back at his smile again.
Finally, we shake hands.
The thunder chooses to strike at that moment, and I jump. I don’t like thunders, it makes me scared.
“Are you afraid?” he says, moving closer to me.
I nod.
“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. We are best friends now,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
I don’t know why, but I get scared less when he hugs me.
I lift my head to smile at him, but I see a movement in my house and stiffen.
“You should go. My mom will be angry at me if she sees I’m outside. Go, please,” I say, jumping onto my feet.
My panic must scare him, he gets on his feet too.
I run back to the house. “Go,” I mouth at him just before I close the front door.
I lay down on the couch, pretending that I’m asleep. But inside I’m smiling.
I have a best friend, now.
Chapter 7
Present
Leaving the studio, I look at the building I spend my days in. Teaching children how to dance has never been my dream, but after seeing the job advertisement on their window, I knew I wanted to do it. And now I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
These kids fill a hole inside me with their innocence and cute smiles. Their laugh shows me the goodness in the world that there’s a reason to keep living. It’s been seven years now that I realize dancing has healing power, and since then my life is full of music and dance. I’ve made sure of that. Working in the Club Nymph was a coincidence, I didn’t even know I loved dancing until I started to work there. When the owner, William Harrison hired me, I felt I found my place in this world, even though I didn’t like the owner. It didn’t surprise me he turned out to be one of the biggest douchebags in the world, but I was devastated when the place I found my happiness had to be closed. But things turned out well, and The Vincent Brothers, who were the VIP customers of Club Nymph bought the place and let us, Harley, Salem, and I to manage the club the way we want it. We even changed the name. Now, it’s The Man’s World… and is being managed by women. So, every hour of my day is now filled with music and dance. Such a therapeutic life.
On the way to my house, I stop by a Chinese restaurant to get some take-out. As I pay the bill, I feel my skin prickles. It’s like a magnetic pull that tells you you’re being watched. A pressure of the stare that’s directed at you. I turn my head, looking around the restaurant to see someone, but everyone minds their own business. Shaking my head, I get out of the restaurant. The strange feeling doesn’t go away even when I reach my building. I search my surroundings one more time before I enter the lobby of my apartment. For a second, I thought I saw someone in the alleyway at the opposite of my building, but the cars that pass through the street make it hard for me to see clearly.
With anxious beats of my heart, I head to my apartment. As soon as I step inside, Night, my cat puts his claws on my ankles. He must be hungry.
“Nice to see you too, Night,” I say, lifting him to my arms.
I found Night next to a trash can five years ago. If it weren't for his heart-shattering whine, I wouldn’t have seen him in the dark. He’s as dark as night, maybe even darker. When I heard him, I watched him trying to get under the big white cat I guessed that was his mother. But the white cat pushed him away, licking her other babies who were as white as her.
To this day, I don’t know if the white cat was really Night’s mother, but that day I lifted Night into my arms, and after a middle finger to the big white bad cat, I took him to the vet. Since then, he’s been my best companion.
With him in my arms, I head for the kitchen, pouring his meal into his plate and open the boxes of Chinese for myself. After getting comfortable in front of the television, I let myself relax. Tonight, the club is closed, just like every Monday is, so it’s theoretically my day-off and opposite to most of the people, I like Mondays.
I go to the movies I want to watch. When I decide on a horror movie, Night strolls from the kitchen and jumps on the couch next to me. He’s different from most cats. He loves attention, and whenever I’m home, he’s always either beside me or on my lap. I think we’re the solution to each other’s loneliness. I pet his fur before enjoying my meal with screams and tense music from the movie as my background.
By the time the movie ends, Night is snoring softly on my lap. He’s got scared of the movie, only stopped growling when I caressed his head on my lap. Putting him back on the couch, I make myself a green tea and go out to the balcony.
It’s a nice night out, clear, and peaceful. I can see some of the stars wink at me for a change. Normally, they’re hidden either by clouds or the bright lights of the city. Suddenly feeling the same prickling sensation I felt earlier today, I look at the street. A move catches my attention on the other side of the road. That dark alley always gives me chills. Narrowing my eyes, I try to see better. The stree
t light before the alleyway only lights up the entry of the dark passageway. Finally, a figure appears from the shadows. It’s ridiculous maybe, but I feel like he’s looking right into my eyes.
Swallowing the nerves, I try to act like I don’t notice him. It can be anyone who uses the shortcut at night, or maybe a homeless who lives there, in the darkness. But as the anxiety of being watched doesn’t go away, I can’t convince myself that there’s nothing unusual. The black-clad figure who is still standing in the exact spot doesn’t help the uneasiness leave me.
