flowers and thorns

- 1 -

I'm sitting at the Rubins by the bar. The club Ruby dragged me to has apparently attracted a lot of London guests today and still does.
In front of me, the bartender pours the fourteenth Gin and Tonic since I settled down in the corner between the wall and the bar, in addition to more or less conspicuous, appealing glances in my direction.
In contrast to the dance floor, which flickers as colorful as a chameleon crawling through a ball pool in a children's paradise due to light effects, the colours here are kept in a very pleasant red. This emphasizes the many alcoholic beverages on the wall behind the counter, but it creates a warm, inviting atmosphere, far away from sweaty bodies rubbed against each other. I should have known that Ruby and her friends were giving me false hopes when they talked about having a fun night together.
As I take the last sip of my Tequila Sunrise and push the empty cocktail glass towards the end of the bar, I get annoyed again at having to drink gallons of alcohol until a whiff of the fog I'm looking for is sweating through my brain. But I don't think why I should leave so much money at a bar, even if I had the chance.
Ruby's friends started announcing a retreat with their nightly escort an hour ago. She apologized herself half an hour ago and walked to the exit with a tall, blond boy. Since then, I've been sitting here going through the list of cocktails on the drinks menu like a to-do list. Five I already have, ten could follow.
The loud music in the background doesn't bother me at all. I learned a long time ago to focus my concentration on the essentials. In this case, the shapes and colors of the bottle repertoire on the shelf on the wall.
From the corner of my eye, I see someone doing unusual, almost indecent behavior for a party. By this I do not mean omnipresent touches of a woman's body by men and women, or even a little too intense kisses on the wall, which belong more in a toilet cabin. No, I mean the fact that someone here doesn't seem to be having any fun any more than I do and sits down two stools next to me at the bar. Of course, this costs its price, after all, he has to squeeze himself between beating customers who have promised their one-night stand a drink, but he accepts that. What is indecent about his behaviour is, moreover, and most particularly, the look he draws. It's even more hopeless and desperate than mine, and that's got to mean something.
The young man who sat down and is now waiting to catch a free second from the bartender looks familiar. I'm sure I've seen the brown hair and equally brown eyes somewhere before, though I can't remember where right now. He holds himself bent over, his eyelids looking as if they weigh heavily, for his eyes are half closed. He looks hopeless, and yet I can't get away from eyeing his dark lashes for a few moments. Sixteen-year-olds would be jealous of that.
His desperate attempts to be able to order something amuse me. Just then the bartender leaves him for a petite but long blonde at the other end of the bar. He sighs and lowers his gaze, as if resigned to such behavior.
All it takes is a whistle, and the man behind the counter gives me his full attention. He turns on his heel and his blue eyes appraise me.
Sure, it's not a good thing to treat him like a servant, but I know I can afford it. Besides, he left his actual next client standing, so I don't care. »Two of your best bourbon.«, I give of myself and look to him waiting. Not a second later, the two drinks are in front of me, while I leave the waiter an overly high tip. I don't have to give up on him so soon.
Slipping along a stool, I sit next to the hopeless fall of a young man and push him one of the glasses. »You looked like you could use something decent. I hope I'm not wrong.«
»If they hired you, then I'll have to apologetically deny it. I'll give you double if you just let me go.«, he replies in an average to deep voice. It contrasts slightly with his appearance, as he seems a bit younger. »But it's already paid for anyway.«, he murmurs then, grabs the glass and drinks it down in one go.
Frowning, I watch the scenario unfold. As he finishes, I remember where I know him from. »So you really think your friends could even begin to compensate me for such services?« Pointing to the burgundy dress that hugs my body tightly but a little longer, I raise an eyebrow.
His cheeks turn a slight shade of red. »Excuse me, it'd just look a lot like them.« I sip the bourbon, which is nowhere near as good as the American, and remain silent for a moment. Maybe there's nothing wrong by a little talk.
»I'll accept the apology if you tell me why they think such a thing would be convenient for you.« He remains silent, scrutinizing me even after I've spent the second round of bourbon. It fascinates me to see how long it takes people to make what they think is the right decision for them.
»Alright, I have nothing left to lose anyway.«, he finally replies and turns to me. His black shirt is tight around his muscled upper arms, clearly tracing his chest. Weak girls would be blown away by now. »I recently, a little over three weeks ago, broke up with my girlfriend of many years. Apparently, it was felt that I had grieved long enough.«
»Doesn't seem like it was really in your mind to break up if you're so hung up on her. «, I return, eyeing him. He looks at me very irritated for a moment, kind of like I'm not from this world. He's not even completely wrong. »You know who I am, don't you?«
»What does that have to do with anything?« Of course I know who Tyrone Harmsworth is. It's not a secret. His poster hangs in front of every cinema and his face can be seen on the covers of some TV shows and movies. Not that I have time to deal with something like that.
His penetrating gaze is supposed to make me cautious, but amuses me more. »You don't read magazines, do you?«
»I don't have time for gossip.«, I give a truthful answer and counter with an equally intense look. Shortly thereafter, he withdraws, a natural reaction of the common man to look a beautiful woman in the eyes with willpower. Sometimes I imagine how much fun it would be to show them my real eyes.
It's the first time I've seen him smile a little that night.
I've already heard he's a little over twenty years old. Ruby totally falls for him. That's how I knew who I was looking at in the first place. But the fact his girlfriend broke up must have slipped my mind. Maybe I went into overdrive when Ruby told me about it, because I can't imagine she would leave something like that out.
»I overheard her on a very interesting phone call. Turns out she was more interested in my fame and money than in myself.«
»Seems like quite a likeable person.«, I reply a little more quietly, as I don't really know what to say to that. Love is something I've never had to deal with, aside from Ruby's crushes and those of a few others.
Somehow I feel sorry for him. I know girls like that are ubiquitous and celebrities have to deal with stuff like that more often. Normally, this sort of thing doesn't get too close to me. So far, however, no one has told me such a story himself, not while looking me in the eye. As I said, I don't know about that, but I do know what it's like to hope for love from someone who isn't capable of it. Who is always tempted to get the best for himself. The difference in me and Tyrone, though, is that his burden was on his heart, and mine was on my life. »I can well imagine that this can't be easy for you. Expecting love and respect from someone who actually just pushes you away when you don't obey is like a sword of Damocles. You never know when it's going to turn around and race toward you.«
»Sounds like you've had experience with it.« He looks at me compassionately. I can't blame him for that, after all, he has no idea what my broken heart is all about. However, I would never admit that it has already blown into its parts.
»Not directly with a romantic partner.« I put the empty glass away from me and push it towards the end of the counter. Shaking my head, I discard the thoughts of my past, at the moment they are still the lesser evil. »I think you're forced to fall in your life. Otherwise, we wouldn't appreciate standing. Somehow, everyone has to go through some pain, I think, because without it, we wouldn't even know what happiness really means. Healing is a long process, but one should not shut oneself away from it. It's good to suffer, because it's part of that process. Only the correct way of healing, the long one, will bring back your health in the end.«
He smiles again, this time a little more, so that his dimples come to light. It cheers me up a bit, at least for a moment.
Because the next time, my sanity commands me to run. At least to go to a place where I can disappear as soon as possible.
Somehow Tyrone must have noticed that my mood has turned from one second to the next by a hundred and eighty degrees, because he gives me a worried look. I push myself down from the stool and reach for my bag, which I had previously placed on the wall in the corner.
»Is everything all right?« Tyrone asks me when he realizes I have no plans to explain my behavior.
»I forgot something.«, it's coming from me, maybe a little too fast, like shooting out of a gun. »Should I get you out of he-«
»No.«
I put on the thin black jacket, which I don't really need, and then I shoulder my bag.
Time is really running out.
I can feel him, I can feel him sneaking through the crowd with his followers. As rude as I must be to Tyrone, it's for his and my own protection. I can still hear him calling out to me, asking me to at least tell him my name, but I don't pay any attention to that either. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. I can't risk anything.
There's no clue to tell me what he looks like or who he is. All I'm aware of is that they're gonna hunt me down until they get me.
But they have no idea who they're up against here. I don't want to hurt anyone.
Don't get me wrong. I don't need anyone. I could get caught, easily destroy their headquarters and kill them all one after the other. No one here could be a real threat to me.
But I didn't come to this earth for that. I didn't come here to destroy everything. I needed shelter, I needed a place to hide. I know they're looking for me. I know they want my head. What I don't know, though, is why my father is in first place in the hunt for me. Why he was always at the top of those whose red list had my name at the top. Sure, I was his mistake. His fault, and my mother's. Damn, if only my mother was different, my life wouldn't be so stressful.
I find myself in one of the toilet cabines. I block out thoughts of what has already happened in here tonight and how terribly unsanitary it all is. Tightly, I wrap my arms around my bag before closing my eyes to focus.
In the meantime, the application has become automatic and I don't feel sick anymore.
I feel the air around me being expressed, the music being distorted and suddenly disappearing, as well as – pleasantly – the muffling toilet bowls. Everything goes black, and then I'm in the middle of my little apartment.
I'm glad I was able to get the teleportation. I'm even more glad that no one knows about it.