T is for Trouble. (English)

Chapter 3.

"You're about to go on your fifth mission yet you're still reading the instructions before you leave. I don't know if you're cautious or just stupid."

I could feel Felix's eyes on Agent Seanor. But he hadn't mind so much that he kept talking as I remained silent. 

"What you have to do is so simply that I got it with one quick glance. Go to the hotel, kill the man, bring the tracking chip in here. Simple. You won't even need to clean up the mess you'll make." 

I knew that and the reason I had read what I had to do wasn't because I didn't understand. I was trying to linger as much as I could even though it was a simple mission because I had never killed a man before. I hadn't even hurt an animal and I knew it was going to be too hard for me. 

"Come on, I mea--"

"Ted-- ...Agent Seanor, I suppose you have other works to be busy with, am I wrong? Now if you leave Agent T alone, she needs to get ready."

Felix had saved me as as always and I had no idea why he kept doing this. Maybe he pitied me, maybe he thought I was his responsibility... But I was thankful to him for my every day here. It was good to have someone to guide me, calm me down and watch my back.

When Agent Seanor left, I had sit silent for a while with my head between my hands. Felix must have seen that I needed time so he sat there with me in silent. And once I could find the confidence I had got up and noticed that my nervousness didn't decrease even a little bit. 

"I know this is going to be hard for you, and I wish I had a say on Organization's choices, but right now, all I can do is to wish you luck, T."

"Let's do it. I want it to be over already."

"Don't forget, if there will be something wrong, I'll bring you back. You're not going to stay out there a second more than you need to be, okay?"

After working for Organization for years, I'd think nothing would surprise me anymore but it takes me only one word to get paralyzed on my place. 

RUN.

I have no idea what could it mean and I don't know why would Organization do such a thing. But I know this handwriting well. It belongs to the only man I decided to trust years ago. So I take the letter and leave the motel as soon as I can. I start to walk fast without knowing where to go, what am I running from or what the hell is going on. When I make sure that I'm far enough from the motel, I take my phone out and try to find something, maybe some sort of clue to help me. Since it's really cold -and of course standing in the middle of the street looking at my phone wouldn't go unnoticed by the people who'd possibly watch me- I get into a cafe like a normal, regular person would. 

"How's it going, Ella, the usual order?" says the tall waiter who stands right there as I sit down. 

"I... -well, you know me... Dan." I look at the waiter with a smile I hope looks relaxed enough. It's a great advantage for me that he has a name badge.

"Coffee with milk and no sugar it is then." 

As the waiter leaves, I watch him and try to find out something about my Carrier and their relationship. He had called me with my first name and he seemed happy yet not surprised when I saw me. My Carrier, whose name was Ella as I just found out, must be coming here so often. Probably lives in somewhere nearby. Or has other reasons to come here. But, what?

"Here, two milk coffees without sugar, as you wished. "  It's hard not to notice the big smile that appears on his face when he's talking with me

my Carrier. 

Acquaintance? Friend? Something more? As I want to say that I didn't order two coffees, he sits in front of me.

"What are you doing here at this hour? I mean, not that I don't want you to come here, it's just... Didn't you have rehearsal?"

Rehearsal? Carriers aren't supposed to be picked from busy people. They're always the people whom no one would notice if they disappear for a while...

"Canceled. So I decided that I'd come here to get a little warm." I say, hoping that it's a convincing response.

"Again? You won't be able to get it ready to Christmas..."

I nod, surprised on how lucky I am. But I have a feeling that I won't be always this lucky if this conversation goes on like this. So I take a sip from my coffee (I hate milk coffee but this coffee has a nice and familiar taste. It's probably about my Carrier and not the coffee...) and decide to change the subject. "How was your day?" Changing the subject when in danger/possible danger is the oldest trick in the book. Also it can be helpful for me to get information about my Carrier. Such things don't always happen very often, but... 

"Oh you know, I was at the art studio in the morning, then came here. Usual stuff. I don't have enough time to work on my project but I'm making progress. " I must admit, there's something about this young man that I like. Maybe the way he acts all shy but at the same time confident, maybe his smile, maybe-- Oh my God, they sent me right in the middle of an unestablished, awkward relationship stuff.  What is Organization trying to do? Felix, what are you doing? 

"So, what do you say?"

I chuckle as I wake up from my daydream. "Ah, sorry, what?" 

"I asked if you wanted to visit the art studio. You don't have to, but I'd like you to."

As I don't have any idea about my next step, I accept and notice a faint pinkness on his cheeks which I know that also I have 

my Carrier has.

After about 15 minutes of sitting together and drinking coffee, we leave the cafe and begin to walk side by side on the dark streets. As I find out from the time we spent together in the cafe and the street, the cute waiter, Dan, is a good friend of my Carrier. But you have to be blind not to see the tension between them They're probably friends for a few years and their artistic souls had brought them closer. The guy is a painter who has bright ideas to open a gallery but also very few money. And appearently my Carrier is an actress on a little theater group.

But what really surprises me is that Danny's (as my Carrier appearently calls him which I found out when he made an impersonation of her) photographic memory. He never forgets a face he once sees. And he paints one person he comes across everyday. The gallery he wants to open is about the faces we all see everyday, but never remember. The faces that walk past us but never go noticed. But he notices. 

After a while, we arrive to the art studio and a smile like I saw in the cafe when I first arrived appears on Danny's face. There are tens of portraits in the little studio. They're all so beautiful. It's been too long since I quit appreciating beauties. I don't have time for these anymore. I notice something on the back as I walk around, looking at the paintings and I walk to that direction quickly. It's a painting of a young woman with black hair and  blue eyes. A little frown and lips straight as a line.

Danny sees that I look at the painting amazed/shocked and comes near me with a proud smile. 

"I saw her the other day for a really little time. She was smoking with her back against a wall and she had this strict and nervous look on her face. I wonder what her story is."

I look at the painting without saying anything for a while. I know this woman's story. This woman is me.