Me Llamo Tokio (My Name Is Tokyo) - A Money Heist Prequel

Chapter 69 - Back Home

A foreign feeling hits me as I walk into my apartment. Even if I used here for a long time before, the months that passed by ever since I left this place changed me for good.
I used to say that the old Silene died. And, now I can see the truthfulness of that affirmation as I can't recognize the person who used to live here at all.
Music cds, vinyls, books, tapes. All these things stuffed on the shelves of my small bookcase seem like they're from another world.
"You want a coffee?" Juan asks like we just entered his house and not mine.
"Yeah," I reply absent wile taking my fingers over the thick layer of dust from the TV. "No sugar."
He mumbles something that sounds like an affirmation and heads to the kitchen.
To be completely honest with myself, I don't know why I wanted to come back here. But, in a way, it felt like the right thing to do. I needed a closure with this place and here, I have it. Not recognizing my old self who used to live in this place, dress up in sparkling dresses every night and going to sing at the jazz club means that I'm over it. I'm over everything from the past, including who I was and my bigger traumas.
Even if exhausting as hell, traumatizing and filled with all sort of emotions from happiness to despair, the months that passed left their mark on me harder than my entire thirty years of existence.
I leave the small living room, but not before taking one last look at the now clean floor. The last time we were here, Sancho's dead body was laying in there covered with an old blanket.
My first crime.
I think of it sometimes even if I'm trying so hard to make myself forget about it. But, I guess there are things in life that happen with such a magnitude, that the impact is too big for your mind and, you simply can't erase them.
A smile appear on my face in the moment when I step into my bedroom. Everything here is untouched. Like Rodrigo's men who came to clean the place forgot about the existence of this room. All the clothes that I took out from my wardrobe in the day of my sudden departure are still spread on the bed.
I let myself fall over them too. Here I am, where it all began, overlooking the cracks from the ceiling.
If I would've stayed in that night none of these would have happened. I would've probably still went to the same jazz club and Juan would've been dead.
I freeze for a second at the thought that the love of my life would've died if it wasn't for my sudden will to drink my sadness away at the closest bar.
The sound of his footsteps moving through the kitchen calms me. I place a hand on my heart, breathing in and out, trying to control my accelerated heartbeat. He's here and nothing bad can happen.
A loud sigh escapes my lips in the moment when I succeed to calm the avalanche of thoughts that's hitting me. I used to be his guardian angel too, back when it all started. Actually, if I analyze the situation, we kept saving each other's back for quite a while.
"The coffee is ready." I hear him calling me from the kitchen. "Do you want me to bring it there for you."
"Nope, I'm coming," I say jumping out of the bed in the same way like in the night we met.
I take one last look before closing the door after me. The makeup products that I used in the night when I last went out as a normal person are still spread on the vanity table. The lipstick was left opened and the white powder is staining the black of the wood, exactly as I left them.
Some things should remain as they are. I think as I walk to the kitchen, there's nothing left to fix here.
Juan puts the coffee cup in front of me as I take a seat at the small kitchen table. I don't think I've ever felt more foreign in a place. Not even when I visited my mom's house in Madrid, never. This apartment seems like it stopped belonging to me in the moment when I abandoned it.
I take a sip from the mug and I'm quite impressed that he still remembers the mug that I drank from back when we first had breakfast together. The coffee is strong and has the power to refresh my senses. It's exactly what I needed in order to be able to get over the tornado of memories that's spinning around my thoughts.
"Thank you," I tell Juan.
"No worries," he replies with a smile, "I was going to make you coffee anyway."
"No, not for that," I laugh. "For taking me here. It's the closure that I needed with this place. And, to be honest, I don't think we'll ever come back."
"What are you gonna do with it, then?" Juan asks.
"I don't know." This is the most honest answer that I have. "I guess sell it. Or just give it to Rodrigo to use it as a hideout or something if he needs it."
"I think he'll be happy to hear that after what we did with his car," he laughs. "Even if, I'm quite sure he'll never accept this. I think you should rather sell it, if you're ready to brake up with this place for good."
"I really don't know." I look at my distorted in the dark abyss of my coffee before taking a huge gulp. "I'd rather keep it as a memory."
"A memory?" Juan sounds really confused.
"Yes." I smile. "A memory of the night we met."
Now I can see my smile mirrored on Juan's face and I know that he likes the idea too.
"Maybe we won't come here physically anytime soon, but sometimes, when things go bad, we can visit this place in spirit, through our imagination and relieve the events that brought us together." I don't think I've ever said something more intelligent in my entire life.
"Oh." Is the only thing that escapes from between Juan's lips while he's looking at me with admiration.
I can't deny it either. I'm really proud of myself. From the girl who was depressed and staying in her apartment, this year, I grew up and metamorphosed into this successful woman. In the heists world, that's true, but robberies are a serious business too.
A thing is crystal clear — I'm not who I used to be anymore. The experiences that I've been through made me feel like I'm not thirty but forty or even fifty sometimes. I was pregnant, I gave birth, I lost my child, I was raped, I got married, I was tortured, and so many other things. But, my biggest achievement is that I did fifteen clean robberies till now. We did them. Good times or bad times, laughing or arguing, we were together, always. I hope that this is how we'll remain forever, no matter what happens. And, maybe if it's not possible, I hope we'll be able to work like the concept of this place, to visit each other at least in spirit, if the physical world will put a barrier between us.
I get up and take the empty cups from the table.
"Silene, it's okay, I can do them," Juan says.
"No, it's fine, you already did the coffee," I say with a smile.
"Alright." I'm glad he finally agrees with me. "Then I'll take a tour of the apartment and then, if you're ready we can go."
"Of course."
Before I get to say anything else, his lips are over mine, united in a deep kiss.
"Fuck!" I say on his lips in the moment when I realize that I accidentally dropped a cup from my hand.
"I'm so sorry," he says immediately starting to gather the porcelain pieces from the floor. "I shoul..."
"No, don't you ever say sorry for that," I tell him. "Thank you, it was indeed something that I needed."
"Then, I'm glad," Juan says while still gathering the pieces from his broken cup.
I put my mug in the sink and fill it with water. Apparently, instead of the apartment your, Juan remained with me in the kitchen to gather the pieces from his broken cup, while I washed mine fast.
"I guess we can go," I announce in the moment when I turn the water off. "Unless you still wanna take that tour."
"There's no need," he says with a smile. "I already have the most important thing impregnated in my mind."
"And what is that?" I ask raising an eyebrow.
"You smiling in the middle of this kitchen while I made you break up the cup with my surprise kiss." He's visibly proud of his achievement.
"What makes you think I smiled at you?" I tease him. "You made me coffee, you know I love it."
"Really?" Juan asks laughing. "Then why are you smiling now too?"
His lips are again embracing mine, this time in an even deeper and passionate kiss. I can't deny it, he's right. Juan is the only person that can make me smile even in the saddest of situations.
I feel his hands on my hips, pushing me slowly in the wall behind me while the kiss is getting even more passionate than before. There's a hidden desire in both of us, only something tells me that it's not the right time.
So, I take Juan's face in my palms, making him stop and look at me.
"I want this too," I tell him genuine, "only I don't think I want this here."
"Yes, sorry." He looks embarrassed.
I didn't want this to happen, only I had no idea how else I could tell him. Damn, I really wanted to have sex with him, but not now, not in this place. All the guys that I had sex with in this apartment are either dead due to overdose or don't even remember me. And, I don't want Juan to end up in neither of these categories.
"Let's go," I say trying to sound normal.
"Of course." He agrees.
I smile as I take his hand and give him the apartment's keys. It's somehow funny how we humans act like animals sometimes.
All the days spent at the beach in Costa Brava created almost a ritual for us. Wake up, breakfast, swimming, beach sex, then lunch, siesta, more swimming, sex before dinner was optional, dinner, and definitely sex. Judging by the hour, Juan was really into the very rare scenarios of sex instead of siesta. And, I'm trying really hard not to laugh because the moment was much more than that. We're not secluded in a villa in Costa Brava anymore.
Juan closes the door of the apartment behind us and, for some reason, I don't feel to look back. It is what it is. This is just a part of my past that I'm finally ready to let it go. I'm too absorbed by my current thoughts to be bothered that the door that separates me and my place was closed for some time that's best to call it forever.
The fact that after I gave birth a doctor told me that I can't have kids anymore due to I don't know about what I heard complication really brightened my sex life. I was now fucking carelessly without worrying that at some point I'll grow a bump and my life will go to hell all of a sudden. It was really nice to throw up just because of alcohol and to be certain about it.
Somehow I feel bad for refusing Juan, but I just couldn't do it there. I was too afraid.
I'm glad that we take the stairs instead of the small elevator. The last thing I wanted right now is to remind myself of our first night when I carried him to my apartment.
"Thank you," he whispers in the moment when we arrive in the main hallway.
"For what?" I ask even if I know he's thinking about that night too.
"You took me in and helped me, back in the first day we met," he says with a smile. "You saved my life."
"Don't mention it." I try to make it sound really casual. "You saved mine countless times and even from worse situations."
"That you were in because of me," Juan says.
"No, don't you even think about it!" I exclaim while pushing the large mahogany door that goes outside. "Don't you dare go back there! Once you'll step over this threshold you'll have to promise me that you'll stop blaming yourself for my decisions."
"Fine," he says with a laugh.
Then, from a single movement I being lifted up in his arms while he jumps over the threshold. He kisses me deeply before putting me down slowly.
"Fine," he whispers in my ear.
I give him a killer look and laugh before entering in the car.
This was our life. Or, at least, what make it so beautiful and fascinating.
"Alright, lets go!" Juan says cheerfully once back in the car. "Next stop Madrid."
"And planning our next robbery!" I can't stop thinking about that.
"Yes, absolutely," he laughs. "But today after we'll arrive we should get some rest. We can plan everything tomorrow and do the robbery the day after."
"Fine," I agree and lean on to kiss him before he turns on the engine.
I choose to follow this man a few months ago thinking that it's going to change my life. And, I couldn't be more right. Everything is better now, because, unlike before, right now I do what makes me feel whole. It sounds wrong to say that to be a robber was your life's call, but sometimes we need the villains to see the heroes. But, in my story, I'll never be the hero, not the villain. I'll always be the girl who just followed her heart and ended up discovering that she's worth way more than everyone else has told her before. In my story I choose to be the thing that sometimes is the hardest when you think of the consequences, but I choose to be myself.