Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 5-5

The establishment was located in the oldest part of town. The ten-story orange brick building had two large metal ladders sealed to the wall at the back, giving direct access to the roof where the panoramic view of Sheryl Valley was magnificent. I took a deep breath, then began to climb, being careful not to slip.

"Ronney!" Alistair exclaimed when he saw me appear on the terrace. "Hurry up, Daphne will be dancing soon."

He and Bergamote invited me with hurried gestures to come and sit with them. I did so, happy not to have missed the show. The voice of Édith Piaf, a famous French singer from another era with a unique timbre, echoed in Alistair's record player.

"Let's hope the rain doesn't come right away," said Bergamote, handing me a sandwich. "I brought an umbrella in case things go wrong."

From here, we dominated the whole city. The lights were reflected on the frozen lake and the horizon, giving a unique atmosphere to the passing time. This place, with its exceptional view of the ochre roofs of the houses, was my sanctuary. Here I felt closer to Heaven than to earth. The worries of everyday life remained at the foot of the building.

"I imagine you enjoyed every second of today, Ronney."

Alistair wasn't really waiting for an answer. Like Bergamote, his gaze was focused on the large windows a little further down. Through them, we could see the star dancers warming up before starting their dance class.

"Not really," I answered softly. "An unpleasant event interfered with my day, which was supposed to be perfect."

I took another bite of my sandwich. Bergamote turned her head towards me with an insistent look full of questions.

"Yeraz came to Red Channel and kidnapped me for a few hours."

"Yeraz Khan?" exclaimed Alistair, stunned and angry.

My roommates were curious, waiting to hear every detail of my time with the young man. For a few minutes, I told them about my disastrous recording session at the studio, him buying the building, my rage at my scooter that wouldn't start, and his proposal for lunch at the overpriced restaurant.

With round eyes, Bergamote asked me in her soft, slightly drawling voice, "You didn't think to call the police?"

"He almost offered to dial for me. Khan could shoot up a crowd in the middle of the city, and he'd be out of his cell in a minute. He's untouchable."

"This all sounds dangerous to me, Ronney. You should give up this job. Right, Bergamote?"

She nodded, looking stern. I thought about Yeraz's offer: to give me the money for my brother's treatment in exchange for my resignation. I took the last bite of my sandwich and chewed furiously.

"No. All my life I have been running away. I have lowered my head instead of raising it. I need an outlet and my outlet will be him!"

"I'm not young anymore, but I can give you a hand," Alistair offered, looking mischievous as he served me a glass of red wine.

"Look, the class is starting!" Bergamote said.

Her attitude suddenly changed to one of complete bliss. I turned towards the large windows. The dancers were beginning their dance with a grace and sureness that most people would never have. A blissful smile appeared on my face. Their movements, full of rare elegance, caressed the air with perfect coordination. Seventeen dancers dashed impetuously through the perfectly lit room.

This amazing performance was going to happen in a few weeks, on Thanksgiving Day, on the biggest stage in Sheryl Valley. My two roommates and I had saved up most of the year to afford the seats. Every Saturday we watched them practice in total secrecy from the rooftop. This place had been Alistair's Garden of Eden for decades, and he had shared the magical place with, creating a moment of inner peace and communion with the spirit. It was our Saturday night date.

"Daphne is coming!" exclaimed Alistair, standing, followed by Bergamote.

The best dancer started her solo by tilting her head to the left and then to the right. She was dazzling, dressed all in white. The reflections of the light glistened on her black skin, making her even more majestic than she already was. The music didn't travel to us, but we were transported by every gesture, every step Daphne took. She hypnotized us.

Finally, the evening was ending rather well. The three of us were on our most important date of the week, with our Daphne.