The Innocent (A 'Finder' Fanfiction)

Gemini - Chapter 1

The blonde man had already caught the eye of two of the waitresses. They were in their mid-twenties, had both put a shiny white apron around their black dresses and had their hair fixed in the same way – a tight bun pulled it to the back of their heads. Even their makeup seemed identical. Very likely it was some sort of "corporate-design" for all the women working at the illustrious Café situated between the old town of Warsaw and the city's university.

Presently, there were only a few guests around – due to it being off tourist season and in the middle of the week – and the two girls for once did indeed have the time to whisper and snicker to each other. On weekends, on the other hand, especially in summer, the crowds showing up here for breakfast, tea, and cakes were unbelievable.

... just one of the many reasons, why Aaron had never liked this place. The list of causes for his aversion was long. He had no sympathies for the attempt to recreate some British 19th Century chic. It felt to him exactly like he believed Disneyland would feel to him: fake and superficial. People would come here to pretend for some short time that they were someone else, somewhere else. They would think that they had suddenly turned into something apart from the despicable excuses for human-beings they were in reality.

It just felt to him like playing at being a family at Christmas.

Of course, he knew, that exactly for these reasons this place had been chosen as their meeting point. After all, his brother was all about make-believe and pretense.

And how they all loved him for his fake smiles, his sparkly eyes and impeccable manners! Very few had ever managed to see the truth behind all that and lived to tell the tale afterwards.

These two women, however, ... They would never know about any of that. They would glance for a little longer at the man sitting alone in the corner with his legs crossed, wearing a dark blue suit and looking smug. Then they would forget him. Because that happened as well.

He was a chameleon, blending in anywhere perfectly. No one ever thought him capable of any misdeeds or falseness, and therefore hardly anybody was ever on guard when they met him. One had to be a very vigilant being to even sense that there might be the slightest thing off about him. And because no one took him to be suspicious in any way, he had been able to just stroll out of any scheme and plot and fight he had ever pulled, smiling and unfazed.

Aaron though knew him too well. He had learned his lessons the hard way.

When he walked through the Café with its brown, black and white checkered floor, white tablecloths, and golden picture frames, the two women noticed him.

"Sir, may I take you to a table?", one asked in Polish, and even though he understood her well, Aaron answered in English: "I'll do that on my own."

He walked past the two, not waiting for any reaction, and approached the table with the one man, who had now looked up. Naturally, he smiled as he always did. His eyes sparkled and seemed to brim with joy.

'What a lie!', Aaron mused to himself.

It all fit the other man so well: The white porcelain of the tea cup and pot, the silver cutlery, the expensive bottle of water and crystal glass, the crimson, tiny cake in front of him of which he had not yet taken a bite. Aaron would have loved to spit onto the floor in disgust. Instead, he dragged a chair roughly over, then sat down opposite the other.

"Good morning", that man said.

That man... Alex. Handsome, blonde, blue-eyed Alex. Well-tanned as always from spending most of his days at the Côte d'Azur, fucking some models presumably half his age and less intelligent than the animals on which their makeup got tested before it was allowed for sale. There he did his work from the phone or from a notebook, sitting on the balcony of a luxury hotel or on some Yacht floating on the gleaming blue waters. Like that, he sent his men to fight his dirty wars and threw them in front of the enemy's artillery because not anybody's life had ever mattered to him. Not that of those loyal to him, not that of any family member.