Telltale Tango | Complete

Twelve - Feliciano

My eyes turn to Giselle and time grinds to a wrapped, ticking halt. It's like watching two cars speeding towards a blind corner from opposite sides. The roads are slick from the rain. No amount of shouting is going to change anything. One car flies past you in a blur. A gust hits your face, blows your hair back and sends a chill down your spine. Screeching breaks echo through the air. You brace for impact. Soon crunching metal and shattering glass are the only sounds in your ear.

I lied. And I thought I could come clean before something like this would happen. My face is stinging from Logan's punch. But that pain can't hold a candle to the piercing feeling cutting thought to my heart. I'm sorry Giselle. Fasten your seatbelt. Here comes the head-on collision.

"What did you never tell me?" Giselle's tone is as cold as her stare.

My throat tightens up when I open my mouth. No words come out.

Logan chuckles. "That he messed around caught feelings for you."

"Feliciano," she says. "What is Wyatt talking about?"

"Since we're on the subject, my name is Logan. Wyatt's the name me and Feliciano came up with."

"Came up with for what?" Giselle bites down on that last word.

"To catfish you," I spit out, feeling the weight of the world crushing my chest.

Tears well up in her eyes. "Please tell me this is just some lame attempt at a joke."

"Tell her, man," Logan slaps my shoulder, pulls up a chair, turns it around and sits down. "Tell her about our little arrangement where we catfish girls by having them show up at the bar where you work. Then the girl realizes I don't look anything like my profile picture, and who steps in like a white knight to save the damsel in distress? The handsome bartender, of course. We change things up a bit when it's my turn to get the girl, but you get the picture, right?" he grins.

"Why do you do that, Feliciano?" That simmering anger turning her face red is making her voice shake.

"I'm sorry... but you need to know that it was different with you," I reply with a lump in my throat. "I... I didn't just want to--"

"Get it in and get out," Logan cuts in. "That's our motto. Cute, right?"

"Was." I shoot daggers at him, and reach across the table to hold her hand, but she pulls it back. "I wanted to get to know you because I felt something when we were together... something I haven't felt in a long time."

Giselle shakes her head at me. "I can't believe I trusted you."

"I'm being straight up with you, Giselle. Everything this asshole said," I turn to Logan. "I'm leaving all that behind me--I want us to start something new."

She stands up. "There is no us. And there never will be."

Jumping out of my seat, I grab her hand before she can turn away. "Give me a chance to explain. Por favor?"

Giselle grabs a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and throws it in my face. "Put it on his bill," she puts the flute back on the tray. "Never touch me again." She marches out of the room towards the exit.

My heart bleeds as she walks out of my life for what feels like forever. The rush of hurt that hits me, kills the throbbing pain in my jaw. My whole body goes numb.

Every eye in the restaurant is on me. I can feel it. Trying to play things cool, I go back to the table, wipe my face off with a napkin and ask for the bill. When the guy comes back with the credit card terminal, I pay up, making sure I add a big tip. Nobody working here gets paid enough for dealing with this kind of shit.

I stare at the ground, zoned out, replaying Giselle telling me there'll never be an us. I've never seen anyone so pissed. But can I blame her? Logan's annoying voice brings me back to the real world. I thought he was already gone. Regardless, I don't turn my head. Acknowledging his presence would be paying him way more respect than he's worth. Take the hint, pendejo.

"You brought this on yourself," Logan laughs, shaking his head. "I thought you figured this shit out after Amanda. We had a perfect system until you let that bitch mess with your--"

I swing without waiting for the rest of the sentence to exit his mouth. A bolt of pain shoots from my knuckles through the rest of my arm. But it hurts so good. Logan hits the floor. I open and close my hand, shaking it out, hoping to ease the ache. All eyes are on me again. Someone who looks like a manager is heading my way flanked by two guys in black shirts who definitely lift. I pull a twenty dollar bill out of my wallet and put it on the table.

"I'm leaving," I say before hurrying to the door.

That whole wrapped thing from earlier continues during my walk to the train. I can tell people are walking past me, but they all look like blurs of colour. They're chattering, car horns honk, but it's all distorted. One sound dominates my earwaves, playing on repeat with every step I take: Never touch me again.

With my head pressed against the window, I think about us. The pain of those nevers hurt more than my jaw and my hand. When Amanda left, that was on her. As much as I didn't want us to end, the situation was out of my hands. But with Giselle, no matter which way I look at it, I can't see how I'm not the one shouldering the blame.

As I'm coming around the corner to my street, flashing red and blue lights hook my attention. There's a slim possibility it has nothing to do with my apartment building, but I need to confirm that first. I'm practically sprinting as a hundred scenarios play through my mind. The high rise comes into view. I stop dead in my tracks.

Three firetrucks and an ambulance are parked just off the entrance. A crowd of people are gathered behind the emergency vehicles in a semicircle. I can't smell any smoke. No flames seem to be coming out of anywhere. But all the windows are pitch black to the point where the building looks like a tall, brick shadow.

I walk up to my neighbour, Zheng to ask him what's going on.

He shakes his head. "Pipe broke and flooded the electrical room."

"Shit. Did anything catch fire?" I ask.

"Surprisingly, no. The Ghostbuster Apartments live to die another day. But the power is supposed to be out for at least the rest of the night. I'm taking this as a sign to move the hell out of this joint. I can't live like this anymore."

Just then, the building manager gives the all clear for everyone to go back inside. As the crowd files in, Zheng slings a backpack over his shoulder.

"Have a good night, man," he says.

I wrinkle my forehead. "Where are you off to?"

"Airport."

"What flights are taking off at this hour?"

"None, but my girl's in town."

"Right, she's a flight attendant."

"Nailed it. Anyway, have a good one--despite the whole Darkness Falls lighting vibes," he gestures to the building.

"Thanks, man," I chuckle. "Take care."

Inside, the stairwell is lit up by dozens of phone lights heading upwards and the peeling off at each floor. Eventually, I make it to my stop, head down the dark hallway, whip out my keys and dip inside my unit. My shoes echo when they hit the creaky hardwood floor. I head straight for the living room, managing to avoid bumping into my coffee table. Breathing out a heavy sigh, I slump down onto the couch and stare into the darkness.