Everything But Love

Chapter 9- The Masked Hero

That night was pure agony. I paced around my living room endlessly, my mind racing with the unfortunate events that had transpired. My cellphone lay on top of the coffee table facing up with the volume on the highest setting. It was like I was expecting a call from God– or perhaps the devil himself.

Emilio's going to kill you. I deserved it. I deserved every bad thing coming my way. If Emilio were to barge into my apartment and beat me to death with a crowbar, I wouldn't object or try to fight back. No – on second thought, he would pummel me to death. A man that spent that much time at the gym would surely prefer to use his fists instead. Besides, I imagine there's a certain carnal desire to strangle your enemy with your bare hands; to feel their life slip from between your fingers as you crush their esophagus. Yes, Emilio would definitely prefer to use his hands. You should just save him the trouble and drive off a cliff. I felt a brief sense of comfort at the thought of it. I imagined how my mother would feel when they discovered my mangled body and quickly shook off the thought.

I needed to do something. Anything. I picked up my phone and stared at the screen. Suddenly, I scrolled through my contacts and landed on Celeste's number. I dialed her without thinking and held the phone to my ear. What are you doing?!

The line rang twice with no answer. I began to get nervous. Maybe she's not by the phone?

I imagined her curled up in her bed, reading some sappy romance novel and ignoring her cell phone ringing on her nightstand. She would pick up the phone in a minute, she thought, after she had finished the long-awaited chapter. It was just too hard to resist. She could always just return the call – if the caller was important enough.

The line rang a third time.

Now she was reaching the climax of the story. The hero had just defeated the villain by some incalculable chance and was riding his white steed to the castle to profess his love to the princess. Celeste's eyes would be glued to the book, her heart pacing with anticipation and desire. Would the hero make it to her in time?

The line rang a fourth time.

Now the hero was close. He had reached the castle and approached the princess's chambers. He opened the door to see her sitting there in her luxurious gown, waiting for him. Only him. She had been waiting a long time for this moment, maybe even her whole life. He approached her cautiously, and without saying a single word, pulled her in by the waist and dipped her ballroom-style. Their eyes met briefly before he pulled her into a kiss. Celeste could barely contain her excitement. Now the phone call did not matter at all. Her fictitious world was more important than a phone call from someone who wasn't even the hero of his own story; someone who could never save her, but rather, needed to be saved. Did she ever wish she could be kissed by a masked hero? Had she ever been kissed at all?

"You've reached Celeste, I'm sorry I couldn't pick up your call. Please leave a message!"

I ended the phone call in defeat. What a stupid idea. I sprawled myself on my bed. I wasn't even sure what I would say to her if she picked up. Would I tell her the truth? No, surely not. I could never expose myself to Celeste; she would never talk to me again. I was done being a disappointment to others and I couldn't handle another rejection. For some reason, the thought of losing her scared me more than the fear of Emilio beating the life out of me. Maybe it was because I felt like I deserved to be punished for what I had done, but losing Celeste would be a punishment I didn't think I deserved – yet. I knew I would manage to drive her away eventually, it was just a matter of when. I could never convince anyone to stay with me for long, and Celeste was no exception. I was unlovable and that was the cold, hard truth.

Ring! Ring! My heart stopped. I peered down at my phone in disbelief. It was Celeste.

"Hello?"