Meet me at 1 AM

Prologue

I took another hit from the cigarette while walking down that barely lit pathway to my usual place. It was a few minutes past midnight. The moon was at its zenith and covered the leaves in dark blue ink.

The right side of my face still hurt and my busted lip was a souvenir left by my so-called father. I didn't care about it. I didn't care about a lot of things anymore. The late walks through the park at 1 am, the dangers that lurked here in this remote part of the city, or the constant stealing. I took another hit from the cigarette and thanked the careless guy who had let his bag out of sight for a moment.

After more than half an hour of walking, I finally got to the bench that gave me a few hours of peace night after night. With a sigh, I lay down on my back, my face towards the dark sky and played my audiobook. I tapped my feet on the opposite armrest to a beat I basically wanted to forget. The night was unusually cool and I pressed my jacket tighter against my torso. The zipper was broken and my T-shirt provided no warmth.

Usually, the stars greeted me with their soft glow but today they forgot to show up. A storm was coming, I could smell it. Or maybe it was just in my head like the neverending screams that followed my every step. Either way I didn't care. My sister didn't care either and my brother cared too much. I blinked and tried to erase the pictures in my head. Lucky bastard - how I would have wished to be in his place. My sister on the other hand was a piece of shit, maybe even worse than my parents.

The last chapter of my audiobook was coming to an end and I propped myself up to light up my last cigarette. The sound of burning tobacco was like a soothing melody in my head, the smell of smoke my dearest friend. My only friend. But I didn't care.

I stuffed my earphones in one of my jacket pockets and closed my eyes, just listening to the muffled sounds of the night. I wasn't afraid to be here alone. I've already been through everything that could possibly happen. Robbing me would make no sense either. Except for my barely functioning phone, there was nothing to get. Let them take it, I thought to myself, I'll steal another one.

Suddenly the air shifted. Like a warning, it urged me to run away, to leave and never come back. But I didn't. Someone skittered across the park, making the dry leaves crackle under the boots. The intruder picked up speed and I turned my face towards the irritating noise.

Then I saw him. He stopped abruptly and looked down at me. There was something elegant, something authoritative about his posture, and despite his tall frame, I felt...nothing. No fear, no panic. My face was expressionless, blank as I stared at his face. I could not really perceive his features, it was too dark around me. He stepped closer, tilted his head and I raised my chin.

"Are you here to buy drugs?" he asked, quite intrigued. I snorted in disgust.

"Do I look like I need drugs?" My lip and my cheekbone hurt while moving my mouth. I was no longer used to talking. Usually, there were no dialogue partners around. He let out a sound that could almost pass as a laugh.

"To be honest? Yes." I raised an eyebrow, my only reaction to his comment. When he saw that I wasn't going to keep the conversation going, he stepped even closer but I didn't back off. No, I stood my ground. "What's your name?" I looked him up and down, analyzed him, his clothes, his expression. Nothing gave away what was going on inside his head. Maybe nothing, I thought.

"Will you leave me alone if I tell you?" I asked, my voice hoarse. He weighed his answer, looked at his watch, and then back down at me.

"No," he replied seriously, "However, I'll trade a cigarette for an answer." His proposal was tempting. I considered his words, gave in and leaned back.

"You first," was my only response. He snorted, took out a pack of cigarettes and handed me one. I nodded, accepting the trading and lit it. "Darcy. Happy?" I asked sarcastically.

"Not at all," he said so quietly that I thought I only imagined it. The guy sat down next to me and lit his cigarette too. My bargain didn't include spending time together. I was quite busy enjoying myself alone.

"Well, it's a you-problem. It would be better for you to just leave me alone." His face came closer until I could feel the cool cigarette smoke on my cheek.

"Where did you get that busted lip, Darcy?" he asked and I saw the amusement in his eyes. A hint of surprise rose in me until it was swallowed by the darkness in my mind. It was my time to come closer, blowing the smoke in his eyes to irritate him.

"My father forgot to take off his ring before he beat me senseless. Normally he leaves out the face, though," I replied as an unfamiliar and provocative grin spread across my face when I saw his perplexed expression. Surprise quickly gave way to a facade of ice.

"That's a shame. Your face could have been decent, even pretty for low standards." He took the last hit and threw the butt on the ground, stomping on it. I considered his words. Clearly, he wanted to provoke me but I didn't give in. Instead, I fixed my gaze on his face, and analyzed his expression.

"Yeah, what a shame," I whispered, playfully insulted. His lips formed a smirk and for the first time during our conversation, he looked slightly normal.

Silently, he stood up, looking one last time down at me. "That was a lie, Darcy." He dragged out my name, savouring every syllable. Out of his mouth, it sounded like a melody, a plea and a promise.

Without a goodbye, he turned his back on me and disappeared into the darkness. With a sigh, I leaned back and put my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I was startled when my fingers brushed over a small box. With a frown - followed by a hiss - I pulled it out and spun it in the pale light of the distant lanterns.

His cigarettes.