BLACK ROSE

Seconds

Alex.

There are a number of things I realise as I walk through the streets this late afternoon, hands deep in my pockets and stare at the hideous building on the other side of the street.

The hideous building that became my second home.

The hideous building that's, in a way, beautiful from the inside.

It's safe to say I'm something of a liar. Pathological. I continue lying to myself, and I continue forgiving myself. It's a vicious cycle, and this morning's promise wasn't helpful.

It's a worldwide known lie when I say I'll never step foot here again.

I refuse to believe, or accept, this is the last time I'm supposed to fight the weight of these heavy metal doors. Or inhale the so acquainted smell of sex and cinnamon, or walk through the maze of corridors. I've spent almost ten years coming here nearly every single day. It's impossible to leave a place as meaningful as that behind in just one day.

The building Calhoun chose for his residency is tremendously hideous, I realise for the third time in just two minutes. It's huge, an old forgotten warehouse, yet the coating of the murals, once coloured a fresh winter grey, has fallen off. Created puddles of grey mural pieces around the street. For understandable reasons Cal has never invested a great amount of money to the reconstruction of the exterior. Simply what needed to keep it alive.

Though the inside – a whole different world. A strange beauty lingers with that place, laced with so many unique stories. Separated rooms for various friend groups, each looking cosy and modern. In contrast with the exterior, the inside has always been polished off clean. Cal has created a safe space for children – provided them an atmosphere that puts no pressure on them. Accepted them without judgement.

We're those kids too.

A strange feeling surrounds me as I enter. The smell that causes me nausea, yet brings the feeling of Christmas along attacks my smell buds. But as I near the centre of this maze, I realise why Cal picked this very building. Repellent from the outside, yet so welcoming from the inside. It hides everything he needs for his business to succeed, and at the same time still leaves enough space for kids to feel at home. Any other place wouldn't have enough space for everything to be gathered in just one building. Any other place wouldn't feel right.

I walk straight through the centre, taking the long corridor to Cal's office. On my way I greet only a few people, usually around my age. The number of people I'm acquainted with is becoming unpleasantly low as the years are passing. Walking past a group of boys who cannot be older than thirteen, my eyes land on a perfectly white envelope laying on the table. It brings memories of my first time here, staring at that envelope and thinking the same thoughts. I can see all those emotions in their eyes, and I smile to myself. Their lives are in for an enormous change.

I've seen people come and go. Witnessed their lives change completely. And yet I've never fully tried to understand their reasons for returning here. That's one thing I've always appreciated here – respect no matter your background. A silent collective agreement that unless you want to share your story, no such thing as questions exists. And now, we have, I have, become one of the eldest here. Seen generations swap, kids come, and adults leave. It feels like yesterday when we were getting lectured by all those people who left years ago. And though I've done my best to listen to their words, I feel like I've always done the exact opposite.

I reach the door to Cal's office and hesitate for a second. Never before have I hesitated reaching for that doorknob before.

It crosses my mind I should've dragged Ace's ass along.