Manic [h.s]

#010

"Arabella's got some interstellar gator skin boots,

And a Helter Skelter 'round her little finger, and I ride it endlessly"

Arabella | Arctic Monkeys

January 26, 1999

IRIS XANDER

The clashing of the steel wheels against the railway tracks echoes through the interior of the train. The lights of the ceiling are turned on, giving the atmosphere full of vivid, opaque and enticing colours.

I sit by a hollow seat, a man of age around forty is seated opposite to me while he shifts in his seat every now and then. He reeks of beer and smoke, his dark eyes drooping and slouched.

We're the only two people in the train as it keeps on moving, the rail slightly rocking to the side. I keep my gaze fixed on the newspaper in my hands. The paper crumples beneath my hold as I re-read the headline on the front page.

Clarksville's betting house subjected to theft: Where did the stolen $9 million go?

A photograph is attached beneath the words. The picture was likely taken by freezing a clip recorded by the security cameras, making it appear almost blurry. And in the black and white picture is a man. He's wearing a black shirt and jeans, a bandana tied to the back of his head, covering his face like a mask. If one would look closer, they might catch a glimpse of the tiny tattoos on his jawline.

'Where did the stolen $9 million go?' I know exactly where the money is. And I'm heading straight to the lion's den.

The train slows down, reaching the station downtown already. I look through the long window, watching the train leave the tunnel before entering the underground subway. Moments later it comes to a stop with a chime. The doors perched beside my seat slide open and I get, heading toward the exit.

The station is relatively less crowded as the people standing by the platform walk past me to get inside the train. I leave them all behind as I head to the narrow set of staircases that leads upstairs. I take two steps at a time and within seconds I exit the underground subway and step into the busy town street, the evening light illuminating it.

People are walking past me, probably heading off home after work since it's almost five in the evening while the loud honks of the vehicles on the road and the roaring of their engines are to be heard aloud.

I slightly shiver when a gush of wind blows across me, brushing my skin. January in Nashville is cold's freezing breath, mixed with the sweet smell of snowdrops. The novel feeling gets to you, even though it's slightly colder.

I take a left, stepping into one of the comparatively less crowded parts of the city. I clutch the newspaper in one hand as I eye the hotels, stores and high-rise buildings that line the streets.

A very familiar street steps into my view, busy just like how I remember it was the last time when I was here. Finally, I slow my brisk space when a banner protruding above a building grabs my attention.

'Arrow club' the sign reads, the building at first glance is identical to many others along the street.

It's been over a month since Niall and I got dragged to this place. If someone had told me that I'll be voluntarily re-visiting, I would've laughed in their face. I know I'll never forgive myself for coming back, and Niall sure as hell won't either. He's not gonna be thrilled when I tell him about paying this place a visit and what I'm about to do next.