deal - cl16

part four

Charles doesn't make a sound, but the way his slender fingers clench around the worn steering wheel, he doesn't have to. His knuckles stand out white - surely deep imprints of his rings have already bored into the gray leather - and he clenches his jaw.

Whoever called him has chased away the empathetic, gentle Charles you've come to know in little more than twelve hours and who, in your limited opinion, doesn't deserve to feel that way. The person sitting on the driver's side of your car stares at the road in front of you with an icy stare. His movements to steer the car are skillful but stiff like a doll's, and his breathing is so shallow it looks like he's stopped altogether. He even turned off the radio after a few meters, so there's nothing between you but this strange silence.

Most of all you would like to comfort him, support him, do something to cheer him up, but Charles won't let you see his cards. You don't know if he wants to, if he's even the type to be comforted or distracted. All you know is that the phone call has driven away his good, playful mood. His expression is blank, emotionless, and you don't know what to do - if you should do anything - which is why you just sit quietly next to him.

You're immensely grateful that Charles has shown you his secret place and tried to cheer you up. And you would only too gladly return this kind gesture. But you don't. You don't want to drive his mood even lower with a pitiful attempt. You sit silently next to him, making yourself very small so that he doesn't notice you.

Charles steers the car after some time through a narrow alley into a backyard, where it comes to a stop in a marked parking space. He turns off the engine, takes the key out of the ignition, and gets out without a word.

Briefly, you're unsure whether to follow him - after all, you can't assess what he needs and wants right now - but when he stops at the hood and takes a quick glance back, you exhale in relief. Apparently he hasn't forgotten that you're still there, too.

You follow him, and when you stop at a large wooden door, he places his ringed index finger on a bell with the name "Trouche" written on it. For a brief moment you wait and nervously you tap from one foot to the other, not knowing what is waiting for you behind the door, while Charles stands beside you like a statue. Out of the corner of your eye, you eye him inconspicuously.

His jaw is clenched and at his neck his vein is pulsating slightly and he hasn't stopped breathing, which of course pleases you very much. But his gaze is fixed on the door, he doesn't even seem to blink.

The call seems to have thrown him very much off course.

A muffled whirring sounds and your roommate pushes the door open.

The hallway of the house where Joris lives isn't particularly wide, so Charles climbs the stairs ahead of you. His hands hang down by his sides, but with his thumbs he tries to turn the rings on his fingers. A nervous habit? Or a coping mechanism for stress? Whatever it is, it's the only thing that makes him human right now.

You look down at your feet to keep from tripping, and nearly slam into him when he stops abruptly in front of an apartment door. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Then he knocks on the door.

"Joris, good to see you," Charles says cheerfully as his buddy opens the door. His voice is bright and friendly, the complete opposite of what you just witnessed on the drive. "Can we come in?"

While Joris, who doesn't seem at all surprised that you two are suddenly standing in front of his door, takes a step aside so you can enter, you can't take your eyes off Charles. What the hell is he doing? Why is he suddenly acting so differently? How does he manage to change his mood like that from one second to the next? Faking his good mood? Does he perhaps have multiple personalities? Or has he put the call behind him and doesn't want to think about it anymore?