Mantis

29. Victor's second face

Victor sat against the wall as far from the railing as possible, staring ahead motionlessly. He had already gotten rid of his elegant suit and was now wearing only sweatpants and a jacket thrown over his bare shoulders, holding a barely lit cigarette glowing red in his hand. It wasn't his first, as there were several cigarette butts lying beside him that hadn't been there earlier when we were drinking champagne. There was also an opened bottle of whiskey next to him.

– You're not sleeping – I stated the obvious, looking down at him.

Victor glanced around and then looked up at me with a hazy gaze. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, gave me a faint smile, and shook his head. He took another cigarette from the pack lying beside him and mindlessly placed it in his mouth.

– Are you smoking two at once? – I asked.

Victor looked at his hand, holding the unlit cigarette, then grabbed the glowing one from his mouth and groaned heavily. He put the untouched cigarette back into the pack, then looked up at me with the gaze of a wild animal trapped in a cage.

– Is everything okay? – I asked, watching his slightly trembling hand intently.

Victor didn't answer immediately; he took a deep drag of smoke into his lungs, then exhaled, and only then did his hands stop shaking worryingly, though his voice remained weak.

– It all just overwhelms me a bit – he said with an apologetic smile and took another drag.

– What is it? – I asked gently, as if talking to a frightened child.

I didn't understand his behavior. He got everything he came here for, and more. That should be good. He should be happy. Working with Perez meant an end to his problems. What else was weighing him down?

– This... – Victor made a sweeping gesture with his hand – world. These people here. The way they talk, the way they move, look. I feel like they even breathe differently than I do. And I'm not like them. I lived for fifteen years in a two-room apartment in a block, drank the cheapest vodka with my buddies, and ate reheated pierogi for dinner with a fork without a knife. I learned English two years ago, and I've been abroad maybe four times. I don't fit in with them at all.

I looked down at Victor, curled up against the wall, and felt terribly sorry for him. He had always known what he wanted and how to get it, and now...

– You can learn anything – I said, trying to lift his spirits. – It's just a matter of time.

Victor gave me a crooked smile and looked at me with bright eyes, already showing the effects of the whiskey.

– But how much time? – he muttered in a tone devoid of any hope, then grew even more despondent, before looking up at me with eyes blazing. – Paulina, you can do it. You're like them – he said, fixing me with a gaze full of new hope. – Will you stay with me? Tell me you will – he pressed, burning me with his fevered look. – I'll give you everything you want. I see that you're someone important to them, even if you don't want to admit it. I don't know why, but you are. You won't leave me to deal with this alone, will you? I almost lost everything I worked for once. I don't want to lose it again. I can't.

I looked into his chocolate eyes, where panic mingled with hope. How could I refuse him? In an instant, the bloodthirsty beast had turned into a poor, hunted animal so desperate it was begging for help from me. A small, weak woman who had no clue about his business dealings and certainly no magical influence over Perez, although he might have thought otherwise. Poor, little Victor...

– I won't leave you – I assured him with a kind smile.

Victor immediately jumped to his feet, but his eyes held neither relief nor gratitude. There was still a wild anxiety lurking there.