shameless

2. white roses (Carter)

I shouldn't accept this. I look at the flower on the table. I shouldn't accept flowers from somebody I'm not close to but maybe it's just a harmless gift?

I just stared at the bouquet in front of me. What does he want from me?

The white roses were stunning with the little daisies wrapped around in white satin-like sheet. With how much small the bouquet, it would be counter intuitive to say it feels expensive. I opened the letter that came with it in great apprehension.

A little reminder of the beauty in simplicity. - V.

Vincent. My heart skipped a beat. All I can think of was his eyes as he lit up a cigarette. He didn't do anything to merit but his entire demeanor felt threatening and dominating.

I reread the letter again and again. Why did he need to send flowers? What were his intentions?

Those simple words were innocent but hold an uneasy weight to it. I recognize the thoughtful gesture but I can't help but feel like my trust is being tested. It feels intrusive.

A distinct kettle sound broke the awkward tension created in the room. I almost forgot the hot water.

I opened the remaining instant noodles and poured the boiling water unto it. I guess this is going to be an early lunch now.

After I finished that business, I dressed and went out. My current living requires me to look for jobs or sidelines just to pay rent on a full stomach.

Countless job positions had I tried to own but remain unsuccessful. Even sidelines and errands proved to be an unsustainable way of extra income.

Maybe tomorrow?

Maybe next time?

Maybe tomorrow again?

Let's wait a bit?

Days turn into multiple weeks of unemployment. I rest on my bed languishingly, unsatisfied with my life.

I became more and more anxious, as if I felt watched. Everything I do, paranoia still lingers. I don't know if it's the failed attempts or the constant coffee. It's probably the coffee that makes me paranoid and unmotivated. And I look at the table.

The wilting flowers that I put into a makeshift vase decorated the table amidst the countless job application and rejection letters.

Those flowers...

People who are eager to help will always make me cautious and be wary but Vincent's occasional gifts and messages have never failed to give me a sense of hope. It feels so conflicting. I was raised to be critical but maybe it's time to listen to my guts.

The Jazz lounge, which Vincent promised of opportunities capable of lifting me off of my feet sounds promising however, a miniscule sense of doubt and apprehension is still reserved in me which was understandable.

My contemplations was shortly ended by a phone call. It was Alex. A friend of mine. The only friend of mine.

"Hey dude!! Any luck on those job applications?" Alex's bright voice still held a twang of serious concern. I could hear it.

I could only sigh with how successfully I had untriumphed.

"It's been a struggle, Alex. I have nowhere else to go." A long silence followed.

"Well there is something else." I continued. "A guy I don't really know who wants me to work with him in this club place. He has been very persistent too. He even... Err, that's for another time."

"Hmm, a guy from a club? That sounds interesting, Carter. What's he like?" Alex said.

"His name is Vincent. He said I had potential when he heard me sing at the Jazz lounge down the street. He said-" I said but got cut off mid sentence.

"Wait wait wait. Vincent? Jazz Lounge? Do you mean Vincent Vanderbilt?! The owner of the Vanderbilt's Gold Lounge?!" Alex was audibly shocked. His voice became louder.

"What do you mean owner? You know him?" I asked confusingly. These informations just got into my head without warning.

"Carter. Who you may have talked to was Vincent Vanderbilt, the owner of a jazz club here in Hempstead." Alex said. "This guy has a reputation."

"What do you mean reputation?" I asked.

"This guy is dangerous. He has a reputation of being sociopathic and careless of others as long as he gets what he wants. This guy has been the reason for many bad things that happened in this city. He just gets away from it because he got connections." Alex said. After internalizing what he said, he tried to piece everything so far.

He did seem suspicious at first too. But the flowers and messages he has received has been nothing but candy, so sweet it could attract ants. Part of me wants to believe that someone sees my potential and nothing else. Right now, that is the thing in my mind.

"But he seems really interested in helping me, Alex. He said he saw potential in me and that I should work with him and he even sent me flowers and sweet messages this few weeks." I said. These words really helped me feel grounded to reality with hope.

"Gifts and compliments can be part of his game, Carter. Just because he's charming doesn't mean he's genuine. You've got to watch yourself around him." Alex warned me.

"I appreciate your concern, but I think you might be jumping to conclusions. Vincent seems like a straight shooter to me." I reassured. Maybe it's time to drop these apprehensions and be open.

"Just... keep your guard up, okay?" Alex said. I agreed. What a nice friend.

"Thanks for looking out for me, Alex. I've got some things I need to take care of, so I'll catch you later, okay?" I said. After he responded, I ended the call.

Just who is this guy?