#1 | The Aftermath - Phantom Rider Series

#16 | My Favorite Color

Bill stumbled outside the club, the morning sun beginning to rise over the city. His head pounded from the alcohol, and he fumbled in his pocket for his wallet to call a car home. Everyone else was already gone. Instead, a package of condoms fell out, and a sudden realization struck him.

"Shit!" he muttered to himself, alone on the street. "I never slip up like that. I always use protection. You never know what diseases those filthy bitches might have."

"Did she..." Bill's thoughts raced. "Damn it, how stupid am I? Was she manipulating me? What do I even know about her? Absolutely nothing!" Anger simmered as he paced in frustration, feeling like a complete idiot.

He had to find her.

He didn't have to look too long. Mila sat alone on a bench, a cigarette between her fingers. Almost like that time she passed out, only this time she was very well aware of her surroundings. She looked up as he approached, surprise in her eyes. She seemed so different from the woman he'd shared an intense night with just hours ago, looking pure and naive.

"Can we talk?" he began, his voice surprisingly gentle.

She nodded, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

Bill sat down beside her, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Last night... I don't usually lose control like that. I always use protection, but I didn't with you. I need to know if you... if you did that on purpose."

Mila's eyes widened in shock. "What? No, I would never do that. I'm on the pill and healthy. You don't have to worry about that. Do I have to worry about you? You have quite a reputation here..."

Relief washed over him, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He chose to believe her without any proof.

"Well, I am not on the pill," he joked sarcastically, "but don't worry, you won't get any illness from me."

They sat in silence for a moment, the awkwardness slowly melting away. "It's a nice morning," Mila said, glancing up at the sky.

"Yeah," Bill replied, looking at the rising sun. "It is."

He offered her another cigarette, and they both lit up, easing the tension between them even more. "You have an accent," Mila said, a small smile playing on her lips. "German, right?"

Bill chuckled. "Yeah, and yours - Russian?"

"Sort of," she replied. "I grew up there but haven't been back in a long time."

"That's funny," he said, raising his eyebrow. "Two foreigners fighting over Tokyo."

Mila laughed, a genuine sound that made Bill's chest feel lighter. "It is pretty ridiculous when you think about it."

They talked for a while, sharing small details about their lives. He told her about his brother, the pain of losing him still raw despite the year and a half that had passed. "He was my best friend," he said quietly. "Losing him... it changed everything."

Mila placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle. "I'm sorry. That must have been really hard." Guilt ran through every cell of her body, pretending she didn't know about Tom, but she tried to keep this moment for herself.

He nodded, appreciating her empathy. "Yeah, it was. But I am learning to live with it."

"I also lost someone..." Mila shocked herself with such honesty. "My mom also died from suicide."

"Why the fuck did I tell him that?" she thought to herself. 

"So we might be more similar than we think?" Bill looked into Mila's blue eyes reflecting the sun.

"Can we change the subject to something more simple?" she asked.

"Of course! What's your favorite food?" Bill asked, genuinely curious.

"Rice," she replied without hesitation. "I know, typical for Tokyo, right?"

Bill grinned. "Seriously - rice?"

She burst out laughing. "Of course it's not rice, silly! It's sushi."

"So, rice it is!" he laughed loudly, his voice melodic.

"What's your favorite color?" Mila moved to another silly question.

"Orange," he replied.

"Stop, you are lying, I haven't seen that color near you ever." She laughed.

"Yours?" he avoided answering if orange was a lie.

"Purple," Mila said, smiling widely at him.

"I like purple too," Bill nodded.

They continued talking as the morning wore on, their conversation flowing effortlessly. They shared stories, jokes, and bits of their lives, finding common interests and a surprising amount of comfort in each other's company. They felt an ease. 

Bill looked over at Mila. "This was nice," he said. "I didn't expect to actually enjoy talking to you."

She turned to him, a teasing glint in her eye. "Did you really think I would ruin my beautiful body by having a baby from you?" She laughed, the sound light and carefree.

Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess not. But hey, I had to ask."

He realized then that their sense of humor matched perfectly. It was refreshing and unexpected. The hours slipped by unnoticed.

"Shit, I have to go home! It's the middle of the day already," a sobered-up Mila realized that she had just made a huge mistake.

"Oh... right. That ring on your finger," his words made her shrug a little. "Don't worry, I won't do anything. He will never know if that's the problem," Bill assured her. "But aren't you a bit too young to be married? Must be true love then?" he teased her, but she was not in a good mood anymore.

"Sorry, I really have to go. Forget about this night -  it was a huge mistake," she ran off.

He looked at her. She did awaken an instinct for the chase in him, but he didn't want to ruin the serene moment they just shared, so he just watched as she disappeared beyond the horizon.