Double Twenty

Chapter 23 - Spaceman - (Babylon Zoo)

"Each of us is a world, composed of many stars and an infinite number of particles." — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Without a glance at the line of club-goers gathered at the entrance, Matthieu slips behind the red rope, climbs the few steps separating him from the sanctum of the night, greets the bouncer who compliments his suit, shakes hands with the doormen, and casually enters the club. Instinct and reflex. Back in his world. Like a junkie after a fix, he promises himself the escapade will last only the night. Avoid succumbing to the illusions of the party, a cursed dance with the devil, wings drowned in vodka and gin. His black shoes blend into the darkness. He glides through the corridor among the lost souls. One more door to pass to access the VIP area. Vertigo sensation. He wonders how his twenty-year-old self resisted the pressure. Hostile looks. Contempt. Scorn. Yet they still approach him to be seen by his side. King of the artificial night, Matthieu realizes that back then, whatever didn't kill him indeed made him stronger or more indifferent. It was only years later, when he received the final blow, that his armor cracked, relentlessly hammered by disappointed hopes, broken promises, lies, and betrayals.

Wounded deep in his soul and flesh, he had laid down his arms and put his past life behind. He takes a deep breath, makes his way to the railing overlooking the dance floor, ignoring the voices calling out to him, which only makes him more mysterious. Inaccessible. The decibels are pushed to their limits, a sultry mix of infra bass, lights, scents, and smoke. Strobe lights focused on the central octagon. Dance floor for the golden youth. Remix of "Meet Her at the Love Parade" by Da Hool. Effective. It hints at a slight offensive against the "Queen" at the top of the Champs, while staying mainstream and simultaneously more niche than "the Arc" or the "Duplex." Direct competitors. He hasn't gone out for a long time, but the game of the night is timeless and unchanging. The traveler focuses on his goal. Victoria dances (awkwardly but with the excuse of her beauty), in slow motion, twirling her mini skirt to reveal her shapely legs, blonde locks escaping to caress her face, small breasts of Bakelite bouncing in sync with her delicate hands forming arabesques. Plump, slightly parted lips. Closed eyes. Matthieu watches. Fascinated. The DJ does his job, the transition to the next track, "Around the World" by Daft Punk, is impeccable, timed to the millisecond, inviting her to continue this pagan rite, and yet she stops abruptly. Her whole being suddenly bathed in light, illuminates. He doesn't have time to descend the spiral staircase before she grabs the lapels of his jacket, kisses him without restraint, clings to him, pulling him closer. Her mouth brushes his ear with sweet, simple words. "I missed you." "You too." "Can I stay in your arms?" "As long as you want." "Did you see me dance?" "Yes." "How was I?" "Stunning." "Do you know who I was thinking of?" "Us." "How do you know?" "Because I was dancing with you." "But you were far away." "That won't happen again." "We'll say I love you later, for now I want to enjoy you." "Absolutely." They laugh, hand in hand, making their way to the bar. "Thanks for the surprise, the suit, your haircut, I love it, all my friends are jealous, you're so handsome." She kisses his neck. "What do you want to drink?" "I don't know, same as you." "Two gin tonics, please." He reaches for his card, still unsure of the code. "It's on the house, Matthieu." He thanks the bartender, already busy elsewhere. "So, how was your dinner?" "It was almost dreadful, but I left early," his smile contradicts his eyes. "Oh my poor darling." She strokes his face. Prince's "Cream" instantly lifts his mood. He pulls her into a very steamy dance, not typical of '97, which makes Victoria blush despite the dim bar lighting. Music always had that effect on him; without it, who knows where he would be today.

Lurking in the shadows, a young man observes them. Tall, athletic build, long brown hair, blue eyes, tight jeans, Ralph Lauren shirt, a model-like appearance. Driven by the rhythm, he approaches them, exasperating Matthieu. "Hey, having a good time?" Victoria whispers something in his ear and gracefully slips away. "Matthieu, right? Can I talk to you for a moment?" Logic dictates that the experienced traveler should avoid this game, but he doesn't feel like backing down. "If this is about Victoria, let's be clear, she chooses who she wants to be with. As long as it's me, make a wrong move, and I'll break your teeth." "Oh no, not at all. It's not her I'm interested in. Besides, I know her very well, believe me!" The stranger gives him a wide smile. Just what he needed... Matthieu tries to process the information, feeling extremely uneasy, attempts a diplomatic explanation. "You're interested in me? So, I don't really know what that means. Honestly, I'm a strong supporter of the LGBTQ++ cause, don't question my commitment, and I know it's really narrow-minded to be so heteronormative, sorry, but I play for one team. Like, Brokeback Mountain touches me on a narrative level, but I'm not ready to transpose that into reality (especially since the movie hasn't even been released yet). Anyway, there are other people much more open here tonight, you'll find your happiness. Matthieu stifles a slight chuckle, remembering that in just a few weeks, in this very place, Omer will take a step aside with a young ephemeral returnee from Fashion Week. He tried to justify it by explaining that a model was different, but never managed to convince anyone. Anyway, it's super flattering. Thanks, man." Matthieu is about to turn back to join Victoria on the dance floor. In the meantime, he gets reprimanded by a small group of bourgeois he hasn't called back, invitations to an ultra-select party he was supposed to provide. He shrugs and invites them to go fuck themselves. The stranger catches him just in time. "We know you're from the future," he says, visibly annoyed by the turn of events. Matthieu widens his eyes, but there is no panic, only astonishment. He bursts out laughing, "You might not be gay, which I still doubt, but you've taken some pills or some substance. Completely delusional!" Inside, a tidal wave of questions assaults him. His curiosity is immediately tempered by his intuition, which tells him to shut up. Victoria dances, carefree, without a glance at him. Gala - Freed From Desire. "Want more and more, people just want more and more. Freedom and love, what he's looking for." The stranger continues, "I can't explain in detail here how we know and why. In fact, you bear a kind of mark, but it's better to discuss it in a quieter place. Victoria and your father confirmed that..." The handsome guy doesn't have time to finish his sentence. Whiteout. Matthieu pins him against a marble column and grabs his throat. An explosion of confetti and cheers erupts just as the famous "Na-na-na-na-na, na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na" sounds, encouraging the traveler to squeeze a little harder. "Listen to me, you son of a bitch, I've got nothing to say to you. The only mark you'll keep is from my fist in your face." Out of nowhere, Victoria interposes herself between them, pushes Matthieu, who steps back, releasing his adversary, who is doubled over, face reddened from oxygen deprivation, a harsh, rattling cough escaping painfully from his injured trachea. "Everything okay, gentlemen?" Malcolm the bouncer laughs, it's the first time he's seen a fight among the posh. The handsome guy, still staggering, gives a thumbs up. The security guard leans in and whispers to Matthieu, "Next time, do this outside, or leave him to me," and winks before resuming his patrol.

Victoria is furious, shouting over the music. "Are you crazy? You're completely nuts! Why did you attack Lionel? He warned me you might act strange, but this is ridiculous." Matthieu feels the ground slipping from under his feet, as if he's in a nightmare. "What do you mean, Lionel warned you? What are you talking about?" "Do you really think I jumped on you just for your good looks? Lionel works for my parents. One of their companies needs you, I don't know more than that. They asked me to get close to you." Her voice is cold, cutting. Victoria no longer resembles the charming and sweet person she was just minutes ago. "To get close to me?" He glances at Lionel, who still hasn't recovered. Matthieu, hurt and angry, feels reality shattering around him. He clenches his fists, trying to contain his rage. "So all this was a lie? You used me for your parents and their business?" Victoria crosses her arms, trying to maintain an indifferent attitude. "It wasn't a lie. I like you, but I had instructions. Lionel said you would understand. That's why we need to talk. You need to understand what you represent." "What I represent?" Matthieu repeats her words, incredulous. "You think I'm going to follow you and your sidekick for some crazy explanation? You're messing with me!" Victoria sighs, a shadow of regret crossing her face. "Matthieu, listen... Lionel is a Chrono-Liberator. He works for a special organization. They discovered your journey. And now, you're in danger if you don't cooperate." Matthieu steps back, breathing heavily. Every part of him screams to run, but he stands his ground. "Two seconds ago, you said you didn't know anything, now you're threatening me! You're all completely insane." He shakes his head. "I want nothing to do with you, and especially not with you." He's ready to leave, but Victoria grabs his arm. "Matthieu, please... This is important. You need to know your presence here has huge consequences." He yanks his arm away. "You had your chance, Victoria. Now, it's over."

Matthieu walks away, Victoria's words echoing in his mind. He turns and looks her straight in the eyes. "You're right, I'm from the future. I can tell you two things: first, your parents will end up ruined; second, beware of implants, spending half your life disfigured isn't great." Matthieu laughs sardonically. Lionel slowly gets up, approaching Victoria, who looks devastated.

Matthieu exits the club, his thoughts racing. The night air is cool, he breathes deeply, trying to calm himself. His relationship with Victoria is over, which is good, but he must stay vigilant, especially now that he's blurted out nonsense in defiance. His plans have taken a new turn; he must understand what it really means to be a time traveler. And if his mission is to become an angel of chaos? He hails a taxi that stops to take him home. He whistles a song, another anachronism, "The monkeys just left the zoo, Your corpse behind some cones, Blood is thicker than water, Armed like in the days of Clos, The monkeys just left the zoo, 2-7-Z-E-R-O, Back to the future..."