Mantis

46. Paula's sad story

I stood in front of Victor's apartment door and took a deep breath. Neither I nor the little creature considered this idea particularly good, but I had to talk to him. I had no idea why, but I had to see him immediately and hear that he wouldn't disappear from my life for another six years or, worse yet, forever. Certainly not because of some damn Pilot.

I intended to stand in front of his door until I succeeded, but it turned out to be unnecessary because Victor opened it almost immediately.

– What are you doing here? – he grumbled, barely giving me a glance, his body blocking the entrance to the apartment.

I took a breath, gathering strength to say something to him because seeing him suddenly caused complete chaos in my head.

– I wanted to talk to you – I stammered, slowly collecting my thoughts and ignoring his malicious tone. – And I canceled the meeting.

That was naturally a lie because, in the heat of searching for Victor, I had simply forgotten about the meeting with Alex, and he was probably still waiting for me, but I intended to fix that as soon as possible. I wasn't in the mood anyway, and in the current situation, I wouldn't be able to focus on anything until I heard that Victor wouldn't leave me.

– Am I supposed to give you a medal for that? – he spat venomously.

I ignored his spite again. It wasn't easy, but I preferred not to add fuel to the fire.

– Can I come in? – I asked instead.

Victor gave me a reluctant look, then graciously stepped aside and let me pass, but he did it with such a face that I almost ran away. He turned to close the door, and I quickly sent a message to Alex that we couldn't meet and needed to reschedule, then silenced my phone so no one would disturb us today.

– Are you mad at me? – I asked when he turned back to me.

– What do you think? – he growled and walked past me to the kitchen.

He poured whiskey into an empty glass on the counter, then slumped onto the couch and took a big gulp.

I glanced at the kitchen counter and the mostly empty bottle, then at Victor. Only now did I notice he was slightly tipsy. He certainly hadn't drunk all that whiskey today because yesterday I had contributed to significantly depleting the bottle's contents, but he had drunk enough for me to notice. On the table in front of him lay an ashtray full of cigarette butts, which, combined with the strong smell of tobacco smoke in the air, only confirmed my suspicions that he had smoked more than usual.

– I understand this may seem a bit strange to you, but it's more complicated than you think – I began, stepping closer to him.

– And how can you know what I think? – Victor shot me an angry look. – Besides, I probably don't think anything anymore. You're so messed up that no normal person can comprehend what's going on in your head. If you want a drink, you come to me. If you want to screw, you come to me, but he's more important? Why? Because he doesn't want to fuck you when he looks at you? Any normal guy would want to, but that doesn't mean he treats you like an object. Can you imagine that someone might care about you as a whole person and doesn't have to pretend to be a saint...?

– Is it about him? – I asked, although it was obvious.

– Who the fuck else? – he barked angrily and took another big gulp from the glass. – You choose him, even though you spend more time with me, and when we're together, you don't even mention him anymore. You jumped on my dick yesterday, and the next day I find out that... – He trailed off and gave me a look where anger mixed with reproach. – Anyway, why am I even bothering? You have your loyal dog who always waits for you. And what do you need me for? Are you afraid the Pilot won't fulfill your sexual needs? Or maybe you're checking if you're still good at turning guys on, like you enjoy?