I'll Track You Down

The Hangover

The next morning I wake up with my head pounding, I curse to myself vowing to never drink again. I don't even know why our agency keeps liquor in the office. Everything comes flooding back, how could I just give my name and address to a random person? If I wanted to, I could find this man, I have security cameras all around my house inside it as well. I weigh the option but decide against it. I have more important things to be doing.

Between my pounding headache and my hourly vomiting I call in sick to Decker, and he doesn't give it a second thought. I know my car is still in the parking lot and Decker might wonder why it's still there, if he does I can just answer honestly. I realize I'm still dressed in the same clothes as last night, so I go and change into something more comfortable. I twist my hair into a high ponytail and decide

I'm in need of some fresh air. I put on a subtle amount of makeup, just enough so passersby don't see the raging bags under my eyes. I step outside, and let the sun dance on my skin, it's towards the end of summer and I'm happy to soak up our few remaining weeks before the weather turns cooler. Does that man like warm weather? Why am I thinking of him? I don't even know his name! I've had relationships before, but I've never felt quite as attached to them as they did to me. It's always been difficult for me to feel all kinds of strong emotions, the only one I'm very well acquainted with is anger.

It's not like I can't like, or respect someone, or that I can't become flirtatious or saddened, it's just much less common and harder. I walk around my block and step inside my favorite coffee shop, the only thing I love more than the thrill of solving a case, is an illegal amount of caffeine. Right, the case. It can wait, it's not as if I'm close to figuring out who Malgrave is, much less eliminating him. But I've no doubt if I slack off or don't devote myself to this case, there is no way I'll learn anything new-no more distractions, and no more drinking. Once this is all over I might finally be able to work on my own cases, like finding my family. I've been working on my background ever since I became a part of the agency, and although I'm a skilled detective I haven't found anything at all.

Nothing.

It's not like the Malgrave case, where everything is a setup. I just haven't found anything. I've looked into who registered me in the orphanage, nothing. No false name, no description, according to the orphanage I was just dropped off one day. I was only a few months old. 

Abandoned.

Or perhaps not, I can't make empty accusations, and even if it is true, I have no way of knowing the circumstances my family was facing. I have to keep an open mind. I move with the line, taking a small step. I pull out my phone, No New Messages. As usual. If you can't tell I'm not the most social person, the only person I've really interacted with for a long period of time is my best friend Nye. I met her at the orphanage, she got adopted when we were around ten, and I've been in contact with her ever since. I'm not even sure if she thinks of me as her best friend because Nye is one of the most social people I've ever met. She gets invited to nearly every party, and gathering.

But I'm not envious of Nye, I'd much rather be at home or work, than talking to people.
The thing about Nye is she's also very loyal. She's covered for me countless times, and she also lets me confide in her when I'm struggling. I'm not sure if it's pity or kindness, but Nye has always been there for me, so I think it's my job to tell her about last night. I give her just enough detail so she knows the gist but not enough for her to dismiss it. She says she'll be over in an hour.

Nye doesn't know exactly what I do for work, although she doesn't exactly care. Nye's a waitress at a very popular diner a couple minutes away from my house, she's a highschool dropout and she doesn't make tons of money but she's happy. She's got a loving boyfriend, loving parents, and loving siblings who always run the extra mile for her. I'd trade her life with mine in a heartbeat. I shake my head, I'm comfortable with who I am, I'm just a little lonely sometimes, and there's no denying it. I feel alone most of my life, and it's hard for me to make attachments but Nye has always been understanding and welcoming, so it's never hard with her.

"Ms?" I look up from my phone. "Your order?"

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," I say flustered, "can I get a medium black coffee?"

"Do you want sugar in that?" He asks.

"No thank you." I replied.

"Creamer?" He asks expectantly.

"Nope, just plain black coffee." It's been my go-to for years now, staying up late in my office. I've never really preferred the sweeter version of things when the bitter one will get it done just as well.

"Caffeine addict," He teases.

"I'll have you know it's not an addiction." I say playing along, "It's just that I need it or else I can't get anything done." He laughs again,

"Man, you're funny." He says through another laugh.

"Don't worry it's just until my head clears from this damn hangover, and I'll go back to being boring." He smiles, not an Oscar smile, it's still pretty just not as pretty as-get over it Kalisa! You were drunk!

"I'm Apollo."

"Kalisa." I say.

"Can I get your number?" Apollo asks, shaking his wavy brown hair out of his cappuccino colored face.

"For the order?" I ask. "Sure it's-

"No, for you? You don't have a boyfriend do you?" He says, flashing another smile.

"I-I don't." I feel my cheeks go red, my god. I'm an assassin. Why does socializing with random people make me feel uncomfortable? Should I give him my number? It's what Nye would do, maybe it's time to balance my work life with my social life, this could very much be a window into that path.

"Good." I hand Apollo my phone and he types his number in without a second thought, maybe it's time to focus on myself, he's an attractive guy, my age, there's nothing wrong with me calling or texting him. He hands me my coffee and winks as I walk out. I pull my hair out of my ponytail and begin my walk home when I feel a buzzing in my pocket. I check my phone to see an unknown number, I dismiss it as spam but when I open the message I almost spit out my coffee.

Unknown: Black coffee, noted.

I look around quickly, maybe it's a wrong number-but that's not a coincidence.

Unknown: Twirl all you want, you won't see me.

I scoff, is this supposed to scare me?  I'm an assassin, and a detective, I could find this person in an hour tops if I wanted to. I also know that it's pointless to respond, either the person texting me will know I'm receiving the texts and keep trying to target me, or it's a pointless AI program. I walk home in long confident strides, I laugh to myself, this is all kind of funny. I reach my front door and step inside, I'm ready to do what I do best, stalking people! I've done this so many times before so I expect it to be easy and quick, but after thirty minutes of having a staring contest with my screen for the fifth time and losing, I give up. I breathe a huge sigh of annoyance, there is nothing that matches this person, I've even looked at my agency's intelligence software, and still, nothing.