Black Angel

Chapter Two

Derrick

    "Bro come on. It'll be fun. For fuck's sake, you didn't leave the house in days!" Brody, my best friend, called to get me out of this house. Well, more like just to get me do anything. Since I lost my father and sister due to a car accident five days ago, life has just stopped. It's like the world stopped turning one more time. The first time it seemed like this was when my mother died of cancer ten years ago. When I was just twenty-one years old.
    "Nahh, bro. I'm good. Go have some fun, I dunno maybe get laid." I shrugged. I even wanted to go out again. Well, at least a bit. But it felt like I was getting over everything that had happened too fast. Especially since the bastard who broke the brakes of my father's car couldn't be find anywhere. My father just collected my little sister Daisy from a sleepover at her friend's house.
    "Bro, I know how you're feeling. You've witnessed my misery yourself. But if we just stop living and start surviving only, while there's still a chance for us to achieve our dreams and make our families up there proud, wouldn't that be the most stupid thing we could do? I know how hard it is to go on, D. But if we don't even try to move on and regain our composure, well, that would be just pathetic." I've only heard Brody that serious once. When his parents died due to a house fire eight years ago back in London. He didn't have any siblings and now his only remaining family is me and the boys (our friends), as he told me back then, after he moved to the States. For real, I wondered how he managed everything without anyone's help since he didn't talk to his uncle Jacob, his mother's brother.
   I considered what he was saying. I didn't even leave to go grocery shopping and even skipped my gym sessions and did some exercises at home in my indoor gym instead. I wasn't rich but not poor either so I could afford an indoor gym, thanks to my previous boxing career, which I dropped a few years ago. One look in the mirror and I couldn't even recognize the man I was staring at. The stubble on my jaw grew and instead of the clean day-old-beard I was always carrying, this one looked like ants could go missing in there. Thanks to Mother Nature I had a great growth of facial hair, so that is happening quite fast.
    He was right.
    It sucked, but Brody was fucking right.
    I couldn't just go back to where I was when mom died. I left that hole and those people in my past and it was damn hard coming out. A shudder went down my spine at the memory of my past. "Fine. What time and where am I expected?" I let out a sigh and rubbed my temples. In return, I heard a sigh at the end of the line too and then he spoke again. "Eleven pm, Dejá-vu lounge. We won't be partying any time soon again. Just having some good time and a smoke at a shisha bar with some friends."
    "Who are you talking about? Who else did you invite exactly?"
    There was curiousness and a tad annoyance in my voice and I didn't bother hide the annoyance. If that bastard dares bringing Henry... "You know: Aaron, Mark and Julio." Oh, hell nahhh... not Julio... He might be better than Henry but still, and Henry's story is one to tell another time. I sighed and after we agreed on the time, place and – I by force – the people joining, we hung up. You'll understand why I agreed on especially one person by force and I think you already know who I'm talking about.
    I went upstairs to the bathroom to take a shower, but before I went in, I took another look in the mirror. "What the fuck have you become?" I murmured to myself. Shaking those depressing thoughts out of my head, I started shaving my beard back in its clean looking stubble-form. I turned the faucet on and didn't even wait till the water temperature was satisfying. I just let the first ice-cold splash of water hit my head to clean my nerves. Fuck, I needed that shit. When I set the faucet to a satisfying temperature, I started to shower properly, my tattoos shining under the water.

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    "Okay, I'll be there in ten." I said as I hung up. God, I really don't fucking want to go.
    One last check in the mirror: hair as unbothered as always in short strands near to a buzzcut, stubble trimmed, black jeans, white t-shirt, black jean jacket, white Nike AirForce 1's with a black logo and most important: my rings. After spritzing some perfume on – my favorite one: Tom Ford Oud Wood – I grabbed my keys and helmet, locked the door and put on my helmet – which thank God didn't hurt with my glasses – and got on my baby I hadn't seen for the past five days where I didn't leave the house. My BMW S1000RR. One of the most beautiful bikes I have ever seen. It looked so small next to my Audi RS7 but was still a beast which only waited to be free again.
    Nevertheless, I made it there in five minutes. I got off and took my helmet off too, leaning at my bike and waiting for the others to arrive. I pulled out my phone and was about to call Brody when I heard the familiar roar of his BMW M5 competition. I expected only him exiting his car, but as I see he collected the guys too.
    After greeting everyone with the typical guy-greeting – a clap and half hug-thing – we went in the bar. Smoke and varieties of smells – from fruity to minty – lingered in the air, the decorative plastic trees looking in the dimmed lights like a forest buried in fog. I didn't have anxiety, but the sight of this packed place made bile rise in my throat, the loud music doing no good to my rising headache. A look around and I saw some dark curls entering the ladies' room and disappearing behind the door. I felt something like a swooosh in my chest and coughed to ease the feeling but in vain, so I decided not to focus on that.
    We looked for an empty table and saw only one. It faced the entrance directly and on the either side of the spot were more tables, each with a shisha on it. At the left table was a beautiful woman sitting, her brown – and I think a bit blonde? – hair lay in waves on her back as she was bending forth to take her drink and sip from it. I didn't take her appearance in more. For one instance so that she doesn't get uncomfortable and for another because Brody was eyeing her like hell. Yup, he was turned on after seeing her bent over. Horny little shit.
    "Excuse me, is this spot empty?" I asked, keeping my voice polite. "Yup." She answered and we sat down. Next to me was a beige colored purse, so I assumed there would be another person sitting at least. "But there will be one more person sitting in here, just so you know." She added. Like I expected. "Of course, of course. No problem." I said simply. An employee came – it sounded wrong to call them waiter – and took our order. The guys ordered to their shisha each a cocktail while I sticked to water. I didn't drink alcohol, but I also wasn't in the mood for anything sweet.
    Until she came. She wasn't like all the other women in here. I could sense and also tell it from the way my insides began burning. I didn't know what that was, but I guess I liked that feeling and I don't know why actually. It was different from everything I have felt in my entire life.
    She wasn't the skinny type of women, but her beauty still was shining and dimmed all those already dimmed lights till there was nothing but darkness where the only source of light was her. A black leggings hugged her curves perfectly, combined with a light-bronze – well, nearly orange – colored blouse and the same Nike AirForce 1's as I wore. Those dark curls. The same dark curls I saw entering the ladies' room some time ago. She was a bit chubby, but it didn't affect how those big cheeks were just so cute. I doubted she saw how beautiful she was as her gaze was cast down all the way.
    When I was in my teenage years, I was the chubby guy no one liked just because he was chubby. I never saw myself like the handsome little man how mother called me. That's why I certainly could relate.
    The girl came near us and spoke. "Excuse me, may I?" She asked, her voice low but confident. That voice. Wow. It sounded delicious like freshly baked brownies tasted. She didn't look me in the face as I made just enough space so she could pass. I knew that I could've, and probably should've, made more space for her as I saw her struggling not to stumble and fall, but I couldn't help. Especially after her scent filled my nostrils.
    She smelled like vanilla and flowers.
   I didn't know someone can be addicted to a smell that fast, but I knew I needed that smell in my life for good to calm down my nerves every time I'm upset and to regain composure after a possible breaking down again.
    I was a man, yes. Undoubted. But in contrast to the most – but not all – men, I not only experienced the feelings of something painful, I lived that feelings and moments which caused the feelings until they burnt me down and the only thing left of me was ashes. And I felt like this girl sitting next to me could change that for good. She seemed so innocent, even as she inhaled the shisha and let that deathly smoke glide through her lungs until she got caught in a coughing attack.
    She's feeling the tension too. My inner thoughts caught sight of her state and the blush on her cheeks and didn't hesitate in talking bullshit. Shut the fuck up. She didn't even look him in the face. My other inner thoughts spoke back, and my headache only intensified.
    God, have mercy with this head of mine and take that ache away.
    I turned my head to the boys, but my mind was stuck with that girl next to me, because in the meantime she – I'll call her Ms. Curlyhead for now – was coughing, the girl with the brown-blonde waves, which I assumed was her friend, stood and sat down in the chair which was on the opposite side of Ms. Curlyhead. They were facing each other now and Ms. Curlyhead's friend smirked while typing something in her phone. I side eyed them a little and saw that the friend was eyeing me and her before typing another thing in her phone. A second later Ms. Curlyhead's phone ping-ed and I realized the friend was texting to her.
    I tried to sneak a glance over her phone and the only thing I saw was a text from someone named Macy. I assumed that was the friend sitting in front of her. But what was her name? I asked myself. I carefully continued side eyeing the phone – yup, she was that close to me – and then I saw a text. From her. In capital letters.
    A MOTHERFUCKING BEAT MACY.
    I had to read the rest, so I looked a tad more interested and saw a message that said "As I sat down and scooped in front of him my heart skipped a beat. A MOTHERFUCKING BEAT MACY".
    Okay head of mine, now you can go all optimistic. So, she felt it too. Okay. Good to know, I guess. But I still don't know her name, what would that cha-
    I stopped mid-thought as I saw it. Her name. Macy wrote a message which said "Congratulations Zola, you're fucked." The rest of the sentence wasn't important.
    Zola.
    Her name was just as beautiful as her. Just as I was thinking about whether I should talk to her or not, an employee came and told them they could move to a different table now. The fuck? He took the shisha, and the girls took their drinks, but Zola not only took her drink. She also took something from my chest with her.
    "Woooahhhh, HEEEYYYYY!!! Earth to Derrick!!!" Julio waved a hand in front of my face to catch my attention. I hadn't realized I was still staring when they walked away. My right side suddenly felt so cold and empty. "Jesus! What?" I growled. I was pissed. For one because Zola was gone and for another because Julio was a pain in my ass. Since high school that bastard didn't change, always so annoyingly loud and when something didn't go his way, he'd just sit there and act all sulky like a little child.
    "Bro are you okay? We were calling for you several times now." Aaron added and Mark clasped a hand on my shoulder, saying "I'm glad you made it out of the house today. I'm proud of you." Julio was the dickhead in our group, Brody and I usually the fucked-up heads and Aaron and Mark were always the ones in a healthy relationship with God and the world. Well, they were no saints by any means, but they were the calmest.
    I remember quite well: one time, it was two years ago, I had a fight – when I was a boxer – and I was nearly killing my opponent because I once again lost control. Old memories were kicking in and all I could see that time was black. Had Mark and Aaron not been there, pulling me back, I could've killed my opponent.
    That was when I decided to take a break. Not only from boxing, but also from being around people who could piss me off so much that I could lose control and fuck up everything I lived for.
    Daisy needs you. Your baby sister needs you, even if she's sixteen by now. You can't go to jail. Get it together. You'll only harm her and everyone who's caring for you.
    That were the thoughts holding me back all the time. What if I lose my shit someday again? Now that she's gone there won't be anybody who could need me. There was no reason I would stop for and no one who would be waiting for me to come back home safe and sound. I was her brother for fuck's sake. Yet I couldn't protect her.
    I couldn't protect mom.
    I couldn't protect dad.
    I couldn't protect Daisy.
    "Drifting in memories again?" Brody asked from the opposite side of the table, pulling me out of the hole I intend to fall over and over again. I simply nodded and took a sip of water. "I'll go splash some cold water on my face." I said as I stood. I walked towards the mens' room.
    My chest made that swooooshh from earlier again and I looked around, only to see those beautiful dark curls again and all disturbing thoughts suddenly faded. I saw Macy tap Zola's arm enthusiastically and telling her something. She turned to face me, but I think she didn't notice I was staring a second longer than necessary because she turned her head right back with her cheeks being a bit flushed.
    I went to the sink in the mens' room as I intended to and splashed ice-cold water on my face after taking my glasses off. Get it together dammit! I forced myself to breathe properly because my breathing had escalated once again. Was it a mistake to come here? To leave the house? Was I even ready to go in a crowd again? I didn't know that. What I did know was that I had to leave this place as soon as possible. But a pang in my chest reminded me of something – someone. Zola.
    I wanted her. I knew this crystal clear. But I know I shouldn't. She seems so innocent, so pure. She deserves much better than me. I would only drag her in my misery and darkness would gather her. I couldn't let this happen. And I won't.
    I dried my face with a paper towel and tossed it in the trash after. As I walked out, I stole a last glance in her direction, only to be met with her back and Macy eyeing the table to their left. I followed her gaze and saw three guys staring at them with hungry eyes. I stood there and waited until their gazes swept over to me. When they caught my dark gaze and my tight jaw, they visibly shuddered and turned their faces from the girls away. Nobody touches what's mine. Even if it's with their eyes.
    Macy blinked and looked at me with a thank you-typa smile. I nodded and went back to our table. I didn't even sit down, I just said "Guys I'm leaving. Thanks for the invitation."
    I dropped fifty dollars at the table and was already out of the place. I was just taking my jacket off when Brody came behind me and said something that made me stop in my tracks.
   "Is it because what happened two years ago? Did you remember that again?" His voice was stern and even, but still full of concern. My jaw tightened even more. "Just some memories. Go back in there and have fun, Brody. I'll be fine." With nothing more to be said, I put my jacket and helmet back on, got on my bike and pulled out of the parking lot.
    Although my mind was fucked with those old memories, I knew only the most frequent one would keep me awake all night.
    Zola. I'll have to find at least her socials. I know I have to let go but for one reason I just couldn't. God, I feel like a high school teen.