SLAVE // phan au

03

 "My ma's unemployment cheque wouldn't stretch far." He says lazily. "I never looked down, 'cause I was so high all the time."

  "I did catch that reference, you bastard. You were smoking at twelve and your mom didn't know? Have you gotten a brain scan done?" Chloe says. They shake their head at him, their blue bangs shaking. The lip piercing in their lip shines. 

   "Yeah, I did. Wasn't good. Almost got arrested, but hey, it's a story to tell yeah?" Felix sighs. "I wish I kept my girlfriend with me through all of it. She didn't deserve what happened to her." 

  "What happened?" I ask. Felix looks at me, his blue eyes blurred by his tears.

  "She got shot an hour before her birthday. Was gonna be 24, we had a whole party for her waiting. We all were waiting for hours when a cop knocked at our door and said,"

  "'I'm sorry to tell you all this, but your partner has been murdered. May we please come in and discuss?'" Chloe says, suddenly sober. 

  "Yeah. Chlo was there, actually." Felix purses his lips. "Marzia wasn't."

  A scream comes from down the hall and John walks out from the door it came from. He slips his bloodied gloves off and throws them in the trash bin next to every door. There's a mean gash on the side of his neck, it bleeds profusely through his white lab coat. 

  "That man is an animal," John says. I recognize the scream this time as it was from my patient. I get up and my coffee spills over the table. Chloe shoots me a look. I smile at her.

  Time slows down as I pull my lab coat tighter around me. I only met my patient yesterday but he wouldn't hurt me right? No, he's the Joker. He'd do anything to me. 

  But, what if he doesn't? 

 I give John a look. I grip the dirty doorknob and twist it open. My breathing automatically labors as I see the man lying down, his green hair dimming by the day. 

  "Hey, baby boy. You're here early. I didn't quite like the other one, wasn't my type. You could smell the taste of sin on him. But it's not on you, you're clean, pure."

  I smile, I can't help it. "I never quite got your name, Joker. Care to tell me?"  

  "You have a horrible habit of completely dismissing what I say by the second! Oh, Daniel! Why must act so! Your mother wouldn't want this, would she?" 

  "My mother's dead, Joker." 

  "Ah, there he is! Actually listening to what I say! Anyway, you seem like a punk kid, you know that? Blue hair, tipped tongue, the kind of boy who only loves sex, money, and drugs. Just my type."

  "Alright, alright," I say, laughing. "Just tell me your name so I can get out of here."

  He gives me a wide smile, his pupils enlarging. "It's Phil, honey. Phil Lester."

  A shiver runs down my spine and for a split second, I see a younger man in front of me instead of the Joker. A man with black hair swept to the side, a bloodstained jumper tied around his thin waist. His knuckles shaking in front of his pale face, completely bruised and bloody. 

  Then the Joker comes back into view. "You got your share, tell me something. Are you a punk? Do you think you can walk into any room and scare people? Do you think you got the guts to kill someone?" 

  I take a breath. "Already have."

  I turn around and slam the door.