Set Voland--a homeless young man who attacked a child in the midst of hallucinations--has been caught by the police and sent to a psychiatric hospital. There, he's stricken by a meeting with a Shining White Being who will completely overturn his lif...
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"Everything about you is how I'd wanna be
Your freedom comes naturally
Everything about you resonates happiness
Now I won't settle for less
Give me all the peace and joy in your mind."
Bliss, Muse
With the wine bottles packed in his hands, Set stood at Central Park's access from 59th Street. He'd followed the instructions found in the hand-drawn map that was in the back of the gift-card. Both, the card and the map, even the envelope containing them, were all decorated with frilly flowers and little hearts. Creepy.
Still, the exact address was not specified.
Setlooked around carefully, as pointless as it might be. Across the greens stood several buildings. He had no idea which one was the right one. So, there he was, sticking out like a bloody sore thumb.
Nice-looking people kept passing him, most of them busy with jogging, phones, dogs or children. Some of them with all of that shit at once. Set moved his eyes from the happily swinging ponytail of a brown-haired girl in lemon-colored shorts to a black woman pushing a stroller--she chatted back to the headphones tucked in her ears, still wearing a jumpsuit to pretend she was exercising. Neither of them looked back. They just carefully changed their trajectory.
Thanks to his grungy look, Set was scrutinized and avoided. Nobody asked him to move aside either. Plastered all over their faces was the fear he could beg for money or—worst-case scenario—being sick and contagious.
He had been waiting for almost a half-hour, and his nerves were worn thin when a woman walked straight to him. She had short curly hair, huge boobs squeezed into a white tank top, and thick thighs in ultra-skinny jeans, bleached and breached to add a touch of wild to her hot look.
Set forgot to act cool and stared openly.
While she sashayed closer in her golden wedges, he squinted at her chest and shoulder tattoos. His eyes darted back to her face as she brushed her curls away from her eyes, and uncovered the ugly truth. It was Maria, Vito's daughter. She stopped in front of Set and glanced at the box he was carrying. After a moment, her narrowed eyes moved up to meet his.
"Please, tell me I'm wrong," she said, her pretty mouth twisted downward.
Set scratched the back of his head, his other hand still holding tight onto the wine. "You are wrong...?"
Maria huffed. "Mister Vain sent me to pick up his guest and his wine." She pointed at the bottles with a raised eyebrow.
