The Degradation

Chapter 8

Hervé Bazin wrote: "Life without a future is most often live without a past." Bullshit. Sometimes the past brings so much pain that it leaves us without a future. - Harry

***

Song: Nikki – How to Break a Heart

***

"16. Will you come to the masquerade ball tomorrow?"

"No"

"Why?"

"Because I don't like balls and masks and people."

"And dancing?"

"Never."

"That's too bad you're not coming."

"Why?"

"Because that could be cool. The Anonym in a black mask lost in the middle of the crowd. Well, you know what I mean."

"I like the idea."

"So, will you come?"

"No, I still don't like people."

And it's probably stupid, but I smiled. He doesn't like people, but he doesn't push me out. It's such a nice feeling to know that I'm different, I'm different from other people. When I'm with Anonym, I feel like I'm dear to him. No, I have no self-esteem issue, quite the contrary. I know what I'm worth and I'm proud of it. But it's different with him, it seems to me that my actions actually make sense. For example, when I'm not mad at him if he doesn't want to talk or calm him when he's sad. I feel good when I do it. That's because he turns the most unimportant things into vital ones. I think that's what I like about him. The way he shows me I'm worth something without even knowing it.

"And this one?"

I quickly lose my smile and look up, sighing in exasperation.

"It's perfect."

Like the other eight, she tried on. I don't understand how I could agree to that. I've been sitting on the couch in front of the fitting room for two hours, pretending to look at Eleanor's dresses. Every time I tell her they're all beautiful, but she still hasn't picked one. She turns around the mirror and tilts her head to the side. I'm warning you, don't say what you're going to say.

"I'll try another."

Not again. I'd rather jump off a bridge than sit here for another hour. My turn to manipulate. I stand up and put my arms around her waist.

"No. This's perfect."

"But you say it every time!"

I tilt my head to whisper in her ear:

"Yes, but I can already imagine pulling it off you after the ball."

Efficiently. Twenty minutes later we're on the street.

***

The party's started two hours ago and I'm finishing my seventh or eighth glass of whiskey. I don't know and I don't care. The main hall of the University is decorated in the style of the sixteenth century. The girls are in dresses, the guys are in suits. All of them are in masks. I'm standing at the bar with a glass in my hand, talking to a blonde whose name I don't remember. Eleanor made me so angry with her dancing, I sent her to fuck off. I hate dancing and she knows it. Insulting me, she didn't forget to clarify that the dress will pull off her someone else. Oh, Hallelujah, finally. Blondie tells me that... I have no idea what she's telling me. I look at her cleavage, it's more interesting. She abruptly interrupts her monologue and looks at something behind my back.