Turquoise Puppet

Chapter 2

You tried hard to open my eyes.

It is a false testimony that you deliver to the authorities. You walk out of the police station and glance around for the nearest stationary shop. You find one, and walk in to buy a new notebook. You do not have mythomania; you believe you have good reason to lie. Being the sole survivor of the incident and sole witness of it at the same time means there is no one to contradict your statement except yourself—and as that is the case, it is best for you to keep track of your own lies, lest you give yourself away.

In your mind, you chuckle, silently mocking yourself for being in this situation.

After making the payment, you exit the shop and make your way back home without delay. Along the way, your mind replays—without your consent—the real events that took place that evening.

☆☆☆

It was exactly like a date—to anyone else, it couldn't possibly look like anything but that. You held her hand as the two of you carried groceries to your place; as she cooked, you played the piano, creating the soft background music often played in restaurants of more intimate settings. And even when she had just finished cooking, you kept playing still, as the symphony was not yet finished and she'd given you the smile that indicated she preferred to hear its finish. Thus, Esmae washed the pots and pans first, leaving the food on the table for the time being. Then, she dimmed the lights and came to sit by your side on the piano bench.

Your performance ended on a low note. As it did, you turned to face Esmae. In the reflection of her amethyst eyes you saw yourself: the natural black mid-length layered hair, the chestnut brown eyes that looked ordinarily gentle—according to Esmae, every lady wanted eyes like yours to look at herself. You didn't care if that was true; it only mattered that she herself liked it.

You smiled at her, completing the picturesque image of a gentleman, and she beamed, satisfied with that image. Next, you lifted her chin with a finger and planted a kiss on her lips. It was a slow, courteous kiss, and she responded in kind.

So what part of that wasn't a date?

When you pulled away, you didn't notice the sadness in your smile. You only realized when Esmae said, "It's alright, we're fine as we are now."

"Thank you," you said in response, looking down. "I don't deserve you."

"Don't be silly," she said, now standing up. "Come, let's eat."

The two of you moved to the open kitchen to eat. During the meal, Esmae spoke of her modelling work, the challenges she faced, her fears and aspirations. She spoke of a few colleagues in particular that she was closer to. Bluntly, she told you that one male colleague had confessed to her two days ago but she'd rejected him.

"Why?" you asked then. "I mean—what was the reason that you gave?"

Esmae shrugged lightly. "I told him I don't like him that way, and that I'm not looking for a boyfriend. He didn't buy it."

You sighed. "Of course he didn't."

"Unless you tell them you like someone else, they'll never buy it," Esmae added, "But it's the modelling industry. That option is off the table."

When you finished dinner, you poured two glasses of wine for the both of you, and moved to the couch with Esmae. Now that you were sitting closer to each other, she was able to show you which models she had been talking about earlier. No sooner had this started than someone knocked at the door. Esmae put her phone back into her pocket as you went to greet the unexpected visitor.

"Alec?" you breathed out the name—the shock of seeing him there, five years later, rattled you to the point of losing immediate control of your expressions.

Behind you, Esmae stood up, just as caught off guard as you were but much less shaken. "Alec?" she asked, sounding somewhat confused.

"...I wasn't too late." That was the first thing Alec said. He was calm and clearly disappointed, squinting first at Esmae and then you. He turned back to Esmae after that comment to add another one. "Does he know about our relationship?"

"What?" you asked, not expecting that question at all.

"What?" Esmae exclaimed at the same time, for the same reason.

"Don't play dumb with me, both of you," Alec said. He stared at her intently. "Well?" he prompted.

"I'm...sorry, what exactly are you trying to say?" she replied.

"I see."

Alec interpreted that as her answer. The next actions he took began as something that looked very casual, so much that neither you nor Esmae sensed any warning signs. He unzipped the black bag that he had brought with him, and from it retrieved a pistol. Without another word, he took aim at Esmae and fired. The bullet hit her between the eyes, and she fell without uttering another sound.

"Alec, what on earth...?!" you uttered, looking around for the nearest phone.

He did not let you call anyone. Alec, his expression calm as a still lake, gripped the collar of your shirt and pushed you down. You fell back onto the coffee table, knocking over the glasses of wine in the process. He still held his pistol with his free hand, and you grabbed the hand that held you prisoner with both of yours; but your strength was no match for his, this had always been true.

"Now that you can't use her as a shield anymore, we can talk properly," Alec said.

"This is hardly proper!" you said. "What did you do that for? You're a basketball star now. If this gets out, your future will be ruined."

He understood perfectly that you weren't threatening him, but truly questioning the logic behind his actions. In response, he let out a mocking chuckle.

"If I am to die tonight, how does the future of my career matter?" he retorted.

You could not refute that.

"I wish this didn't have to happen," Alec continued, seeing that you had nothing to say.

"Sure...I know that you are now free, I know that you have been free," you recalled, "But you can't go back to your family anymore, nor the friends you valued so much in our childhood days. Was that worth it?"

"And you, are you doing that much better than I?" Alec questioned, "Your family hasn't disowned you, but do you ever visit them? When you do, are you happy with them? The same thing with our old friends. Do you really enjoy their company when they know nothing of who you really are? Are you truly comfortable with them?"

Saying thus, he pointed the pistol to his own temple. You widened your eyes in shock.

"Did you come here to die before me?" you asked.

"That would be too ugly." The lopsided smile on his lips was still the very same one as the one you used to know. "Answer my questions, Koen."

"...No, I'm not happy with them. But there is no guarantee that I—or you—wouldn't change in the future. There was no guarantee that risking everything was worth it, losing the family and everything you grew up with."

"That's a pretty simple question to answer," Alec said. "Would it be worthwhile if you had chosen a different path? I think you know, too. Tell me this: did you ever change your mind about me?"

At first, you were silent. But then your gaze shifted to Esmae.

"You didn't quite panic when she fell," Alec reminded you, "No one would believe you were in love with her if they saw that instant."

He was right. You couldn't use her as a shield anymore.

"I never changed my mind," you mumbled in defeat.

"See? That's proof that it would have been worth it. Good to know you haven't changed your mind—stay that way."

With that, he pulled the trigger...on you.