𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈

• 22 •

Remember all the times I said that I'll never see my mentor again? Yeah, well, by the Keenan Travino in black and dark red beside me, I'd say that all of that was bullshit.

Our feet met concrete in every slow step. Today is a great day and I'm sure that everyone already has an idea of what a great day looks like: light blue sky, a few clouds, sun's out but it's not too warm. Plus, it's autumn, so the breeze is my preferred day chill. There aren't a lot of green around us—browns, yellows, and oranges, yes. The wide pathway is for kids biking, people walking their dogs, elders wandering with the help of mobility aids, some teens on skateboards, scooters, some wearing roller skates—basically humans going on about their lives. Occasionally we'd pass a few food stands, mainly hotdogs, coffee, and ice cream. I want some ice cream. I stopped, and Keenan stopped beside me.

Seeing Mr. Travino in the center of a relatively lively place is like seeing a wolf amongst puppies. He doesn't fit in, but maybe it's only me since this is the first time I'm seeing him outside his residence. Surprise, surprise, this man goes out. Shocker, I know.

I ordered two scoops of chocolate in a cup and glanced at Keenan, quietly asking if he wanted anything. He gave me an annoyed look and shook his head, as if offering the man some ice cream was a sin.

We agreed not to chat in my apartment because my apartment has a door with locks, a bed, a couch, a table, counters, and a bathroom—security and possible fuck spots. I don't trust myself around Keenan. I'm not gonna do the same fuck-up twice. That's why, after fifteen minutes, we found ourselves in a park just across my little secret of a cafe. I've never been to Endren Plaza until today, but I always got a glimpse of it whenever I drove by. Today, the recreational park is decorated with the typical Halloween designs: cobwebs, ghosts on trees, witches brooms, pumpkins, and the likes.

I paid for my ice cream and we continued walking, Keenan catching a lot of eyes. Not because he's famous—he looks different after seven years, and I doubt people know faces of authors like they know faces of actors—but because he's so fucking gorgeous. Simple people on Earth, ones just like me, are admiring the man; people glancing our way to take mental pictures. It somewhat made me feel lucky to be walking alongside the sex incarnate.

The breeze blew and Keenan stuffed his hands into his pockets. Every move he makes is still so appealing to me. I took a small spoonful of ice cream into my mouth and spoke, "Will this take long? I have somewhere to be."

"Where?" he muttered.

And since I love using his lines against him, I said "Don't pry," which had him rolling his deep brown eyes.

I felt his gaze as we walked, "I didn't think I'd rub off on you so easily," said Ki.

"Well, you were my mentor, after all," I told him, using the past tense since I won't hit the man up for help anymore. Now I can only hope that won't be bullshit too. I spoke again, "Can we just get to the point?"

He looked ahead, eyes scanning the everyday scene. When he spoke, it was off topic, "For someone who has a love-hate relationship with humans, this is as calming as it is stressing," he was referring to our surroundings.

I laughed shortly, "You say that as if you aren't one," one chocolate scoop down.

"But I am," said Keenan, "I have a love-hate relationship with myself too, you know," and that had me curious again of what this man's been through. Keenan's line was random, but then again this man speaks whatever the hell pops into his genius mind. It had me yearning to see all other sides of him, preferably the nice one which Jan spoke highly of.