Flight part 1

The Woman

The alley is dark... it smells of sex and urine. Even with my care to keep to myself as much as possible I always need a shower after walking down this path. I always leave his home this way. Never through the front door to the light of day. That wouldn't be right for someone like me. I walk down the back stairs, past the unusable heaters no longer connected to anything of worth. In reality a part of me wonders if I have more in common with these unused heaters than I care to admit… Further down I go past animal feces, possibly human as well and open the rusted door. Its emergency exit sign no longer works, the only remnant of the alarm are a few blurred words on the darkened window. Outside this door it's always dark, even in the middle of the day…
Today I came by at 9am, a rare time for me. Surprisingly, he was in, he told me he skipped work because he felt sick. I believed him, until I looked at him face to face. The sickly sound I heard before was only a side effect from the malnourished speaker system in his apartment complex. His hair was stuck to the side of his head and obvious attack from his bed sheets. His boxers were backwards, and he only had one arm through his shirt. I had forgotten he slept nude even when I wasn't here, or was I here last night?
He let me in with a smile "Back already?" he said. So I had been here last night... I looked at his face, that half smile smirk he made and knew he was joking. "So where have you been?" "Oh here and there" I replied. He laughed pouring himself some coffee. I saw the black liquid flow easily down his throat, each gulp causing his adams apple to bounce up, almost a greeting for my eyes. "Do you want some?" he said this as he produced a green mug filled to the brim and placed it on the kitchen table. As he sat down, I could see his foot pressing against the chair leg opposite from him, pushing it ever so slightly in my direction. He bobbed his head towards it, an obvious invitation. I sat down sipping the dark black coffee; he had never once asked me how I preferred to take it.
-"So what's the real reason you are home?"
-"Hah! My sick voice didn't fool you?"
-"Hum…"
- "Ok, Ok. If you must know Kris has got it all taken care of."
-"Kris?"
-"Yeah you know, guy from work…" noticing my black expression he went on. "He's a real good seller this guy, a bit odd though. Anyway he used to work at AMC…"
-"AMC? …if that's true what is he doing at your firm?"
-"You know I haven't got the foggiest". He laughed. I knew whenever he said "haven't got the foggiest" he knew exactly what was going on, or believed he did. "So anyway, the guy gets this huge account for us yesterday. I, being on the team, got to reap in some rewards for that. I still have some paperwork but… well I have today and the rest of the week off." A grin spread across his face as he stretched with satisfaction.
-"What did you do for the account?"
-"Ah come on, I worked too. Just this guys finished it all up, got everything all smooth. But never mind that. What are you doing here? Playing hooky?"
- "Well in fact, much like your friend, I was able to get a promotion. I'm leaving too Milan tonight."
-"Wow, congratulations! I had no idea you were on their A list in fashion."
-"Thanks…"
-"Oh don't take it the wrong way, I just mean… I had no idea. You were in the advertising business too, you got into fashion and it seems to have paid off. I'm happy for you, I'm sure you'll have a great trip." He smiles at me, that innocent smile, truly happy for my success. He doesn't question it. I wonder why he doesn't cry out that I will be leaving him, alone, without a casual sexual partner; but more than that I'm astounded. How did he remember anything about me at all? On most days I come in, we fill ourselves of each other, he sleeps, and I sneak out before he regains consciousness. When did he begin to learn about me? When did I … "more coffee?"
-"No I should get going…"
-"Alright, good luck on your trip!"
I wait… Waiting for him to pull me to his bed, for us to reside in each other one last time… but he says nothing. As I stand and walk toward the door he merely follow to close the door behind me. When I reach the doorframe I hear his footsteps stop. "Don't be a stranger…" he says it so low I can barely make out the words. I turn to him and put on my best smile. "I won't be gone forever", but we both know this is a goodbye something has ended. He doesn't understand why but he will not push me. I walk outside moving down the hall only slightly. From this position he can't see me through his doors peephole, he doesn't know I'm stuck there, listening to his footsteps recede away from the door, back into his own life. I force myself to take one step and then another. I find myself walking down the same cold, dank passageway I always take loosing myself in its darkness before facing the world once more.

The Man

I step towards my kitchen table… the green mug stares at me, almost mocking me with its presence. I knew something was wrong; she's never been here in the morning. I hate myself for not asking more questions. Although I do think I will see her again it all feels different…what should I have done? We aren't anything really, not even friends. The most we are to each other are pleasure seekers. Before her I just went from woman to woman hoping for the best. Since we met she's been the only one. I take the green mug in my hand, wondering why I'm getting so sentimental. I should be happy, that account gained by the firm puts me in a good position, money in my pocket and a long weekend to waste it on. It just feels… unsatisfying somehow. I bring my hand back behind my head staring at the wall above my kitchen sink. I fling my arm forward but don't let go of the mug. It's still in my hand, proof of a conversation that never should have been. But that's how fate is sometimes, I'm here, you're here, we met and something happens. Reconsidering, I turn on the faucet letting the water wash away all traces of her from the item mocking me in my hands. I was it carefully with a washcloth and place it out to dry. I stare at it…it stares back. "She's not here anymore" it tells me. "Time to take a shower" I say to no one but myself.
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As the last drops of water scatter down my body thoughts of her come back into my mind. I take a hold of myself; I begin to try to imitate her touch. I pass my fingers down the middle of my chest, going further down my stomach and stop abruptly, mocking my senses as she once did. I begin to close in around my own eager skin, puling slight while being as gentle as I can manage. Grasping at the shower titles I feel myself become fiercely aroused at the memory of her face, her smile her thoughts and then I stop. All feelings of pleasure have left me, instead I feel an insurmountable sadness welling up inside of me. My stomach begins to tingle in the same way it does when I'm sick. I step out of the shower and brace myself with the sink top. "Breathe in breathe out", again and again I say this until my body is once again in my control. I've stopped it for now. It's time to get out of here and relax. There are plenty of things to do and I've got money for them all.

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Kristofer

It's been a long day… As I'm standing in the elevator I begin to feel lightheaded. I've never liked these things… I haven't eaten anything yet, I didn't sleep, at least I don't think I did, and somehow I'm back in the office at 11am today. Why am I here? Can't they do anything without me around? You'd think I'm the only young star rising in this place. Oh wait… he is being lazy, so maybe there is only me. The doors open with a whine, and I'm greeted by the bright florescent light and endless chatter of the firm. Although there are endless employees the paint is cracking on a few walls, the carpet is stained and all of the higher ups are constantly taking pain medication, probably to try and deter the incoming bankruptcy of this place. No one seems to notice but me and a few others who transferred here. The rest think all firms are like this, the constant begging to get any clients just to keep our heads slightly above water. As I walk through this mess and attempt to make it to my desk I start to think that I almost miss AMC. Ah good ol' AMC, the height of perfection in the marketing world. Anything I wanted I could have had there, of course there is more competition to get to the top, but that isn't why I come here…
-"Kristofer my boy! Thank you for coming in at such short notice. I know you probably had plans, but we really need you to seal this deal."
-"I thought the deal was done?" what I want to say is "what did you fuck up?"
-"Ah yes well we had a slight…hitch."

Mr. Caffegy leads me down the familiar corridor to his office. The walls beside me are lined with past directors of the firm. It reminds us that once this place had potential. Who knows it might have been another AMC if they would have made different choices, and if they were more corrupt. At the end of the corridor the hall opens into a waiting room. All current directors and CEO's faces great you when you enter. Walking towards the large double doors I can hear the client yelling inside. It sounds like he's angry about not getting some M&M's but I know better than that. When I turn to Mr. Caffegy I see his brow is covered in sweat he paused as the door, taps his forehead with a handkerchief and opens the doors. "Hello Geor! Look who I have here!" A large picture of Mr. Caffegy greets us on the opposite side of the room. Every time I look at it I wonder what happened to that young man in the picture. He looks about 40 there, a full head of hair, full of hope instead of food, nothing like the man in front of me now.
-"Kristofer! Thank the gods! Will you tell this pompous fool he cannot treat me this way! And…"  Mr. Harresy stares down Mr. Caffegy, giving him a looks of utter disgust, "Do not call me Geor! We are not friends! We are barely business associates!"
-"Mr. Harresy… please tell me, what exactly is going on?" I'm trying to use my best calm voice, but something feels wrong, and then I see it. The commercial playing in the background and my jaw drops.
-"Ah so you know then! Of course you would, unlike this idiot you are a bright young man."
-"Mr. Harresy, Kristofer, came someone tell me what the problem is? I can't fix it if you don't…"
-"It's obvious isn't it!" Mr. Harresy tries to control himself but fails; he instead opts to look at me. "Well, can you explain this?"
-I clear my throat choosing my words carefully… "Mr. Caffegy, sir… in the commercial as you can see when the product is being shown to the audience the logo is placed on a red banner… As I recalled, I asked specifically for a yellow banner."
-"And? The design team thought it clashed with the logo so they changed the color, I don't understand."
-"You see what I am dealing with! Kristofer please do something about this, or I, and my company are leaving this firm!"
-"Mr. Caffegy…Using a red banner is generally considered to be a bad omen in the Cifern belief system…not only that, but at his 64th year is become and even worse omen. You see on the 65th day of Galleran many thousands or years ago legend states that many young women were sacrificed for the reining belief at the time, and then they moved to children and eventually young men. Mr. Heresy's family line dates back to that date and I believe over half of them were killed because of it."
-"That is correct…" I could tell that Mr. Harresy was calming down, in part because of the state of mourning this tale probably bought upon him.
-"Not only that, but the reining belief at the time, would put up one red banner for every 'infidel' they were able to kill… So you see using that red banner so close to Mr. Harresy's 65th birthday and not only that but having a beautiful young woman as the spokesperson… is nothing short of blasphemous. He would never be able to use this commercial. If you go back to the specifications I gave the design team you will see this is all accounted for."
-"Well spoken boy." Mr. Harresy smiled at me, and at once I knew I saved the account. Well father… you've saved me again, for better or worse.
-"I…I…" Mr. Caffegy had turned completely red at this point. He continued to pat down his forehead and look between me and Mr. Harresy. "If I would have known I wouldn't have…"
-"But you did didn't you! You'd better thank this boy for helping you keep this account."
-"Mr. Harresy I assure you I will follow all specification so that this will never happen again."
-"You better hope it doesn't not happen again! Kristofer, if you ever leave this firm let me know. It's prices are good but not good enough I'd rather follow a fellow Cifern."
-I was startled by this… trying to catch my words I quickly answered "Y…yes sir!"
-"Good, good, and as for you!" He turned once again to Mr. Caffegy, "Not having a belief is not an asset, and you may wish to consider that! Good day!" And he stormed out of the office leaving Mr. Caffegy and I in a hollow silence with only the wind from the double doors moving.
-"Well…um… I had no idea you were a Chif Kristofer... ah, I mean a Cifern yes…well it saved us I suppose, and for that I thank you. You may go home now. I'll take care of the rest; don't worry about returning until the 23d."
-"Sir?"
-"I may not approve of Beliefs in the office but… this once it cause more good than not. Take some extra days off; although I might call you if we have a similar situation arise again."
-"Yes sir…"
I really hoped he wouldn't call me again. I needed this vacation, badly. A few extra days for the stress today and I really wish my Harresy hadn't called me a Cifern…then again I suppose it's true in a way isn't it? I found myself standing there in a bit of shock while Mr. Caffegy started sorting through his files, sweat dropping on many of the papers, causing the ink to bleed. I quietly walked out of the room. When I entered the waiting room Gira walked swiftly past me winking at me for a moment before entering the office. I could hear them talking about everything they needed to change and all the departments they would have to contact. "Time for me to put my exit into high gear" I walked briskly down the hall passing all the forlorn directors, each of them older than the next. I almost raced to the elevator and then thought better of it… Mr. Harresy may be taking the same on down himself… and I really don't want to get into all that again. "So now what?" Ah…I decided to go to his desk…
His desk was misarranged as usual, organized to him and him alone. I never understood how someone could have such and organized home and yet a desk that looked like a disaster zone. The office was busier than usual. I'm sure the information on the Harresy account already reached this level, which would explain the madness. I sat in his chair, waiting for someone to see me. Of course no one noticed. I spun around on the chairs wheels a few times, feeling weightless for a moment. After a while I placed my feet on the ground, slowly bringing myself to a stop, and my consciousness down to earth. I touched his pens, picked one up and began to write on his post-it pad.
Hello, You don't know who I am but…
Rip, crumble, trash.
"Ahem…"
Hello, I've always wanted to tell you…
Rip, smash, trash.
Hello! I…
Rip, fold, break, trash.
"Sigh…"
"It never works does it…"
Even if it did, I know he doesn't go for men. "I should probably look elsewhere…"
I began to flop through his drawers, looking between the pencils, pens and random papers. A small candy stash was at the bottom of one drawer, hidden behind a fake organic cereal box. I laughed, thinking of him trying to fool himself into believing his sugar intake is healthy. I knew I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be doing this… why do I? Why can't I get him out of my head? I don't think of him constantly but it's as though his presence is in the back of my mind, just waiting for an opening…I slam his drawers closed, pick myself up, dust off my regret and walk on to the elevator once again. This time I know I won't run into Mr. Harresy on my way down.

The Man II

After doing groceries and paying bills I still have enough money to splurge, thankfully. I really need this time. I decide to start by drinking at a local bar. The Grotto has the best nachos in this area and great drinks. I sit my favorite booth; a cute waitress comes my way with my plate piled high with chips, beef, sour cream, guac and more. I start to pile into it while drinking water; I don't want to get wasted when it's only 6pm.
I start to think about the day's events, that uneasy goodbye. I begin to remember our first meeting. I had seen her here for a few nights, sitting right over there on that worn red stool. She always ordered any drink with a mini umbrella. When she finished her drink, she'd play with the umbrella and put it in her hair, a paper flower adorning her. I still remember the first time I approached her. I was down from work, I helped the firm lose an account and worried my job would be lost, leaving me on the streets. I had drank about a gallon of tequila, which is ironic because I hate the taste of it. I could barely remember my own name. The only thing turning in my head was self loathing. She looked over at me, we locked eyes and she mouthed. "Everything will be ok" I wondered how she knew something was wrong. Sure now I know how obvious my depression was to everyone around but, but at the moment I felt alone in the world. I was drowning and she became a light in the distance, shining just for me. I moved towards her and asked for the stool beside her. "It's free but…why don't we go to a booth instead. I don't want you falling over." She took me by the hand and brought me right here, to this very booth. We sat for a while, not saying a word. At some point I think I started to blather on about my life's troubles. She merely sat there with me, handed me water and watched me get over my drunken state. After that I passed out. I must have made it home somehow. I woke up the next day with a glass of water on my night stand, resting comfortably under my blankets dressed only in my boxers.
We met a few times after that, I always wondered what I told her that night but she'd never say and I never asked. We became bed partners, fulfilling each other's desire and then moving on in the world. I always worried if she was ever satisfied and part of me knew she had a deep sadness no one could reach. Whenever I tried to talk to her or about her she would change the subject by rubbing me in just the right place or kissing me with such passion I became drunk off her. Our relationship was intimate and yet meaningless, why am I surprised she left? What did she have here, besides a drunken lover who didn't even know her real name.