Chapter Text
Monday
7 p.m.
Before leaving the building, Jouliette tried to avoid anyone who wanted to look at her inside the elevator. It was late, she had to leave the bathroom at work, but needed to compose herself before.
It’s her third week living in this town, the capital of the region. She doesn’t know many things about it yet. The sun is setting, and she looks at the public beach next to her. She already knows about some parks, pretty spots, a bar and a coffee shop. From afar, you can see the port: the most important and the oldest in the country.
The town is a mix of late 19th-century buildings and modern structures designed for apartments and offices. It’s not a big town, and you can go to all the places of the city within 30-40 minutes. It’s a beautiful, patrimonial and wealthy city, which only can mean one thing: it’s a symbol of power and prestige for anyone who rules it.
Like all the big cities in this country, the crime rates are pretty high. And here, it’s a bit worse: corruption is a common thing, and also are organized crime, mafia activities, drug trafficking, etc, something that maybe is related to the port. And well, of course, the city is full of common delinquents: one stole her phone the other day, and she fell and bruised her knees.
It was an old phone anyway.
And like every corner of this fucking world, street harassment is a common thing. She already encountered some creeps, and gladly, she’s not using short skirts for a while until the bruises heal.
Talking about creeps…
Her boss. Today, he addressed the way she dresses. Yelling at her, of course. It’s not like she looks provocative or anything, it is quite the opposite: today Jouliette was wearing a floral, midi skirt, a white shirt, oxford shoes and a camel bag that suits them. He thinks that no one will respect her dressing like a teenager. It was curious: when she started working with him, he admired, complimented and supported her style so much. She started this job over a year ago, but their relationship deteriorated during the last months.
Anyway, she feels ridiculous wearing “adult” clothes. She feels like it doesn’t fit her. Jouliette is a pale, 1.57 meters tall, small skinny girl. Since she started working with Mr. Angelo, her stress peaked, and now she’s underweight. She doesn’t have much time to eat, and when she does, it's usually with her boss: her appetite is gone just looking at him. According to her ex-boyfriends and her family, Jouliette has a cute face: wavy and long brown hair, green eyes, and fine features. But she was still an average 25 year old girl.
To be fair, I look like that meme of the fish with big green eyes, don’t let them lie to you!!!!
She put on her earphones, played her music out loud and started walking.
When she realizes is near a bar a friend recommended called “Sunflower”, she decides to get in. Perhaps some alcohol will help her to forget this shitty day. It doesn’t make any sense to keep the sunglasses on, no one knows her.
She sat at a table by a window, and ordered a negroni. Lately she’s been into bitter-sweet drinks, although a year ago, before working with Mr. Angelo, she used to enjoy sweet, fruity drinks. That fucking douchebag.
Some chattering, mixed with something like respect and fear, fell over the bar. A tall, tough, intimidating man, sat on a table a few meters away from her. The three waiters argued (or something like that), and one of them, uncomfortable and upset, brought the guy a negroni, and quickly left.
Jouliette had the gift of looking at people without being noticed. Some people with good skills catch her, but the vast majority always think she’s invisible. With a subtle glance, she looks at the guy everyone seems afraid of. An unexpected thing called her attention: he looked sorrowful, like a man who’s facing a horrible destiny. He was really aware of his surroundings, as if he was being followed. That’s the moment when Jouliette decided it was a better idea to stop looking (carefully).
But she felt sorry.
If he feels sad about anything, is someone who deserves sympathy. He’s brave enough to experience his feelings without suppressing them. Facing the world being a tough guy must be simple if you forget you have a heart, but we’re all humans, including him. He can suffer like all of us “normal people” can. And maybe it’s worse because I don’t think people like him seek for help or comfort. Lastly, why do I have to assume he’s a bad guy solely based on his appearance? Well, I’m sorry for him anyway…
Jouliette focused on her drink, thinking ways to cope with the upcoming months: maybe joining a gym, thinking she’s beating Mr. Angelo,
…or maybe I can look for a hobby, like painting, or contemplate nature, or meditate, or maybe learn a trade. Now that I think about it… if I want to fight Mr. Angelo, it would be really cool to learn to do swords or some shit of the sort, even silverware would be fine. Wait, how do you craft–
She felt a dark, threatening energy behind her.
–Stand up. –Said a deep, annoyed voice.
It was the big-menacing man who arrived at the bar a few minutes ago. Jouliette looked at him, and a shiver possessed her body. Everyone stopped talking. It looked like something awful was about to happen right now.
Damn, I really screwed up this time. My boss yelled at me today and now I’m going through the terrible fate of dealing with an angry man that looks like a killing machine. Fighting or making a fuss just will shorten the time I have left to live.
But I don’t think he will harm me right here (this is me being delusional), and make an even worse scene.
Jouliette stood up, as the man demanded. Around her, a woman told her friend that they should go, people tried SO BADLY to mind their own business, and the manager just witnessed the scene, helpless.
She finally was in front of the tough guy, but he was so tall that she needed to stand on a chair if she wanted to look him into his eyes.
–Look at me. –He demanded. He was serious like hell.
Fuck. Her neck’s flexibility was not enough to fulfill that order: she was literally standing in front of his chest.
She took a little time to analyze him: his outfit was really something: black coat with straps crossing over his chest in an X form, partially exposing rippled muscles. Pants with black and white stripes, a belt with an inverted “R” on it, a hood-like headgear that ended with some small, golden metallic baubles hanging, with letters written on them.
Jouliette started to gaze upwards, slowly and carefully, until she reached his face and looked into his eyes. Black sclera, red pupils. Hard features, big lips. Medium skin, gray hair. What a weird guy. But the verdict was clear:
He’s really really hot, your honor.
(What a deep sexy fucking voice, by the way)
No, no, I don’t have time to think about things like that.
Big-menacing man gazed into Jouliette's eyes. Something surprised him for a moment, but immediately his expression shifted to an annoyed one:
–Do you have something to say to me? –He frowned.
His tone was, actually, intimidating. The guy is totally pissed. Jouliette was very clear that her answer was crucial. One wrong word, and she was gone for good.
If I say that I was just looking around, that would be a blatant lie. But… is it a good idea to say, in a bar full of terrified people, that this big-menacing man looks sad? Of course not. And I'd never expose anyone like that in front of many people, no matter who it is. No one deserves that.
She took a reckless, almost insane decision.
Of course this is the worst idea I’ve ever had in my whole life. Like, literally, this is the absolutely worst idea I’ve ever had in my whole life: I will tell the truth to this terrifying man that’s looking at me like he’s having the best killing fantasies about me (kind of sexy ngl). But you know, if I’m going to die today, why not tell him the truth? If I lie I’m going to die anyway, and I don’t want that the last words I say in my life were a bunch of lies. Besides, is THAT wrong feeling bad for someone? Doesn't that make me, you know… a good person?
Jouliette started, little by little, to get closer.
I need to tell him so no one listens. But I have the feeling that the more I approach, the more I’m pissing him off.
Menacingnometer: 80% (he came here at a 75% angry I think)
Ok, I think I’m close enough.
Menacingnometer: 89%
And with a low, calm and respectful tone, she said, nervous:
–You looked troubled and lonely. I just felt bad for you. I’m sorry if I bothered…
He frowned, and looked at her with even more anger. He was looking directly into her eyes, like thinking carefully about what he’s going to say.
Menacingnometer: 95%
He frowned a little more. His gaze was severe. Yes: this was the worst idea she has ever had in her whole life. Jouliette was pretty sure that she ruined his day.
Fuck. 99%
Finally, and without saying a single word, big-menacing man returned to his table.
Menacingnometer: ▒ꌃ▄b̸̤̤̭͑͛͒̂̽͐̑͌m̶̺̳͗ͅb̵̡̠̝̰̯͔̐͂̅̎̐̅́̕͠͝▒╬▓§.•´
?????
He… he left????
What the–?
Phew. Thank goodness.
What an awful day. I need a hug right now. I will pet Maiden so bad when I’m home.
Jouliette was very clear on something: she must leave the bar right now. Everyone knows she’s the insolent lady who dared to look at big-menacing man.
And to make things worse, I still have my stupid red puffy eyes, along with my stupid “I cried for hours without stopping” face.
She was embarrassed, to say the least. She barely touched her drink, but paid and left. Jouliette was on the edge of her vulnerability, and needed to go home.
Jouliette put on her earphones again, and decided to walk for a while.
She needed some fresh air.
***
He was really weird. I hope I don’t see him again. I will always be the nosy girl that ruined his drink of today (and mine). And of course that the next time I see him will be officially, 100%, the last day of my life.
In the middle of the first song she was listening to, a group of people looked at her, really concerned.
What the fuck is happening now? Do I have something in my face or anything? Can this day end already?
An old lady, with a pitiful expression, looked Jouliette in the eyes and pointed behind her. Jouliette looked back, and got startled.
It was the big-menacing man.
–This is the fourth time I’m trying to talk to you. –He said, upset. His tone was intimidating. He looked ridiculously serious.
FUCK.
FUCK.
Fuck, now I’m for real screwed.
Jouliette took off one of her earphones, showed it to him and apologized, keeping her distance. She felt that her tongue was going to tangle if she kept saying the words I’m so sorry this much.
–Follow me. –He demanded, serious as hell.
Big-menacing man started walking.
What a day, huh…
It’s a shame, I never went overseas… I wanted some holidays out of the country or maybe even a little trip inside the country… I never had a really good boyfriend… I wonder what my mom is doing right now… well… anyways… who’s going to feed my cat? My niece already knows that she will inherit my clothes… it’s fine…
Of course this wasn’t her best case scenario, but the truth is that she didn’t care if she was a dead girl, and didn’t seem to feel worried about being harmed or anything. Whatever happens, happens. Everything has its own reason to be, one that we cannot fight against. And maybe, it was the best thing that would happen to her now. The hell she was facing these last months was coming to an end and she didn’t even ask for it. No need to self harm. Big-menacing man could end everything for her.
And, after all, it was pointless to be afraid or cry or anything. Fate is fate, after all. Not enough reason to freak out or cry. Nothing would change. Crying won't change my fate. Even more, I came here after crying my guts out in the bathroom at my fucking job and now I’m going to die anyway. See? Death awaits everywhere.
Now that I think about it, I’ve been really close to death twice, one because of sepsis. And I defeated it. That time of the sepsis I lost a portion of my liver, but that thing regenerates, so I was pretty lucky. But today my luck is over. Nothing lasts forever, not even my liver.
Finally, they arrived at one of the pretty parks of the town. He looked at a bench next to them.
–Sit. –He demanded.
Jouliette, compliant and well-behaved, sat next to him.
–Who are you? What's your name? –He looked directly at her, carefully, and still menacingly.
Her strategy was simple: carefulness and precision. She will answer truthfully, but she will give just brief answers. She was thinking about her end: it’s better a quick death. If she’s left alive, she’s hoping to not lose a hand or an eye or something like that.
–My name… is Jouliette.
–Are you a tourist? New in town? –His next question was quick as hell.
–I moved here three weeks ago. –She answered, as quickly as he asked, like a clean ping-pong movement.
Jouliette was staring at their shoes, avoiding big-menacing man’s gaze. She had seen scenes like this in the movies: the tough guy was going to tell her something like in this town there are a lot of people you shouldn’t mess with blah blah blah… mind your own business and then BOOM, rest in peace Jouliette.
You know, I really feel that I’m an unlucky girl. I had the hope that I was collecting a bunch of misfortune lately, so someday I could redeem a charm or something in compensation.
But now my reward is going straight to–
–You look troubled and lonely too.
…!
WHAT
THE
FUCK
Why is he interested in my problems? Fuck. Do I have to tell this guy my problems? Maybe that’s how we will decide to spare my life or not. But if he finds out where I work, I’ll be in trouble, fuck…
–Jouliette. What happened to you? –Big-menacing guy tone was severe, but for some reason, a little less menacing.
Well, with bad guys, you never know. Sometimes they say weird things before killing you.
–Err… I… my job… my boss…
Jouliette realized something: more than fearing this tall, muscular guy, she didn’t want to talk about this. She was on the verge of tears, and tried her best to hide it. Furthermore, crying in front of a thug like him was an awful idea. If their former friends and lovers scolded her for being a weak, crying baby, a tough man like him might say or do something even worse.
–And your job is…? –He looked directly at her, focused as fuck.
I was already doomed before this question. Whatever .
–I’m… the assistant of a politician…
–That guy named Angelo? He moved into town a few weeks ago too. It was all over the news. New People’s Party, right? –He answered, in a neutral tone.
Jouliette nodded. What if this guy doesn’t like her boss? Or even worse: what if he does like him?
–Is he hurting you?
–It’s just that I… –Jouliette’s expression was more obvious than saying yes.
–Do you hate him?
Why is he asking this?
She took a little time before answering the question. Jouliette, until this point, never thought about the name of her feelings towards Mr. Angelo. Besides, she doesn’t like to feel things like hatred or grudge, she believes that acknowledging them would destroy her. But she was already wrecked, full of unhappy feelings. And maybe these were the last minutes of her life.
–Yes... I think… –She felt vulnerable as hell.
–Why don't you just quit? –He asked.
After hearing that question, Jouliette felt even more uneasy.
I can’t give him a childish or shallow answer. I wouldn’t be respecting what is happening to me.
She tried, in her vulnerable state, to compose herself, and got somewhat serious.
–You can’t just quit working with politicians. You handle a lot of confidential information, you can easily ruin someone’s career. The risk of being blackmailed into continuing to work with them or being always on their radars after quitting are both high… this is a corrupt country. You never know with them.
After hearing that and waiting a few seconds, big-menacing man got up from the bench. It was already dark.
–Let’s get out of here. –He started walking, but now at a slow pace.
Surprised by the fact of leaving the park in one piece, Jouliette followed big-menacing guy. Just pointing with his finger, he commanded her to walk following the sidewalk rule, and tried to pretend they weren’t walking together. He halted at a store window displaying various frames showcasing photos and paintings, and looked a them.
Jouliette looked at his profile.
He’s really handsome. And he looks really sad. It’s a shame that…
–I hate my boss too.
What?
Jouliette looked at him, and now, big-menacing man turned into something like a big-melancholic man.
–I lost two of my teammates a few months ago. They tried to uncover my boss’ identity, something forbidden and punished inside the organization. And he never fails to find it out. They experienced gruesome, horrible, painful deaths. Seeking revenge or anything is useless. I would end up dead too. And like your job: quitting isn’t that easy. The only thing I have now is to mourn them, and that’s it. Life goes on I guess.
Woah. Two of his teammates were killed by his boss? He really is a bad guy.
But… I’m pretty sure that he’s not telling me this to hurt me. Now that I connect the dots, he’s sad as hell because of this.
–I’m sorry… for your loss…
Former big-menacing man made a pause.
–Do you usually worry about strangers and feel sorry for them? –He said with a severe tone, crossing his arms.
FUCK.
She felt intimidated again.
–I work in the shadows of this town. And just to be clear: my job is to kill people. Don’t try to research the organization I’m in or who my boss is. If you see guys like me, avoid them. Don’t be this reckless again. You will be in more danger than you are right now. Understood?
Jouliette nodded.
–And… Thank you, Jouliette.
…!
What did he just…
–You witnessed the reaction of the people around us and you still showed sympathy. That’s why I told you all of this. You look like a kind girl. –He sounded, with a respectful tone. Still menacing, but respectful at least.
What? This guy… is thanking me?
A really weird man. But well, he took time out of his day that he could have spent being evil, thanking a silly underweight dwarf for sticking her nose where she shouldn’t.
Jouliette smiled at the big man.
For whatever reason, and even if he thanked her, he got upset again.
Is he allergic to smiles or something? Why does he look like… offended?
Whatever, I will tell him my life motto.
–I’m glad I made you feel that way. I just think that all people feel sad or troubled, and it doesn’t matter who could be the one feeling like that. We’re all human beings. Everyone deserves to be comforted or have someone that worries about them. You deserve it too.
He looked at her, absolutely shocked. For a few seconds, Jouliette felt like an alien, who spoke a language he didn’t understand. To make matters worse, the guy didn’t know where to focus his eyes after that.
FUCK. Did I glitch the man again?
The shock lasted a few seconds, and he went back to his serious and annoyed attitude, and tried to change the topic.
–Are you liking this town, so far?
Phew. He debugged.
And honestly, I don’t have many good things to say…
–It’s a pretty place, but I think I’m facing a rough patch now. Last week, a thief stole my phone and I ended up falling to the ground. And a lot of pervert guys live here, well, the world is full of perverts. But I’m positive that things are going to get better… or I hope so…
The man looked at Jouliette, trying to look focused and gentle, but he was still disoriented, like an astronaut still trying to get his shit together after landing on Saturn.
–My name is Risotto. I cannot do a thing about your boss right now, but I will try my best to prevent something bad happening to you in this town. Just do me a favor: don’t be this reckless again.
Did he…?
h̷͕̣̒e̷̺̭͚͔͊͒̄̏́͌̎ ̶̯̀̐͌m̴͇̦̲͍̈̓̌̒̓͋̆͝͠ā̷͉͇̰̟̗̝͆̊d̸̟̣͖̩́̏̿̚ḛ̴̛͙̙̞͍̜̱͉̆̄͠ͅ ̷̗̓m̴͕̫͈̲̣͔̔̉̈́̏̎̏́̕͜͝e̷̪͗̄͝ͅ ̵̢̧͎̖͇̬̞̎́͜a̵̞̦͋̄̆̃͆́͜ ̴̛̼̼̤̪̤͖͕̩̑̅̿͐̅͌̍͜͠p̶̧͕̭͂̀̀̾̒̄̎͘r̷̢̤̩̝̖̼̒̋̐̈́͜ò̸̬̰̥̹͇̜̌̈́͜m̷͙̜̉͑͌̈̈̑̋͝î̵̡̧̹̠̗͓̗̄̇̉̀͗̃͝s̶̟͎̦̲̬͇̭͓͆̾e̵̢̛̖̩̯̟̟̭̤̩̔͋̉́̍̔͜?̶̠̎̑̑̿̕
Ok. I will express the bare minimum.
Jouliette nodded, and smiled again.
Risotto looked at her smiling, and frowned again, more upset. After that, he avoided her.
??? It’s just a smile you know???
–Tch. Anyway, we part ways here. Don’t get any funny ideas: I’m not interested to know where you live or anything. Just take a cab and go home, you’re not in conditions of walking late at night or using public transport. I’ll wait until you find one. Which way the car needs to follow to get you home? –He said.
Juliette pointed to a big traffic light, two blocks away from them.
–They have to turn left there.
Jouliette took her phone and requested a taxi. A few minutes later, the car arrived and she got in. She was still alive, and left behind all the delusional ideas she had earlier, feeling kinda stupid. She felt guilty for judging him after all the things he told her, even if he never stopped looking at her like a nuisance.
Still with her eyes puffed, and completely exhausted, Jouliette got comfortable in the car and gazed out the window. Two blocks away from where Risotto was, the car didn’t make a left turn.
–Hey, little lady. You look like you had a bad day. Care to tell me what happened? Let’s see if I can cheer you up, heh?
The driver glanced at her through the mirror, making a nasty, perverted expression. Risotto's questions, although he sounded like an assassin robot, were asked with genuine concern, unlike this douchebag.
The car stopped at another traffic light.
–I will walk from here, thank you.
After Juliette exited the car, the driver looked at her, angry.
–Pfft, who do you think you are? Who would want to fuck a tasteless brat like you? You fucking bitch.
Green light. He shouted more slurs and drove away.
Jouliette at this point was absolutely frustrated. But she wasn’t thinking anymore, she only wanted to get home. She asked for another cab, and finally, she made it.
She took a warm shower, and after getting to bed, petted Maiden, her blue-eyed white kitty cat. As a pathetic ritual, she had the same feeling that's been experiencing since she started working with Mr. Angelo: the fear of what is going to happen to her tomorrow.
Don’t make any funny ideas?
“I will try my best to prevent something bad happening to you in this town”.
Of all the funny ideas, that’s absolutely the funniest.
Funny because it’s not going to happen, in the first place. Of course it was a polite thing.
And worst of all: he, without even knowing her, addressed the biggest trauma of her life. If it had been a date, Jouliette would have taken it as a giant red flag.
Many people say things like that. She thought about the people who promised (explicitly or not) to protect her: friends, boyfriends, even her family. That’s not a promise you can keep. No one can. Eventually, they got tired, telling her how needy and childish she was.
Taking care of someone is an enormous, hard as fuck task. It requires a huge amount of effort and dedication. It’s a persevering mission that you can only make possible through deep, loyal and selfless love. Does that kind of feeling even exist? Will someone be capable of protecting her with such deep love, no matter what? Perhaps some people have that luck, but she doesn't. Has she done something to deserve it, in the first place?
I’m overthinking this a lot. I despise myself so fucking much. But this is big-menacing guy’s fault. Why did he have to say something so triggering for me? It makes me want to cry.
Jouliette feels she got enough help in her past. Moreover, she doesn’t have anything to give in return.
And during these last months, life has shown me enough times that the only person who can take care of me is, actually, me. I used all my protection tokens.
My problem is: I always take that promise too seriously. Of course it’s related to everything I went through, but that’s not an excuse. It must be my punishment or something, for still looking for that kind of love.
Lastly, and most important of all: I don’t want it anymore. I always end up hurt as fuck. No. Won’t happen again.
She mumbled, half asleep:
Pfft… Not into this prince charming shit anymore…
Everything went black. A new day was going to begin soon.