by Almon Chu
through the stained mirror. Through my half-hearted efforts I managed to make myself appear presentable. I walked back to the computer and checked for any sign of Eris. Once again I found nothing. Looking at the picture of her pinned to my wall I sighed and left my apartment.
I shot glances to my left and right and locked my front door. My eyes still stung from lack of sleep. I lit my breakfast of half a cigarette, inhaling as I called for the elevator. Exhaling as I leaned back against the wall. My fingers twitched. Exhaling. Inhaling. Exhaling. Inhaling. The elevator was taking its sweet time. After a few long moments the elevator finally arrived crowded with the usual suspects. I threw my cigarette butt to the ground, exhaled the last breath of smoke, and crammed myself into the overloaded elevator.
On my way to the subway terminal I was stopped by a clean-cut Korean dressed in black and white. He came armed with a bible and pamphlets in hand, a counterfeit smile drawn across his face.
“Have you heard good word of Jesus Christ?” he said.
“No sir, I’ve been living under a rock and as a child I was both deaf and blind.”
He stared blankly in confusion as he tried to hand me a pamphlet.
“If you believe, you save soul from hell. You look like sad man. God can make you happy.” he continued in his broken English.
I waved my hand at him to decline his offer of redemption but he continued with his rehearsed lines.
“Jesus loves all, God forgives all,” he said.
You don't need this.
Eris loves, you need no forgiveness.
“I’m okay, fuck off,” I said.
“Please, I only try to help. Please save yourself by giving yourself to God.” He went on.
He shrugged as I passed him and began targeting the next person to walk down the street.
The subway ride was strangely devoid of rambling lunatics that day.
My cell phone rang halfway through the filthy streets of Chinatown. I stopped walking to answer it and immediately felt the eyes of the street peddlers fix on me. The massive torrent of people began to walk around me.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hey!” It was a female voice, familiar, but impossible to pinpoint. Lacy? Lucy? Jessica? Annie? It was times like these that made me regret cancelling the caller ID function from my phone-plan in order to save a few dollars.
“What’s up?” I was stalling for time, hoping that I would recognize her voice before the conversation became awkward. The street vendors drew closer, pushing through the swarm of people.
“Hey young man, you want to buy?” said a vendor holding up a pair of imitation sunglasses.
“No thank you.” I waved my hand at him, the cell phone still in my other hand.
“What?” she said.
“No sorry, not you. There’s some random guy trying to sell me junk.”
“Oh... So I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight,” she said.
“Two fifty, Two fifty.” said an old lady in a beaten sunhat, shaking a bundle of vegetables in front of my face.
“No thank you.” I said.
“Oh- Okay then” the girl on the phone said.
“Not you, just another person trying to sell me some crap,” I said slightly agitated. “Dinner sounds wonderful, where and when?”
“I was thinking sushi at eight,” she said.
I groaned in disapproval. Sushi was expensive and rarely kept me satisfied for very long.
“Fine, what if I paid?”
Another vendor came at me with his wares. He shoved a neon multicoloured battery fan in my face. “You see? Very popular, very popular.”
“One second.” I said before putting my hand over my cell phone’s transmitter. “Oy. I don’t want your shit, fuck off.” The vendor backed off. A few pedestrians stared, suddenly I was the nuisance.
I removed my hand from the transmitter. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. I hate people bothering me as much as you do, remember?” she said. I still had no idea who I was talking to. Sarah? Becky?
“Yeah,” I lied, “and if you’re paying then sushi sounds amazing.”
“Ha-ha, alright you cheap bastard. I’ll meet you at eight on the prospect-union subway platform. See you then.”
“Bye,” She hung up, my cell phone closed with a snap.
I had succeeded in avoiding an awkward conversation but failed to recognize the voice. Amanda? Nancy? I gave up my guessing game as I approached work’s steel door. I figured that I would find out who she was when eight rolled around. I knocked twice. I knocked once. I knocked twice again. The door opened. I glared down the new kid, threw my jacket on a coat-hook, and descended into the warm darkness of the basement. Aleksi came in a few minutes after.
“Look who’s the late fucker now?!” I said.
“Hey, good morning to you too, fuck-face!” he said back.
We smiled and began our work. My mind was soon swarmed by thoughts of Eris. The same endless loop of obsessive thoughts ran through my head: her smile, her laugh, her scent, her smile, her laugh, her scent.
Work ended, and I retired my train of thought for another work day. On my way out with Aleksi, I shouted goodbye to Berne.
“Dinner?” Aleksi said.
I was half-way to mouthing yes when I remembered my plans to score a free meal of sushi from a familiar stranger.
“I can't. I've got somewhere else to be.”
“You? You never have any place to be. Don't tell me you're rushing home to jerk-off!”
“Fuck you! I've got dinner plans with someone.”
“Bullshit! With who?!”
Aleksi was starting to get on my nerves again.
“Someone, an old friend.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“So you're going out to dinner with someone you don't know... Is it a guy or a girl?”
“Girl, what diff-”
“Bullshit! It's probably some fat guy with one of those voice changers!”
“The fu-”
“Then he's going to meet up with you, drug you, kill you, and then have sex with your corpse before selling it on the black-market!”
I couldn't help but smile at the mental image Aleksi was conjuring up.
“Fuck you,” he said “I'm perfectly serious here!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said as I walked away from Aleksi, “fuck off, I'm going to dinner.”
“I'll see you on the front page of the newspapers tomorrow then!” He yelled after me, “I'll be sure to make a beautiful speech at your funeral, you fucker!”
I looked back at Aleksi and waved goodbye, stupid grins plastered on our faces.
Pushing through the ocean of people I made my way towards the subway station. The street vendors were perched like vultures at their stalls, yelling, scanning for potential customers. There was no point in which I slowed or stopped, no chance for the vendors to close in. I stopped when I reach the doors of the subway station for the last half of my breakfast cigarette. A beggar sat within arm's reach, a paper cup filled with change lay at his feet. I rattled my pack of cigarettes and counted the few that remained.
“Spare a few cents?” the beggar said through broken teeth. He smelled of sweat and cheap alcohol. He reeked of weakness.
I spat the remains of my cigarette into the beggar's cup. He cursed at me but was too weak to cause real trouble. “Fucking piece of shit. Fuck you man.” I didn't pay him any mind, and walked into the subway terminal.
Prospect-union station was just a few stops from Chinatown. The train was crowded by the late rush hour. I watched the colours streak across the subway window to take my mind off of the thick musk of mixed body odours and recycled air.
“Prospect-union station is next, Prospect-union,” a female recording announced. The subway slowed as it approached the station before jerking to a stop. The doors played their three-note tune and slid open. I let go of the st
eel pole I had anchored myself to. The mob began to smash against me as I tried to leave.
“Hey ass hole, watch where you're standing.” “Get the fuck out of my way, idiot,” they screamed as they blindly bumped into me.
I held my ground on the subway platform and the mass of people slowly disappeared through stairways and broken escalator exits. As the crowd faded I spotted a girl that stood on the other end of the platform. She was the only person, other than myself, who did not leave the platform or get on to the subway. She stood just far enough for me to be unable to clearly see her face. The train began to leave as she began to walk towards me; strands of her long black hair blew across her face, and I was left unable to recognize her even as she drew closer. Though she seemed more concerned about the way she was walking, her eyes affixed to the ground. She only shot quick glances at me to ensure that she was still going the right direction.
She took careful calculative movements as if she were walking through some tripwire minefield. The train finished pulling away and the light gust died, though loose strands of hair still clung to her face. She was five or six steps away from me, still staring at ground, drawing closer with careful steps.
She nearly collided with me but thankfully decided to looked up when my feet were within her vision.
“Hi Jo,” she said after brushing away her hair and smiling. It was Rean, and she knew that I hated being called Jo.
We left the station and I followed her lead.
“Where have you been? I haven't seen you the past few months,” I said.
“Oh you know, I like to disappear from time to time.”
“Yeah, you always had a knack for that.”
“Working huh?”
“Yep, retail with Berne and Aleksi.”
“Aleksi
