Chapter Text
|-Monday morning. Madison Square Park, 11 Madison Avenue, Manhattan, New York-| I still can't get that dream out of my head...
Mennie kell... (It needs to go...)
Mennie kell... (It needs to go...)
Mennie kell... (It needs to go...)
But it just... won't. No matter what I do. No matter what I try. Please let Jessica be able to purge the thought from my mind. I fucking hate it when I remember a dream like that. Why? Why does it have to be that? Why can't I forget it within minutes of waking just like every other dream I have? Why does it have to linger? Linger and taunt me?
I keep walking, trying and failing to purge those images from my mind. That sight of... Gold City... Nearly nude on my... No. Enough of this.
slap
I realize how ludicrous and uncouth that must've looked. But I really don't give a damn right now.
So now you understand. Good. Degenerate.
Oh shut the fuck up. We're not doing this now.
I stop that before it can even start. I'm not listening to it. Not for a second. Just focus on walking... I come to the reflecting pool and see a woman shorter than me: Shoulder-length auburn hair. Pale skin. Red shirt with a green sweater over it and a white blouse. Yup. That's Jessica. But who's that weird guy with a mullet next to he-
Oh wait. Right. That's Mark. Hey, wait. Why is Mark out here? Doesn't he have to work today? Guess he has it off... Okay then... Not gonna complain, really. I continue walking until I reach them, at which point they turn to face me, almost simultaneously.
"Ayy, yo, dat's her- Why ya wearin' dem glahsses?" Mark asks, not knowing that I do, in fact, wear glasses from time to time.
"Arrah, now, is that yer first question? Not a 'How's it goin'?' or 'It's been a grand while'?" Jessica responds, that soft accent managing to calm me.
"Aight, when ya put it dat way..." Mark sheepishly says as Jessica rises on her toes, pecking his cheek which causes him to blush. "Aight, real-lee... Ya goin' wit' the PDA out in public..." God, what I'd give to have what they do...
"Uh, yeah... I wear glasses. Ran out of contacts today. Don't really feel like getting more. Why are you here, Mark?" That question came out a bit more harsh than I intended. But Mark seems to take it in stride.
"Woooooow... Right fo' da jugulah, huh?" He responds before chuckling, which then gets Jessica chuckling, and then me. "I got a day off, see? Figured I'd hop in Jessica's ride 'cause I ain't got nuttin' better ta do. Not dat I'm complainin', nah. Can't tink of a betta way ta spend da day den wit' my two favorite girls in da whole damn city."
That... That makes me feel warm. Never thought Mark would view me so highly. I'll take the compliment though. I... I could use it right now.
"Oh... Whisht now, will ya." Jessica says, lightly slapping Mark on the shoulder, something that only makes his blush deepen. Jezus...
"A fashion show? Gawd dammit. Dat's a perfec' oppohtoonity fo' ya ta show da whole damn city whaddaya can do wit' dat camera o' yours, Kati." Mark says, which reminds me of that... new Randy relayed to me.
"It would be... If I was allowed to bring my camera." I respond, watching his face go from triumphant to dumbfounded. Which then turns to anger.
"WHAT?! Dey ain't lettin' ya take pitchas? Ya fuhgeddaboudit! Ya fuhkin' kiddin' me? Dey outta dey fuhkin' minds? What kinda dumb shee-it dey pullin'?" He starts to go off, catching a few passerby's attention. Until Jessica manages to get things under wrap.
"Ah, now, now... just breathe, love. Breathe easy." Her words manage to get Mark to breathe, at which point she turns to me. "So why not, aye? Why not let the lads from outside get on with their snapping" "Randy didn't say. All he told me is that the organizers have it covered. Not a really popular move with anyone." I respond, not wanting to remember this. Why? Just why? It's so stupid. So unbelievably stupid.
"Ah, let's change the tune a bit, shall we? When's the fashion show, now? Any tickets to be had? And if there are, are they costing a pretty penny?" Jessica starts asking, deftly shifting the tone as she said she would.
"It's on the 23rd. So ten days. As for tickets... Nem tudom. (Don't know.) Haven't really had a chance to look. Only found out about this yesterday." I respond, not knowing how they'll take it. I gauge it as well enough, but there is that lingering thought in the back of my mind.
"Dis Randy goon couldn't told ya 'bout dis sooner? Whassamatta wit' 'im, what was duh fuhkin' plan?" Mark starts, annoyance evident in his voice.
"Guess he wanted to have outright confirmation that Gold will have a spot on the runway before telling us." I answer. Guess I'll need to sort this out with him one-on-one.
We keep walking as we talk, going in a direction that I think will take us to Union Square. The buildings here look like the ones surrounding Union Square.
"So, he wants ta bring some weirdo from Quibeck, huh? An' Gold City, she know dis guy?" Mark asks, voice tinged with confusion.
"Yeah. Apparently he's a designer she's been wanting to work with for a while." I respond, still processing that information from yesterday. A Québécois designer? Guess Randy has friends everywhere if he's bringing in Gold City from Japan and Brouillard down from Montreal. "Very well known in Montreal. I'm just as surprised that Randy knows him. Though, hindsight..." I start taking note of the surrounding buildings as my voice trails off. Yeah, we're definitely close to Union Square. I can see the Greenmarket. Wonder if I can convince them to try some kimchee... Wouldn't that be something? The two palest people I know chowing down on some fermented cabbage and raddish. But as I'm about to bring it up, something catches my eye. It's an odd scene, a group of people all looking in one, singular direction. As if they're focused on one person. Why is this making a pit form in my stomach? Why do I feel dread right now? We keep walking some more, and I get a better picture: They're looking at her. Oh god... Oh no...
The crowd that's gathered is trying to not make it obvious that they are all staring at Gold City. Not that it matters. She probably already knows she has eyes on her. She has that kind of sixth sense. Natural for someone in her position. She's by the flagstaff, trying to not let the pressure get to her. I know she's used to this kind of thing back in Tokyo, but this is New York City. Population may be smaller by several orders of magnitude, but this is a multi-cultural city. Gossip will spread like wildfire. And for the famous? For celebrities like Gold City? I gotta do something. I see her get up and start moving, people within the crowd turning their heads to follow her as she moves. I'm seeing a variety of people, but it's mostly men that are watching. I'm not liking this. Not at all.
I break off from Mark and Jessica, something that they don't notice and make a b-line for Gold. She cannot be in a situation like that. Not with the kind of men that I saw staring at her. I'm not trusting any of this. I see her over by Engel Plaza, making me quicken my pace, wanting to reach her before anyone else. But I don't. She stops, or rather, is stopped by somebody else. I can feel my heart pulse in my chest, the rate of beats increasing every second. But as I close the distance, I can tell that it's not a guy who's stopped her. It's an older woman. And a child...
Oh... Well... This has gotten interesting. Guess the kid wants an autograph? But going off of Gold's body language... She doesn't exactly seem comfortable. I think I can still help out here. I slow my approach, but I'm still walking over to her. I eventually get close enough to hear what's being said, because there is a conversation taking place.
"Would... Would it be..."
"It's alright, sweetie. No need to be shy." "Really, there isn't."
Poor kid. Heart's probably racing just thinking about what they're gonna say to Gold. Do they want an autograph? A picture? Who knows. Only the kid.
"But, uh... I..." I hear the kid stutter as I finally reach Gold City. Immediately, I manage to find some words that I think will get us out of this situation. Save us all from embarrassment.
"If it's an autograph, then we'll have to disappoint. Have to go through her manager for that, otherwise we'd be here all day and get nothing done. Sorry, kiddo." I say, catching everyone's attention. I can see the look on the kid's face, how her eyes start dimming as she realizes that this opportunity will pass. That is... until her mother decides to chime in.
"Oh, well, that certainly makes some sense. Come on, sweetie, we'll have another chance if we see her again." The woman says as she takes her daughter's hand. They then start to walk away, but the kid gives Gold one last look, to which she responds with a small wave, a gesture that brings some light back into the young girl's eyes. Gold then turns to me, face slightly red from the experience.
"Uh, thanks for that. I... I didn't quite know what to say. I didn't want to disappoint her, but as you said, if I started giving out autographs because people asked, we'd get nothing done for the year." She says, ears flattening against the top of her head as she speaks. It's cute, in a humorous way. But then I remember that dream... Nem tudok a szemébe nézni... (I can't look her in the eyes...) I quickly avert my gaze, trying to not make it obvious that I'm avoiding eye contact.
"I'm just glad it was a kid that started talking to you. Do you know how many men were looking your way?" I respond, knowing how she might answer, still trying to avoid those pale blue eyes of hers.
"I know. I saw them. I'm glad it was that girl, too." She responds, confirming some suspicions. "I take it she was a fan?" I then ask, also knowing what Gold's answer will be.
"Yeah. Said she wants to be as pretty as me and head down the runway when she grows up." Gold says, eyes now looking off in the direction the girl's mother took her. "I hope she does. And I hope that... she can deal with it better than I can."
As I formulate my response, just about to get the words out, I feel someone tug at my shirt. That's a no-go. A big no-go. But as I'm about to turn around and smack whoever decided to lay hands on me, I hear Mark's voice.
"Holy shiiiit, dis took longer than it needed ta. Don'tcha eva disappear on us like dat again, ya hear? If ya gonna walk off, at least tell us." He says, annoyed that I didn't say a word before leaving him and Jessica. "One sec ya wit' us, den ya ain't. We went up an' down Broadway lookin' fo' ya. Couldn't find ya no-where. What's the fuhkin' reason ya gotta just poof like dat, huh?"
"Uh... Hello there." Gold says, walking out from behind me and greeting Mark, her ears now standing up straight as she tries to process his words and his accent. And just as Jessica manages to catch up, though she seems to have heard the entire exchange.
"Ah, well now... That's a bleedin' good reason, if ever there was one."
|-That afternoon. Barbounia, 250 Park Avenue South-|
"Well damn. Ya dat famous ova in Japan, huh? An' ya pulled half dat off hea in jus foah mont's? Fuhkin' fuggedaboutit. Dis Randy guy's givin' ya both a real beatdown." Mark says, that accent of his not being as difficult as I thought it would be to understand. Seems Kati isn't as truthful as she portrays. Not that I mind. I've been wanting to meet her friends since she mentioned them back in June. I've already become acquainted with Met. So Mark and Jessica were next. Naturally. I just wish it was under... better circumstances. Even here, I can feel people staring at me. Waiting for their chance to approach me. Ask for an autograph. A picture. Potentially even shoot their shot, so to say. I pray it's not that last option. Not with how often I...
"Ah, sure, he can't be too much trouble to work with, goin' by how we bumped into her today." Jessica says, both responding to Mark and cutting my thoughts off. Her accent... I thought it would be a bit more pronounced since she's from Limerick. But it's no bother. I like her demeanor. She reminds me a lot of Fine Motion. Wish that I had the chance to know her better. She was... a very nice person.
"We've been averaging around five shoots per month. So it's not too hard on us." I hear Kati say, her eyes flicking over to me as she speaks, but never settling. They dart away whenever I look at her. Something's wrong. I can tell. But what is it? I'll need to look more a bit later. For now, though...
"Yeah, it hasn't been nearly as hard as I thought it would be. When Tomo brought the idea up with me, the impression of Randy he gave was someone that of who puts his models and photographers through the gauntlet ten times over in a single week. But Randy is incredibly lenient with time. Far more than me and Kati would have ever thought." I start saying, reflecting on the past four months. I really have gotten halfway to what I have in Japan, haven't I? It's a lot to take in. Becoming so well known in such a short amount of time.
I take a deep breath, but I manage to make it subtle. Not noticeable. At least, that's the hope.
"As for the fame... Well... You probably saw the... situation I was in earlier." I look down at the plate in front of me after I say those words: A flatbread with mushroom paste. It's not bad. Quite good, actually. I take my eyes off it briefly to find Mark looking me up and down. Seems he still has questions.
"So, all dis fame an' modelin' shit aside: How ya like New Yawk? Can ya even compare it ta Tokyo? Betta? Woise?" He asks, wanting to know how I view the city. "Which boro is ya fav-o-rite?"
"It's quite nice. I'm partial to Manhattan, mostly because this has been where I've been staying. The city is a bit of a mix of Toronto and Tokyo. It's very interesting." I say, catching him by surprise. Seems Mark doesn't know.
"T-Toronto? What're we draggin' Canadeh inta dis for? I tawt ya wuz Jappaneeez? Aint youse?" He says, confusion drenching his voice as he speaks.
"Because I'm half-Canadian.? Because half of my childhood was spent in and around the Greater Toronto Area living in Oshawa.? Mon Père est un Québécois né et élevé en Ontario. (My father is Québécois who was born and raised in Ontario.) It's not that hard to understand." I respond, watching as Mark only becomes more confused.
"But yer mother's Japanese, isn't she?" Jessica then asks.
"Yes. She grew up in Monbetsu Town where I was born. It's up north in Hokkaido. Though... she herself wasn't born in Japan. She was born in Palermo while her parents were traveling through Europe in the '70s." I say, answering Jessica's question. Something that gets Mark's full attention.
"Oh shit, she was popped outta the womb in Palermo? E' di ccà ca veni la famigghia di me patri." I hear Mark say. My Italian is... lacking. So I don't quite know what he just said.
"Excuse me?" I ask, wanting some clarification on his words.
"My ol' man's whole family's straight outta Puh-lermo." He then says, something that then catches Kati's attention.
"Wait, I thought all of your family was from Palermo?" She asks Mark, getting a small glare from the man.
"Nah. Just my old man. Ma's from Saragusa. Ya know, Syracuse." He tells her, his face stern and cold before returning to that fiery aura I have seen so far. "Ti devi fari controllari a testa, Kati. La memoria ti putissi mancari."
"Oh yeah? Emlékeztess még egyszer, ki hív szlováknak? (Remind me again who keeps calling me Slovakian?)" Kati retorts, the more robust tones of Hungarian providing a distinct contrast to the melodious timbre of whatever Italian dialect Mark was speaking. It's a witty joust of words. One I wish I was able to join in. If only...
"Aight, I guess dat wraps up dis whole shindig. Ya comin' back wit us, Kati? Or ya gonna jaw 'bout bidness wit Gold City?" Mark says as we exit the restaurant. He's blunt. He's brash. He's unapologetic. But it's endearing. So endearing. I can see why Kati is friends with him. That bluntness makes him honest. It's not always pleasant, but it's welcome.
"Uh, you two go ahead. I'll swing by tonight if you've got the time." Kati tells him, her eyes going between Mark and Jessica as she speaks.
"Ah, sure, isn't there always time we can find for ya?" Jessica responds before she then turns to me. "Ah, you're grand to tag along as well, Gold City. So you are. I wouldn't be mindin' at all, not a bit." "I appreciate the offer but I will be busy tonight." I tell her, not wanting to get her hopes up. Maybe another time...
"Ah, it's grand." She says as she turns to face Mark. "Ah, come on now, let's be headin' home, handsome.' She and Mark then start heading of in one direction hand in hand, leaving me and Kati to ourselves as people walk by us, some going into the restaurant we just exited.
"You never said they were a couple." I say as I rest my eyes on her.
"I... I did.?" She responds, confused by my words. Did she actually mention that? Or is she imagining things.
"You did? I don't remember it." I then say, confident in saying that she didn't mention this. "They do make for a good couple though."
"Yeah... They do..." I hear Kati then says, voice trailing off, getting quieter. "Wish I had something like that..." She murmurs, thinking I can't hear it. I can very much hear it. But I won't press the matter. It's clearly a sensitive topic for her. I don't want to make it worse for her. I can't help but recognize just how lonely she must feel. Lonely and jealous.
'Wish I had something like that...'
I could tell from her cadence that it was serious. I can tell from her tone that it was real. I can tell from the rise and fall in her voice that it was genuine. Of course, I'm not helping matters. She still locks up every so often. Gets trapped within her own head every now and then. And I know what she's thinking about.
She's thinking about me.
I wish I could be more open with her. I want to have that. But I can't. Not at this stage, at least. It will only complicate our working relationship. It would make us both sloppy. It would make us unfocused. It would be unprofessional. It would be uncouth. Unnatural if the little oni and nain rouge on my shoulders are to be believed. Not to mention that I am nowhere near close to accepting my bisexuality. I still need to understand it better before I can act on it. Well... If I can act on it. So I resign myself to this... pining. Pining for something I don't fully understand. Longing for a woman who's heart I'll... most likely have to break when summer returns. I don't want to. Goddesses know that I don't. But I need to be realistic.
"You have some... very interesting friends, Kati." I say, breaking both the tension and uneasy silence that had fallen between us. it still surprises me just how loud it can get, even in a bustling city like New York.
"Yeah, I guess I do... But I'm happy for it. Life is better with them in it." She responds, volume coming back to her voice. that's good to hear. We're talking about something that means a lot to her. Her friends.
"I can tell. You seemed a lot more relaxed with them. That's a good thing. It means you trust them." I say, recalling how she seemed more at ease when Mark and Jessica were here. Now that they're not, that sense of comfort and safety is gone. I felt that same way around Masaru and Yuta. Masaru, my trainer. A man that was like a second father to me. Yuta, Team Spica's trainer. More like an older brother. I'm always half-tempted to reach out to either of them. Just to... hear their voices so I can steady myself. Same with Helios, Palmer and Jordan. What I'd give to talk to each of them again. Even if it was for a few minutes.
"So, are we going to linger here or are we heading to a second location?" I ask, getting out of my own head and turning to Kati. She turns to face me, but her eyes do not meet mine. I'm still in her head. To what extent, I don't know. But it's enough to make her avoid eye contact.
"Uh... I guess we could head back to your place. But I can't stay long. I did kinda... say I'd be in Brooklyn tonight." She responds, voice trembling ever so slightly as she speaks.
"That's fine. I don't intend to keep you long, anyway. I just... enjoy your company, is all. I want to make the most of it while I'm in America." I then say, not intending to make Kati blush. But she does anyway. I guess some things can't be helped. Poor thing. We then start walking, heading back towards Broadway which we turn onto. Before long, we reach her car, parked not too far from an apartment block on 6th Avenue.
We both get in and within seconds, we are heading to the Financial District. I sneak glances at Kati every so often, taking note on how her eyes are glues to the streets ahead of us. It's unsettling. Normally I feel so... seen with her. But this? Whatever was bothering her must really be serious. I'm tempted to ask what it is, yet at the same time, I feel like that would be pouring salt on the wound. But against my better judgement...
"You've been tense ever since we left Barbounia. Something wrong?" I ask, feeling a pit form in my stomach as the words escape my lips. Kati's eyes dart to me for the first time since she started driving, and when we hit a red light, she speaks up.
"It's, uh... It's nothing. Just didn't sleep well last night." I can tell that's a lie. It's obvious that's what it is. But I don't prod further. I entertain the lie. If for anything, than to save Kati's dignity.
"Anything I can suggest that might help? It most likely won't be much, but anything it better than nothing." I then say, wanting to help a woman that I've come to trust and view as a friend.
"I'm... open to ideas." She responds, voice trembling again, eyes never making contact with mine. "Well, back in Japan, whenever I had bouts of fitful sleep, my mother would have me take a warm bath. The heat of the water helps relax the muscles and ease any tension that you might have while the temperature will cause the body to cool off, which then leads to the brain telling you it's time to sleep. Maybe you could try that tonight when you get back to the Bronx." I say, watching her face close so I can gauge her reaction. "Green tea and valerian root can also help, if you're so inclined."
"Maybe... I'll try those tonight. See how they work." She responds, eyes now finally meeting mine for the first time today. It's brief, only a second or two, but it's enough for me to see the appreciation in those rich brown orbits. She then slows her car down again, and I notice that we're at Ocean Luxury. Guess this is where we part for the night. I unbuckle, step out, but before I head for the building...
"You don't... have to come in. This was enough." I say, leaning on her window which she rolled down. "More than enough, really. Considering what happened earlier."
"No, no. It's okay. You said you enjoy spending time with me and... I enjoy it too." She says as she unbuckles herself. She then steps out of the vehicle and we both make our way inside and up to my apartment.
Combien de temps peut la relation entre nous rester comme ça avant que quelque chose ne se brise inévitablement? (How long can the relationship between us stay like this before something inevitably breaks?)
|-That evening. 38th Sixth Apartments, 38 6th Avenue, Brooklyn-|
Chết tiệt... Những quảng cáo đó không hề đùa... (Holy shit... Those ads were not kiddin) These headphones are so fuckin good. Just what I was hopin for. A big ole pair of over-ears with good sound quality made specifically for umas. Son tanto contento. (I am very happy.) But I've got to stop the music. Don't want to repeat what happened a few weeks ago. Still can't believe I did that again. Let my music keep playin, makin me miss out on Phantom Witch. Dio, son un mona. (God, am I an idiot.) Doesn't matter though, I'm almost at their buildin. Weird... Thought Kati would be here before me. Though with that bein said...
"Met! Da questa parte! Brutto coglione! (Met! Get ova heah! Ya fuhkin' asshole!)" These are noise- cancellin headphones... Địa ngục... (How the hell...) I quickly give Mark an Iberian slap before I respond, takin off my headphones as I do so.
"Vaffanculo anche a te, Mark! (Well fuck you too, Mark!)" I shout, watchin as he starts laughin. Fuckin Sicilian asshole. Why do I even tolerate him?
"Tipiche buffonate veneziane. Andiamo. Porta qui il tuo culo alto. (Typical Venetian shenanigans. C'mon. Get ya long keister ovah heah, ya big lug.)" He shouts in response. I'll show him how Venetians roll. Papa didn't raise no bitch.
"Ci sei dentro, stronzo. (You're in for it now, asshole.)" I yell as I quickly find a crosswalk and make it to the other side of the street. Upon seein this, Mark starts shittin bricks. As he should. He tries to make a break for his apartment buildin, but I'm an uma. I'm faster than him. All six feet and ten inches of me. Like a proper destrier. I quickly close whatever gap Mark was hopin to create and grab him by the shirt, liftin him with no problems whatsoever.
"Ehi! EHI! METTIMI GIÙ, FIGLIO DI PUTTANA! (Ayy! HEY! PUT ME DOWN, YA SONOVABITCH!)" He shouts, tryin to wrest himself free from my grip.
"No. No penso che ło farò. Penso che te porterò fin al pavimento e nel tuo appartamento. (No. I don't think I will. I think I'll carry you all way the up to your floor and into your apartment.)" I say, bustin out the Venetian as a way to pour salt into the wound as I walk towards the elevator, Mark in hand, passers-by scratchin their heads at the sight. I enter the lift, punch the floor, and start headin up.
"Jessica se la farà da ridere quando la te vedarà. (Jessica is gonna laugh her ass off when she sees you.)"
knock
knock
knock
"Who's there at the door, now? Is that you, Kati?" I hear from the other side.
"Special delivery. One Sicilian asshole for a kind-hearted Irish woman." I respond, gettin a chuckle out of Jessica.
"Aww, COME ON! Dis shit ain't funn-AY!" Mark protests. But there's not much he can really do here. I hear shufflin on the other side, and then the door opens, at which point Jessica starts laughin her ass off. I then hoist Mark up so that we're at eye level.
"Te l'ho cazzo detto. (I fuckin told you.)" I say to him before I mercifully let him go. He then walks into the apartment, and I follow. "I take it Kati isn't here?"
"Nah, she's on her way dough. Hung out wit' her goilfren'. Had some quality time, ya know?" Mark responds. He's really gotta stop callin Gold City Kati's girlfriend. Not because it will never happen. I can tell that the two of them hookin up is practically inevitable. Mark needs to stop sayin it... because they're not ready for that to happen. Gold and Kati have a lot to work through in their own heads before they can consider datin. Mark and Jessica aren't seein what I am. They're not as observant as I am. They see Kati bein a down bad mess and Gold City bein this stoic woman who pays it no heed. But I see the real thing here. I saw it when I ran into them in Central Park on Friday. Every single fidget. Every single glance.
"Well, when you put it that way... How long until she gets here?" I ask, wantin to not focus on my best friend's mental torture at the moment and enjoy my night.
"Ah, she can't be too far off now. I'm thinkin' she was just about to be crossin' the Brooklyn Bridge the last time she said a word." Jessica says, voice carryin through the air. Guess we just have to wait then. In the meantime...
I reach into my bag and grab both my testosterone and antiestrogen. I waltz over into the kitchen and grab a glass, fillin it up with water before I pop some of the pills into my hands before knockin them back. They go down a lot harder than they should've, but it's fine. I've had worse. I walk back into the livin room, eyein Mark with some insidious intent. I could... But I won't. I've already embarrased him tonight. Don't need to do anythin else.
"I guess we're doin pizza tonight?" I ask, noticin the lack of food. Mark spins around, eyes gleamin.
"Ay, foah pies from Patsy's, see? I should prolly head ova dere now to get da pies. Dey should be done by now, ya know?" He says, walkin over to the door when he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. "Huh... Guess Kati hadda same kinda idea. She's grabbin' da pizza."
"Did you be tellin' her what we were after gettin'?" Jessica asks Mark, eyes never leavin him for a second.
"I mean, yeah, I did it. But I didn't tink she'd actually grab it on her way, ya know?" He says, glancin back down to his phone. "She's on Flatbush. 'Bout ta make a right onto Sixt'. I'm goin' down dere ta help haul dem pies upstairs." But as he's about to head down, I start walkin.
"No, no. I'll head down. You stay here." I say as I open the door, makin my way down the hall to the elevator.
"You... didn't really have to do this, Met." Kati says as I grab the pies.
"Mark ordered four large pizzas. You're delusional if you think you can carry all of this on your own." I tell her, watchin her fac closely. Somethins wrong. I can tell. It's in her eyes. She looks more tired than usual. And this is Kati I'm talkin about. She is a woman who regularly deprives herself of sleep. She can't help it. But this? This is different. Don't know how Mark and Jessica didn't see it earlier today. But then again, they don't see the things I do. And from the way they were talkin, seems like Gold City became a part of their little outin. But I don't make this known. I don't need Kati to be a mess right now. I will, however, try to pice together why she looks worse for wear.
I hoist the pies up, carryin them as we both head back into the buildin. Once inside, we make a b-line for the elevator. Kati presses the button and we step inside once it gets to the bottom floor. The rise is slow, givin me time to put the pieces together:
Kati seems to be on edge. As if waitin for somethin that won't actually come. What is it?
The bags under her eyes are bigger than usual. Tells me she hasn't been gettin enough sleep. That, or it hasn't been pleasant.
She saw Gold City today. Wasn't planned, but it still happened. I noticed how she is whenever she's around. Struggles to keep herself together. Her mind will go off. Her cheeks will flush read as blood rushes to her brain. I don't want to be makin assumptions right now, but if I know Kati as well as I think I do, then... Well...
She must've dreamed about fuckin Gold City.
Not a pleasant thought. Not in the slightest. But I've known Kati for over twenty years. There are only two people who know her better than me. Her dad and Rose. And I know that they would both reach similar conclusions. Provided that they knew what was happenin and were payin attention. But enough of that. I don't want to think about it. Not now, at least. She could use the rest. The distraction. Hopefully we can give it to her.