Chapter Text
|-Monday morning. Noonan Towers, 929 Woodycrest Avenue, the Bronx, New York-|
I need something that can prevent those thoughts. Every last one of them. Nem tudom, meddig bírnám ki, ha nem. (I don't know how long I can last if I don't.) So I've turned to Met in the vain hope that whatever insanity he has planned will be able to distract me during the day. Napközben. (During the day.) Gold City texted me earlier this morning letting me know that she wants to head out somewhere later tonight. Staten Island. Miért pont ott kellett lennie? (Why did it have to be there of all places?) God I hate Staten Island. So naturally... I agreed. Because of course I did. How could I possibly say no to a woman like Gold City? I hate how much of an iron-clad grip she has on my psyche. She's not even trying. She... She doesn't even know, does she?
Here we go again...
Oh, fuck off.
How undignified. How rude. How disrespectful
Tartogasd. Talán a nap kitisztítja a fejét. (Save it. Perhaps the day can clear her head.) sigh
I'm already dressed, that black shirt with the camera on it, my usual pair of black Converses. My brown jacket and an old pair of blue jeans. Probably had them since sophomore year of high-school. Surprised they still fit me. They're beat to hell and back, full of holes. But not torn anywhere. At least, anyehere I can easily see. I guess that's a good sign that they've still got some life in them. I stand up and start pacing around my apartment's living room. I should really start looking for a new place. Not a lot of good memories here. Mostly bad. That one stain is still there from when she was in my life. The less said about her the better. I notice another stain on the floor by the fridge. Looks like some old soda. Met most likely. Wouldn't be surprised if this was from when he first came to visit after I moved in. Damn, that was... over four years ago now. After I dropped out of NYU. Man... Wonder where I'd be if I had kept up with my academics. Guess some people aren't cut out for college. Wish I hadn't learned that the hard way. What would I be doing now if I stayed? Actually had clarity of mind and didn't get so hung up on Rose being on the West Coast? Sok kérdés van ott... (Lots of questions there...)
I continue this pacing when I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and see that Met's texted me. He's here already?
'I'm outside. Ready to head into Yonkers whenever you are.'
So we're heading home? That's his great plan? I will never understand how his mind works.
'Yonkers? I thought we were heading to the aquarium? And where are we even going? You're not getting ápa involved, are you?' I ask him, wondering how and why he changed his plans.
'No. Your dad isn't getting involved. Besides, you know where I'm takin you. Now get your ass down here signorina (little lady).'
'You're such an asshole.' I text back, mind in full of anger.
'And yet you wouldn't change a thing.' I slide my phone back into my pocket after reading that. Best to get downstairs and outside. Meet Met where he stands so he can pull whatever craziness is on his mind. I just hope it can keep me distracted from... whatever mental anguish I'm, going through right now. Isten tudja, hogy szükségem van rá. (God knows I need it.)
"God Met, can you turn this down?" I tell Met as we pass by University of Mount Saint Vincent. Seeing the sign makes me think back on the last time I was in Yonkers. Six months ago... Damn. That was for ápa's birthday. Six months. Has it really been that long?
"Oh please. Halloween is right around the corner, Kati. What better way to get in the mood then by blastin some Venom? Maybe I'll put on some Mortician for ya, too. Most brutal band in the world." He says as he cranks the volume even louder. Seggfej. (Asshole.) I just sigh and look out the window. A lot has changed here in Yonkers ever since me and Met graduated and started living in Gotham: A lot of independent small businesses have come and go. New highrises were built where older houses were torn down. Good 'ole Lincoln High got renovated multiple times. But I know one thing that's stayed the same: Ápa. Speaking of whom...
"Hey, wait... Why are you going down Franklin Avenue? I thought you said we weren't gonna botherápa." I say, the observation making my annoyance from earlier return. I don't want him to see how much I'm struggling right now. He doesn't need to worry about me again. Not after... Igazából nem. Jobb, ha nem gondolok rá. (Actually, no. Better that I don't think about it.) I want to forget that she existed.
"Would you relax? We're not gonna bother your dad. Though you probably should do that at some point. When was the last time to spent the day with him?" Met responds as we pass by ápa's house. Looks like he's raking some leaves, but he's taking a small breather. Meaning he does see me and Met pass him. He gives a confused wave, and so do I. I then turn back to Met.
"Last time was... Bassza meg. (Fuck.) His birthday. That was six months ago. Micsoda lány vagyok... (Some daughter I am...)" I start feeling really bad after saying that out loud. As if I wasn't before.
"You should probably fix that." Is what I hear Met say next.
"Not my fault I've been busy like a bee for almost five months straight." I respond, looking back out the window. We've already turned out of Ludlow by this point, though we are still in the suburbs. Looks like we're heading downtown. But what could be there?
"That may be true, but I find it very hard to believe that you haven't had time to at least talk to the man." Met says, side-eyeing me while still driving. How he hasn't gotten into an accident doing something like this still astounds me. But here we are.
"With everything I've been having to do? Yes. It is true." I respond, eyes going back to the road ahead of us.
After a few more minutes of Met's erratically controlled driving, we reach Nodine Hill. Some very nostalgic memories here. Think we're close to Rose's house. I wonder how she's been...
"You're thinkin about Rose again." I hear Met say, getting my attention. "Am not." I respond. But Met always comes prepared.
"Nhảm nhí. (Bullshit.) I can tell when you're thinkin about your exes by the look in your eyes. Those rims and lenses won't help you. They don't cover your irises. And they sure as fuck don't hide your face. Not from me. You're thinkin about the past, Kati. This time... it was Glass Rose. Don't even try to lie to me." Met goes. I try to formulate a response, but by the time I open my mouth, the music has changed.
What even is this? It sounds like that weird punk he likes, but...
"Blitzkid... Nosferatu... What kind of childish and immature-" Met cuts me off before I can even finish the thought.
"Don't even think about callin Blitzkid childish. You want someone to blame for this bein in my playlist, blame Jeremy. Take it up with him." He responds as we pass by the middle school. Looking at the gym makes me think back on the first major thing me and Rose did when we became a thing. God, that dance was so corny and cringe. Thinking about it makes me feel embarrassed. And yet I wouldn't change it for anything. It doesn't take long for us to get onto Hillcrest, and then Rumsey from there. Wherever Met is taking us, it sure does feel familiar. Very familiar. It's not... Nem. Kizárt dolog. (No. There's no way.)
"You're not taking us... there, are you?" I ask him, realizing that we're heading to Tibbetts Brook Park. "I can neither confirm nor deny." Is the only response I get. It also gives me my answer.
"You are... such an asshole." I tell him as I look out on the road. We're on Cross Country Parkway by this point, though Midland Avenue is right there and we do exit onto it. It does not take us long to reach Teresa Avenue after that. He was right: I knew exactly where he was taking us.
"God, I can't believe this place is still here." I say as I walk around the old "clubhouse". A lot of good memories were made here. Me, Met, Rose and whatever little friend group decided to come with us at the moment. But at the end of the day, it was just the three of us. Three little misfits: One loser lesbian, a warhorse that had to deal with gender dysphoria and a racer who's heart would literally stop in it's tracks if she tried running on the turf. I look at one of the old posters Met made. A little tribute to one of his favorite bands.
"How has this not rotten away yet?" I ask as I look at the sheet of white construction paper, starting at the top. 'Exodus' with that vibrantly red logo outlined in black and white with Met's crude drawings of all the members.
"Ask your dad. He and Rose's parents pay a fuck ton of money to keep this spot from gettin overgrown." He says as he leans on the wall next to me. Didn't know ápa still kept in touch with Matt and Tracey. I should ask him how they're doing next time I talk to him.
"They are? Why? Why would they... Why would they care about this?" I then ask, raising my eyebrow as Met shifts his massive frame while I press my finger onto the poster. Someone laminated it. So that it can be more hardy against the elements. Smart idea.
"Because they know how much this place means to us." He responds, ears twitching as if he heard something outside. It was probably just a squirrel though, judging by how those black spikes on top of his head relax after a few seconds.
"Does Rose know about this? Do you two even still talk?" Is my next question.
"No. No ghe l'ho ancora dito. (No. I haven't told her yet.) And yeah, we still talk. Why wouldn't we? I imagine she'll be just as surprised as you when I get to it. Mark my words." He says as he picks up an old trophy from a nearby shelf. Looks like it was from that mathathon that happened during freshman year. Spring semester I think. "I'm gonna try and get her back here. In New York. She told me she's plannin on takin a gap year from UCLA. Wants a break from all the studyin. Can't say I blame her. And if I do manage to pull her back from California... This is the first place I'm takin her."
"Neither would I. Paleontology is no joke." I say, heart jumping at the prospect of seeing her again. We ended things not too long after she had moved out west, but she still wanted to be friends. Still wanted to be in my life. Ezért mindig értékelni fogom. Mindenért. Az összes emlék, amit készítettünk. Jó és rossz. (I'll always appreciate her for that. For everything. All the memories we made. Good and bad.)
I walk over to Met, taking note of how many things are in here: Make shift trophies, odd bits and bobs Met would collect. Rose's rock collection. Surprised nobody has touched that in close to five years. But the one thing that stands out to me the most is one of the photos. It's framed, probably as the date on the back. I pick it up, and the first thing I notice is Met. I don't even recognize him like this. It's hard to believe that the girl in the middle of this photo would become the man standing right next to me in ten years. The facial hair, the piercings, the tattoo, but most of all: The ear ornament. His little lac birds on that cross. But it's on the left ear in the picture, not on his right like how I'm used to now.
I flip the frame over, and just as I suspected, there's a date on the back.
'October 20th, 2015. Three little idiots. Inseparable till the end. - Glass Rose'
I feel myself choke up a bit, a tear forming in my eye. A lot of life has happened in the decade since this photo was taken. Me and Rose becoming a couple, the three of us graduating high-school. Rose taking me down to Kentucky to see her sister run in the Derby. Rose then heading to Los Angeles. Met properly starting his transition, anya... Anya... Annyira hiányzol. (I miss you so much.) My breathing becomes shallow as the memories start coming back to me, and Met notices. He doesn't say anything, but he does place his hand on my shoulder. It doesn't really help. The tears start falling anyway. So I do the only thing I know will help. I turn to face met and bury my face in his chest. It's not heavy, but I feel my cheeks get wetter and wetter. A result of all the memories that come flooding back.
After a few minutes of standing like this, Met pushes me away. It's not malice. That much I can tell. He walks over to a stereo system. Looks familiar. Think I might've put it in here around freshman year of high-school. Met plugs his phone into it, and music starts playing. I just hear bass at first, but it gradually ramps up.
"Might not be your thing, but it's better than nothin." He says as he looks at me, his white shirt marked by patches of grey from my wet face.
It's... oddly calming. Didn't expect that from this kind of music. Seems Met didn't either.
"Or maybe it is your thing... Didn't know you would vibe so well with Samhain..." He says, laughing slightly as the words come out. I guess he's right. I don't mind this. Kinda like it, actually. I'll have to see what I can find later on. But that can wait. For now... I think I'll let whatever this song is ease my mind. Even if it's about a fallen angel trying to bring about Armageddon.
|-That afternoon. 95 Franklin Avenue, Yonkers-|
"I cannot believe you talked me into this." I say as Met pulls his car into ápa's driveway.
"He's your dad, Kati. You need to see him more often. You know how lonely he gets out here." Met responds, side-eyeing me as he puts his car in park. I then take a look around the area: This place is nice. It's where I grew up. No ugly or horrible memories. Well, except for.... one memory. I hesitate to unbuckle, mostly because I don't want to bother ápa. I look around the yard. Seems he's got all the leaves he could before more started falling down. Met's the first to get out of the car. I guess I have to follow now. Just so that he doesn't get into any trouble. I quickly unbuckle, open the door and nearly fall out because of how tall his car is. I keep forgetting that Met is a giant. He turns around just in time to catch me, though.
"Careful there, cô bé. (little girl.) Wouldn't want you to get hurt." He says, teasing me for my clumsiness.
"Oh, fuck off." I tell him in response.
"Oof. Imagine if your dad heard you say that." He then says, those hetero-chromatic eyes of his giving me that very familiar piercing gaze. We walk up to the front door of the old house and Met rings the door bell. When did ápa get a Ring? Doesn't matter. Met rings it and we wait for a few seconds. Which then turns into a whole minute.
"Guess he must be out back. Stay here." Met says as he turns on his heel. Though, he doesn't make it very far.
"Oh. So it was your car I saw pass by earlier. Wasn't expecting you to drop by though." The sound ofápa's voice gets me to turn around as well. How does he manage to look that much older in only six months? Miféle átokkal van dolga? (What kind of curse is he dealing with?)"
"Hey Pat. Been a while." Met says before moving slightly. "Brought someone with me."
"Well, lookit that. Kis virágom. (My little flower.)" He says, Ohio accent slipping out and face lighting up as he processes what's in front of him. He drops what's in his hands, walks over and pulls me into a bear hug. Utálom, amikor ezt csinálja. (Hate when he does this.) It's somehow worse then Met.
"Oh...kay- Can't breathe..." I whimper out as ápa lets go slightly. It's just enough for me to get air into my lungs, but he's still got a tight hold around me.
"Oh, uh... My bad, ya know?" He says, finally letting go of me. He then gives Met a two-finger salute as he goes to gather what he dropped, gesturing for us to follow him inside.
I take in the smell as I walk through the door. Paprikás. Hmm... Guess ápa just had lunch when we arrived. Seems like Met smells it too.
"Oh shit. Is that chicken paprikash I smell? Got any left?" He asks, making a b-line for the kitchen. "Only a little bit. Save some for Kati. Well-" Ápa turns to face me. "Kérsz belőle? Éhes vagy? Nem baj, ha nemet mondasz. (Do you want any? Are you hungry? It's okay to say no.)"
"Jól esne egy kis csirke paprikás. (I could go for some chicken paprikash.)" I tell him, which causes him to turn around and yell to Met.
"Save her some." He shouts before getting a response.
"No bisogna dirmelo do volte. (Don't have to tell me twice.)" Met shouts back, followed by the sounds of silverware and plates. While that is happening, ápa turns to face me again.
"Szóval, hogy vagy, kis virágom? (So, how have you been, my little flower?)" He asks, brown eyes looking me up and down as he waits for my answer.
"Voltam már jobban is. De nem rossz. (I've been better. But not bad.)" I tell him before asking the question in return. "És mi van önökkel? Hogy vagy? (What about you? How have you been?)"
"Ó, csak a szokásos. Nincs miről beszélni. (Oh, just the usual. Not much to talk about.)" He says as he takes a deep breath. "Kitakarítottam a kertet. Előkészítettem márciusra, amikor újra el tudom ültetni a dolgokat. De meg kell bizonyosodnom róla, hogy az ültetvényesek tiszták. Azok a levelek szúnyogfészkeket hoznak létre, ha nem vigyázok. (Cleaned up the garden. Got it ready for March when I can start planting things down again. But I do need to make sure the planters are clear. All those leaves will end up creating mosquito nests if I'm not careful.)" Oh right, he gardens. Forgot about that. One of the many things anya showed him.
"Még mindig kertészkedsz? (You still garden?)" I say in a teasing manner. It gets both of us to chuckle before ápa speaks up again.
"Hé, ne kopogj, amíg meg nem kóstoltad. (Hey, don't knock it till you try it.)" He retorts. "Akarsz valakit hibáztatni? Keress egy képet az anyádról. (You want someone to blame? Find a picture of your mother.)" Just mentioning her is enough to dampen the mood slightly. Something that ápa immediately picks up on. "Sajnálom, én... Enned kéne. A Met vár. (I'm sorry, I... You should probably go eat. Met's waiting.)" He says as he sets the rake down and heads into the kitchen. I follow suit, or rather, I would. But one of the pictures on the wall catches my eye. I walk over to it and realize that it's of me an anya, Must've been taken in 2015 during one of our yearly summer trips up in the Adirondacks, judging by how long my hair is in the photo. This was next to Sacandanga Lake. Fun times. Fun... I walk into the kitchen and find Met sat at the table, the chair underneath him barely holding his weight as he shifts around. Just the sound alone... Enélkül is boldogulnék. (I could really do without that.)
"Took you long enough. Here. Saved you some." He says as he slide a plat to the opposite side of him. I walk over and sit down. I grab a fork and knife and start eating, savoring the flavor as it hits my tongue.
"This is how your mom made it, right Pat?" Met asks after he swallows his last bite. Ápa looks at him and then starts thinking, judging by the look in his eyes behind those glasses.
"Uh... My dad, actually. And he learned it from his aunt." He then looks right at me. "One day I'm gonna show you. After that, you're getting this old house and I move back to Cincinnati."
"Okay then... That's a bit much, don't you think?" I ask, a bit overwhelmed by what I just heard. He's really just gonna... Nekem adod a házat? Aztán visszamész Ohióba? (Give the house to me? And then head back to Ohio?) I don't know if I can accept that. That's... That's too much. But I don't bring that up. I don't want to dampen the mood.
"Damn. Just... Wow. You're givin this old place to her and then fuckin off back to Ohio? Vorìa poder pianificar cusì. (Wish I could plan like that.)" Met says, somewhat voicing my own thoughts, but in his own, blunt way. I expect ápa to feel indignant at the words, but he just laughs.
"You kiddin' me? That was always the plan. Only reason I've stayed in New York is 'cause of you and Kati. And you're both grown-ups now, ya know?" He says, still chuckling as the words come out. I feel a knot form in my stomach as I process it. He want so give me this old place... Nem tudom, mit kellene éreznem ezzel kapcsolatban. (I don't know how I should be feeling about that.) It... It just doesn't feel right. This house? Being mine?I focus back on the paprikás in front of me, hoping that it can purge that thought out of my head. Seems to work, if temporarily...
"Really? That's where this has been the whole time? I was wonderin where the hell it went." Met says as he looks at his first vest. I'm surprised that it's still intact, if torn in a few places. Met then brings the ratty old denim up to his face ans smells it. "Eugh... Điều đó không đặc biệt dễ chịu. (That is not particularly pleasant.)" He says as the aroma hits his nose.
"What'dja expect, Met? It's been up in that musty attic for like, ten years. Of course it's gonna smell bad." Ápa says as he judges Met's reaction. I'd be saying the same thing, honestly.
"You should probably wash that. Might have mold on it too..." I add, taking note on some of the splotches that dot the patches and bare denim.
"No shit... Thanks though. It's got a lot of sentimental value." Met says as he rolls up the vest, carrying it under his arm as he heads downstairs. This leaves just me and ápa again.
"Met mondta, hogy egy másik dögös modellel dolgozol. Hogy hívják? (Met tells me you're working with another hot model. What's her name?)" He asks, clearly wanting to open Pandora's Box. I take a deep breath, but don't answer immediately. Instead, I start walking... right into my old bedroom.Looks just like how I left it when I graduated high-school. It's so... meticulously clean. Ápa must come in regularly to tidy up. Make sure nothing's out of place. "Ó. Vigasztalást akartál, mielőtt elmondtad? Oké. Ezzel semmi gond. (Oh. Wanted some comfort before you told me? Okay. No problem with that.)" I hear him say as I sit down on my bed.
"Tudod, hogy nem szeretek a munkáról beszélni. (You know I don't really like talking abot work.)" I say, jesting in this moment, but... well, I guess I can spill some. "Gold City. Így hívják. Legnagyobb uma modell Japánban. A fele itt van New Yorkban, és csak június óta van a városban. (That's her name. Biggest uma model in Japan. Gotten to half of that here in New York and she's only been in the city since June.)" I watch as ápa takes a dumbfounded look onto his face.
"Japán? A fenébe is... Meddig dolgozol vele? Mikor volt az első lövés? (Japan? Well damn... How long are you working with her? When was the first shoot?)" He then asks, wanting to know more. "Egy éve. Az első forgatás egy héttel azután volt, hogy találkoztam vele. Hadd mutassam meg. (A year. The first shoot was a week after I met her. Let me show you.)" I say as I pull my phone out of my pocket. Ápa then sits next to me while I show him all the shoots we've done so far. Seems he's already taken a liking to her.
"Tudod, ahhoz képest, hogy Japán, tényleg úgy néz ki... Kaukázusi, mondjuk úgy. (You know, for being Japanese, she sure does look... Caucasian, let's just say.)" He says as a joke, laughing as the words slip past his lips.
"Az apja francia-kanadai... (Well, her dad's French-Canadian, so...)" I say absentmindedly. I have just busted this box wide open. But for whatever reason... ápa doesn't press it. Instead...
"Nem vagy oda érte, ugye? (You don't have the hots for her, do ya?)" I feel indignified by that. Why? Why would he ask that? He's messing with me. That's what this is.
"Micsoda? Nem. Miért... Miért kérdezed ezt? Tudod, hogy próbálok profi lenni. (What? No. Why... Why would you ask that? You know I try to keep things professional.)" I tell him, annoyed that he... That he's getting so close without realizing it. I don't want him to figure it out, though. God no.
"Hé, sosem tudhatod, mi történhet. (Hey, you never know what could happen.)" Ápa responds, jesting further. "Egyik nap a forgatáson vagy, a másikon pedig randira hív. Csak légy résen, én mondom. (One day you're at your shoot and then the next she's asking you out. Just be prepared is all I'm saying.)"
The sound of the front door closing is enough to get our attention. Seems Met has come back in. That could mean one of two things here. Either we're hanging here for a bit longer or he's ready to head back into the city. I get my asnwer a second after the thoughts enter my mind.
"Hey Kati! Come on. Let's head back." I hear him shout. I put my phone back into my pocket and stand up from my bed. I then give ápa a look that tells him Met is serious. He understands though. We both walk out of my old room and down the stairs, seeing Met by the door. He opens it, but doesn't walk out yet. Ápa walks over to him and nudges his elbow into Met.
"It was good to see you, Met. You should come up here more often." He then turns to me one last time. "Same with you." He pulls me into another hug, this time not choking the life out of me as he does so. I return it this time, seeing as how I am able to move my arms. After a few seconds, he lets go and I hear Met start walking out the door, prompting me to follow. I then close it behind me, but not before giving ápa one last look, smiling as I do so. After the front door is closed, me and Met walk back to his car. I manage to get into the passenger's seat without tripping myself up while Met casually slides into the driver's side. Once his key is in, the music starts. It's this weird atmosphere for a few minutes with weird spoken word before it goes into something that sounds like "deathrock" or whatever Met calls it.
"No savevo che gavevo Initium in ripetision... (Didn't know I had Initium on repeat...)" I hear Met mutter to himself as he gets us moving. Doesn't take long for us to exit the neighborhood. All while this Samhain keeps playing. Met, however, is more focused on me in the moment.
"So, happy I got you out here?" He asks, eyes not leaving to road as he speaks. It's uncanny how well he can multi-task, even among drivers. Guess he can be a good driver.
"Yeah, a little bit." I tell him, shifting in my seat so that I'm a little more comfortable.
"Good. You looked like you needed it. I'll stop at my place and you can probably just walk back to your apartment." He says. Prick. Not dropping me off at my place.
"You're such an ass..." I mutter. But of course, Met hears it.
"Kati... I'm just fuckin with you." He says as we exit Yonkers' city limits. Won't be long now until we're back in the Bronx.
|-That evening. Snug Harbor Cultural center & Botanical Garden. 1000 Richmond Terrace, Staten Island-|
I don't like Staten Island. It's too bougie for my tastes. But Gold City wanted to come here. And she does enjoy spending time with me. So I have to swallow my pride for the night. Not that it matters.Úgy tűnik, észrevette az elégedetlenségemet. (She seems to have noticed my discontent.)
"You look tense. Everything alright? We can go somewhere else if you'd like." She says, trying her best to put me at ease.
"It's... It's nothing." I respond, knowing that she'll see right through it.
"Chūkū no sakurya ku. Something's wrong. Out with it." Is the next thing City says, more insistent this time.
"I... I don't really like Staten Island. Too judgemental. Too... conservative." I say, airing out some of my grievances. I watch as her ears perk up before relaxing. Then she takes a deep breath before speaking up.
"Je vois... (I see...) You don't need to go on. I think I understand where you're coming from." She then says as she shifts her weight on the stone bench. From where her eyes are going, I'd say she's looking at the Chinese Scholar's Garden, but can't quite make out what it is she's looking at. "Nan desu ka... Nippon teien? Īe... Nan. Ka ga okashī..." I hear her mutter to herself in Japanese. I remember what I said a few months go, how I could learn it and Quebec French so that we can better communicate. Already gotten good with the French, I think. But Japanese... Oh, okay. I get it now. Guess I'm starting to see why she thinks I "see the real Gold City".
"That's the Chinese Garden. Do you, uh... Want to check it out?" I say, watching her ears perk up again before relaxing in the same motion.
"Chinese Garden... I wouldn't be opposed." Gold says, standing up as she does so and walking towards the Chinese Garden, heels clicking on the pavers as she moves.
Within a few seconds we're at the Chinese Garden, taking in some of the views we can get from here. "It reminds me of the Forbidden City in Beijing. Always wanted to see it." She says as she glances over the small pond that the garden has. I feel like agreeing. But I don't say anything. Not immediately. Especially when City starts speaking again. "For as different as our cultures are, I find it fascinating how similar they can be. China and Japan. Many things that are common place in Japan were once imported from China, after all. But I won't go into that too much. Mostly because it's... It's complicated."
"Yeah... I bet it is..." Is the only thing I can eek out of my mouth. I'm too distracted. By a lot. But in this moment... The way the last rays of sunlight fall on her skin, reflect off her hair... It makes me want to run my fingers through those golden strands. See if they really do feel like silk... And her pale, plump skin... Is it as soft as those devious fantasies make me think it is? I look down, roll up my sleeve slightly, taking in my own somewhat tan skin. How strained it looks... How rough my palms feel compared to hers... Ha lesz rá esélyem, hogy megfogjam a kezét. (If I'll ever get the chance to hold her hands, that is.)
Pathetic.
Didn't I tell you to fuck off already?
Being crass won't help you. You know that.
As if I care right now. Just leave me alone.
You know I can't do that. Not when I'm trying to protect you.
You sound like a mob boss.
Maybe I am. Maybe I'm, not. But you are GOING to listen. Whether you want to or not, young lady.
I'm not listening to any of your bullshit. Not now. Not ever. Now fuck off.
I tune back into reality, seeing Gold City looking at me, eyes carrying a worried stare again.
"Something's still bothering you." She says.
"It really is nothing this time." I say, knowing that she won't fully believe me. But she doesn't seem to press any further. No additional prodding. Just leaves it there. Does she really trust me that much? Szörnyű döntés, tényleg. (A horrible decision, really.) My attention is then taken by the sound of her laughter.
"I don't know whether to take you at face value when you say that. Come on. I've had my fill. Don't want to keep you 'suffering' any longer than I need to." She says, heels once again clicking on the stones as she walks. I follow suit, my Converses making small scuffs with each footfall. But one thought keeps nagging at my mind as we walk back to my car: Why is she so interested in me? I think I understand why she's so relaxed around me, but... To have someone like Gold City want to spend time with me outside of work, that's... I thought it would just be a one off back in June. After we scouted the lighthouse so she and Randy could get a second opinion. But since then it's been me and her going around the city whenever we both have the time. It's the most alive I've felt since me and Rose were dating, yeah, but... I don't know. Something feels off. I know it's my own insecurities and impostor syndrome getting the better of me, but I can't shake this horrible feeling in my gut. Will it sour things between us? Maybe... But I have to ask. I need to know. I manage to catch up to Gold, matching her pace, taking a deep breath before I ask the question that will probably ruin me.
"Why do you spend so much of your time with me outside of our work?" I can tell by the way her ears perk up, by how she stops in her tracks that it was something she did not expect to hear. Something... she didn't want to hear.
"How many times have I told you? It's because I enjoy being around you." She says. That old repeated mantra that never puts me at ease. Gold City enjoys spending time with me. I can't wrap my head around it.
"You need to be more specific. What is it about some little, loser lesbian like me do you find enjoyable?" The knife twists deeper as the words come out of my mouth. It takes a few seconds before I get a response. She had to think about what to say next. I don't blame her. I'd be blind-sided too if someone I've been so comfortable around for almost five months started talking this kind of way.
"D'accord. .. Je vois qu'une réponse simple ne suffit pas pour vous. (Okay... I see that a simple answer isn't enough for you.)" She says before taking a deep breath of her own. "Why do I spend so much of my time with you? Could it be that I think you're a kind person? Always attentive to my wants and needs in your own way? Maybe it's because you're a great listener. You almost never interrupt me when I'm speaking or when I'm laying out plans. Can't tell you how many times that's happened to me." She pauses oh so briefly before continuing on with her impromptu speech. "Perhaps it's because you're able to bring out parts of me that I didn't know were there. Or maybe it is just as simple as I've been telling you: I find you to be enjoyable company." I don't know what to say. How do I respond to this? What do I comeback with? I don't get a chance to answer though. Not when she speaks up one last time. "Time spent with you is not time wasted, Kati. It never has been and it never will be."
"I, uh... I..." God I sound pathetic. I expected this to turn into an argument. A shouting match. But it didn't. It's not. But one thing sticks out to me... 'Bring out parts of me I didn't know were there.' Is... Is she trying to say... Nem. A legkevésbé sem. Túl sokat olvasok a dolgokban. Kizárt dolog... egy olyan nő, mint Gold City, megkérdőjelezhető... (No. Not in the slightest. I'm reading too much into things. There is no way... a woman like Gold City can possibly be questioning...)
"Kati? Are you there? Hey, talk to me." I get snapped out of this little fugue state by the very same woman my mind has been torturing me over. She's close. Maybe too close. And she has that same worried look in her eyes from earlier. And that's when I feel the slightest pressure on my arm through the sleeve of my jacket. I briefly glance down and see that he's holding my arm ever so gently. Trying to ground me back into reality. I swallow hard before I look right into those pale blue eyes of hers, immediately averting my gaze before taking a deep breath and standing up straight.
"I, uh... I'm sorry. I shoul-" City cuts me off before I can continue my apology.
"Kati. Ī n da. It's okay. There's no need to apologize." She says as she mercifully takes a step back. "But don't ever say things like that again. Promets-moi que tu ne le feras pas. (Promise me you won't.)"
"I... I'll try." Is what I mutter out. I expect her to have a firm response ready, but all she does is smile at me before she speaks up again.
"That's certainly better than nothing. Come on. Let's head back to Manhattan." She says as she spins on her heel, once again sending my mind off to the races.
Nyugi. Lélegezni. Túljutunk ezen. (Relax. Breathe. We can get through this.)
Can we? I already know where my mind will go...
Igen. Megtehetjük. Tudom, hogy megtehetjük. Hogy képes vagy rá. (Yes. We can. I know that we can. That you can.)
sigh
This is going to be a long night, isn't it?
|-That night. Lower East Side, Manhattan-|
"To walk the night"
"To feel no love"
"To know the touch of another kiss"
"Never more"
"What is this? It sounds... Familiar. But I can't put my finger on it." City says as she reaches for my phone. She taps the screen to see what's playing and starts reading the name of the song. "To Walk the Night... Samhain... Why is that so familiar?"
"You know them?" I say, shocked that she'd even be familiar with this kind of music. "I didn't think Danzig would be up your alley."
"Danzig? Glenn Danzig? He fronted another band?" City then asks. Okay... Who doesn't she know? "Let me guess: Another ex was a fan of theirs." I ask, half joking but there is an air of seriousness in my words.
"No. My brother, Victor. He often sends me pictures of how life is back in Oshawa. His room is filled with hard rock, metal and punk memorabilia. He has all of the Misfits releases before their initial split. Hmph... I guess that's why Samhain sounds so familiar." She explains as she sets my phone back into it's holder. "I think he'd like you."
"Oh, he'd definitely like Met." I say as I turn off of Delancey and onto Bowery. This will take us through Chinatown and straight to the Financial Disctrict.
"I'm assuming Meteor Hammer is how you know Samhain?" I then hear Gold ask, getting my attention as I slowly creep my way south-west.
"Yeah. We were up in Yonkers earlier and he started playing it. Don't know why but... It just made some things click, I guess." I say, not really knowing what the right words would be in this situation. Maybe Met is righ when he says certain artists can't be described. You just need to listen to them to understand.
"Yonkers... Is that part of the city? Or is it seperate?" I hear her ask.
"It's in Westchester County, not Bronx County. Though Yonkers is part of the megalopolis." I tell her, satiating some of her curiosity.
"Why were you there? I'm assuming Yonkers is important to you." She says, wanting to know more. I guess I can keep talking, especially since this light is stuck on red. Traffic is really bad tonight.
"It's where me and Met grew up. All of the friends we made since moving into New York always give us a hard time for it." I start saying, reminiscing on those first few months in the Bronx, how alone I felt before learning that I was only a three minute drive from Met's apartment. "Everyone kept telling me and Met that we weren't true New Yorkers. That we're outsiders from upstate. Just ignore the fact that the Bronx has been slowly but surely melting into Yonkers." I pause, getting a quick look at City. She's fully engrossed in what I have to say. "We don't actually live that far from each other. Just like how it was back in Yonkers growing up. Only a three minute drive away." That gets her to chuckle. I'm lucky the lights outside my car aren't bright enough to fully illuminate my face, otherwise she'd see how much I'm blushing.
"Did you two plan that? Or was it a happy accident?" She asks, still laughing as the words come out. "Oh, no. It was completely unplanned. By the time I decided to drop out of NYU and move into the Bronx, Met had already been there for a year. He moved into New York City practically the second he graduated." I answer, stopping at another red light. Jézusom, mekkora a forgalom ma este? (Jesus, how bad is traffic tonight?) Well, at least I can sneak glances at Gold City. Admire her beauty in a way that doesn't feel like I'm ogling her.
"When did you and Meteor Hammer graduate? Was he a year ahead or a year behind?" Is the next question I hear.
"Met was a year ahead of me. He graduated in 2019. I was the next year in 2020." I start saying, having an idea of what her next question or statement will be. I get to mine before her, though. "Magna cum laude. Not valedictorian though. I... I wasn't smart enough for that."
"Wow. I bet your parents were proud in that moment. Dropping out of college... Well, I'll let you talk about that one." She says, eyes never leaving me.
"Well, ápa wasn't happy at first. But then I tried to explain why I did it. It was... far too much for me to handle. I just couldn't keep up." I say, not seeing it, but feeling her gaze shift from me to her lap then back to me. She doesn't say anything in response. Not yet
"It didn't strain things between the two of you, did it?" I hear her ask. It's not at all what I thought it was going to be.
"In the immediate, it did. But after I explained my reasoning he seemed to accept it. Plus, he could never really stay mad at me. Knowing that I'm doing what I love is enough for him to be happy." I say, feeling her eyes drift again.
"What's he like? Your father." Is the next line of questioning Gold goes for. I think I'll oblige her.
"He's kind. He's funny. He's thoughtful. He likes to garden and cook. Learned all of that from his aunt. She'd teach him her own personal recipes whenever he'd visit her in Budapest." I start saying, catching Gold shift in her seat as I talk. "He'll talk your ear off, but you won't get tired of it. Kind of a talent of his, I guess. Never really being able to annoy people unless he wanted to."
"Hmm... Like father like daughter, I suppose." I hear her say. I am... No.
"Look, I love my ápa, but I am not that much like him. Inkább olyan vagyok, mint az anyám. (I'm more like my anya.)" I start saying, realizing too late that I've opened Pandora's Box.
"Anya? Is she like a family friend? An aunt?" The questioning is more intense than it actually is... I shouldn't feel so interrogated by City in this moment.
"Mother." I say, watching her face shift from one expression to another.
"Oh... What's she like, then? What makes you think you're more like her than your father." She then asks, prodding just enough to where it seems plausibly deniable.
"She was quiet. Reserved. Almost clairvoyant. Could sense when things would work and when they wouldn't." I start, knowing that this is a bad idea. "She was smart. She was kind. She was loving. She was beautiful." I pause for a brief moment before continuing. "Everyone keeps telling me I look like her." That gets those pale blue eyes on me again. For the umpteenth time tonight.
"Maybe they're right. I certainly wouldn't be able to find reasons to not believe the statement." She says, hand coming up before immediately falling again. Was she... I can tell by the look in her eyes that she wants to change the subject. And to her credit, she does.
"Have you considered growing your hair out? Not saying it looks bad, just..." She starts, but trails off, almost knowing that somehow it will bring us back to anya.
"Makes me look too much like anya when it's long." I say, seeing how it stops just above the base of my neck in the rear-view mirror. I never really liked how I looked with longer hair. Neck length was always the best. But...
"Well, if you want my opinion: I think you can wear it long in ways that won't make you look like your mother. It's not just about having it long, Kati. Style is also important here." Gold starts saying, bringing up her hand once more. By this point, we're already at her apartment. The last few lights we mercifully green the entire ride back.
"May I?" I hear her ask. Oh, she... she wants to feel my hair. Okay... I nod, giving her the okay and feel those slender fingers of hers slowly move through my hair. "Hmm... if you go down to here..." She says as she slowly trails down my neck, stopping an inch and a half below my shoulders. "There's a lot we can do with that. What do you think?"
"Uh... Talán.? (Maybe.?) I don't know." I say, trying to not think about how I felt as she ran her finger down my neck. I know it wasn't intentional in that way, but fuck... Before my mind can go off, City shifts in her seat again.
"You... don't particularly like talking about your mother, do you?" I hear. If only she knew... "You parents didn't get divorced, did they? Like mine?" Don't... Don't...
"N... No..." Is the only thing I can muster in the moment. "Oh..." Is the only response I get.
Anya... How do I... How do I talk about this? I thought that I had enough time to process everything from that day, but...
"She's been dead for nine years." The words sip out, almost unconsciously. I regret it almost immediately once I realize what it is I just said. Once I process the vocalizations. City's gaze is far more intense now before it fades away... Mint anya... (Just like anya...)
"Oh, I... I think I see why it's such a... touchy subject now. I'm sorry." I hear her say, followed up by... "How did- No. I shouldn't ask."
"Sudden brain aneurysm." I say, knowing that this won't be easy to get through. "Met was the first person to find her. He immediately called 911 but by the time paramedics got there... she was already gone."
Silence. Excruciatingly tense silence is what follows. Nem kellett volna mondanom semmit. Nem kellett volna részleteznem. I... (I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have elaborated. I...) I get pulled out of this rut by the feeling of someone's hand on my thigh. I look over and see Gold's arm right there. She then moves it up to my wrist, slowly taking my hand in hers. We then lock eyes.
"I... I'm so sorry that all of this happened to you. You know, if you ever feel like just... talking certain things out, I'm willing to listen. Or if you just want someone who can be there. No words needed. I... I can tell how much she meant to you. That's good. Très bien. (Very good.)" City lets go of my hand before she unbuckles and opens the door, stepping out into the cool evening air of October. But she gives me one last look before she starts heading to her building. "Hey, look at me." Another brief silence. "Never forget the good times that you had. Remember those the most. I'll see you Thursday."
She closes the door and walks towards her building, stepping into it and then out of sight. This now leaves me with my thoughts... and they are everywhere. If I wasn't falling for this woman before... Most már biztos vagyok benne. (I'm sure as hell am now.)
|-Tuesday morning. Noonan Towers, 929 Woodycrest Avenue, the Bronx-|
It's hot. Too hot. I hate summer. Especially here in the Adirondacks. Too hot. Too stuffy. Too humid. And Sacandanga Lake isn't helping. It's making things worse.
"Mi a baj, kis virágom? (What's wrong, my little flower?)" Anya asks as she walks over to me, sitting down on the shore next to me.
"Túl meleg van, anya. (It's too hot, anya.)" I say, poking a toe into the sand before immediately retracting it from how hot it is under there. "HMPH! Látod? (See?)" Anya just laughs at my suffering. She looks out over Sacandanga Lake before she speaks up again.
"Hát, a nap közepe van. És ez a kis hegyi tó nem olyan, mint Ontario. Este visszajövünk. Akkor hűvösebb lesz. (Well, it's the middle of the day. And this little mountain lake isn't like Ontario. We'll be back out here later tonight. It'll be cooler then.)" She says, still laughing as she turns her eyes to me, those dark brown irises boring a hole right through me. "Ma este az ötvenes évek közepén járunk. Az a ropogós hegy csodákat tesz a lélekkel. Legalábbis nekem azt mondták. (It'll be in the high fifties tonight. That crisp mountain does wonders for the soul. Or so I'm told.)"
"Hey Kati! You getting in, babe?" We both look out and see Rose in the water, black hair obscured by the sunlight being reflected off the lake's surface. I really don't want to get up and walk on this hot sand, getting it in every crevice possible, but god dammit the way Rose's voice sounds... Then there's Met.
"GET IN HERE YOU COWARD!" The only thing I see that is recognizable is the giant binder on his chest, light also being reflected off of the metal parts. I hate him so much sometimes...
"Seggfej... (Asshole...)" I mutter under my breath, catching anya's attention.
"Vigyázz a szádra, ifjú hölgy. (Watch the language, young lady.)" She scolds, "slapping" me on the shoulder before relaxing next to me again. "Ugye nem akarod, hogy a nagyapád így halljon? (You wouldn't want your grandfather to hear you talk like that, would you?)" I take a deep breath, resting my head on anya's shoulder as I do so.
"Fáradt? Délben? Egy szép nyári napon? (Tired? At noon? On a lovely summer day?)" Anya says as she lets me do this.
"Túrázni akartam a tó körül. Nem úszni benne. (I wanted to go hiking around the lake. Not swimming in it.)" I respond, lamenting how the day is currently going. "Akkor legalább lenne árnyékunk. (At least then we'd have some shade.)" Anya chuckles again, formulating her own response to what I said. "Nos, néha az élet nem egészen úgy alakul, ahogy szeretnéd. Csak az számít, hogy mit teszünk, ha nem. (Well, sometimes, life doesn't exactly go the way you want it to. What matters is what we do when it doesn't.)" She finally says, looking back out at the lake towards Met, Rose and ápa. Rose's parents finally arrive, getting in the water as soon as they take off their shoes. Then Met turns back to face us on the shore.
"STOP STALLING!" He shouts.
"WHAT HE SAID!" Rose follows, itself being chased by the sound of ápa's voice.
"May as well get in, virágom." He says, laughing as he watches Met hit Rose in the face with a stream of water form a super soaker.
"Menj. Ne várakoztasd meg őket. Úgy tűnik, apád már megvert ott. (Go. Don't keep them waiting. Looks like your father has already beat you there.)" I look out at the lake and see that ápa has indeed gotten in the water, throwing a football at Met, who catches it easily. Guess I have to get in now, don't I? I stand up, immediately regretting the decision as the sand starts burning the soles of my feet as I start walking. I make it quick, not wanting to be in the sun for too long. Within a few seconds, I reach the water and step in. Sokkal menőbb. (Much cooler.) I briefly turn back to see anya, but she's moved. Presumably getting in the lake not too far from me, judging by the sound of her voice mixed with ápa's. Then I feel someone's arm come on my shoulder. I turn around and get greeted by a peck on the cheek from Rose.
"Took you long enough. Come on. Let's go deeper." She says, dragging me deeper and deeper in until it's up to our waists. Then she shoves me, at which point I start swimming. In between catching my breath and being splashed by Met, I catch glimpses of ápa and anya with Rose's parents, all four looking at us with broad smiles of their faces.
I snap back to reality from that memory. I'm sat on the couch in my little Bronx apartment. It's not June. It's late October. It's not noon. It's nine in the morning. And it's not 2016. It's 2025. I stand up, noticing the cup of coffee that's on the table. Then my phone. It's on a photo. One of me and anya... At Sacandanga Lake... Two months before...
I find myself tearing up looking at the picture. It's too much to take in. I quickly swipe off it before I really start crying. Talking about her last night with Gold City is still fresh on my mind. I don't... Nincs szükségem több emlékeztetőre. (I don't need anymore reminders.) As I switch off the photos app, I get a text from Randy.
'Me and you. Friday morning. You choose the location.' He asks. Seems important.
'Uh... Okay. I can do that.' I respond, waiting for his. But it doesn't come. He just puts a thumbs up on my message. This is going to be... one interesting conversation.