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Juri

“Don’t tell me you’ve already used up everything I gave you on Tuesday evening,” Clé sighed as he closed the door behind him and followed me into the kitchen. “At least you seem to be able to walk normally again.”

I grunted irritably and sat down on the folding chair at the small kitchen table. After Clé opened the window behind me to ventilate the smoke-filled room, he snatched a beer from the fridge and sat across from me.

“And? How does it feel to be back in your own apartment? Sleeping in your own bed?”

I wasn’t up for small talk. Besides, I felt awful.

Ever since I moved out of Luca's place five days ago, I’d been on edge.

My hand trembled as I reached for the cigarette on the ashtray.

Taking a deep drag, I ran my greasy hair back.

“Did you bring it?” I asked loudly, exhaling smoke and taking a big gulp of beer.

Clé quietly observed me. His expression was inscrutable, but there was a hint of unease lingering on his face.

“Are you finally going to tell me what happened on Tuesday?”

I hesitated for a moment and swallowed. What had happened at Luca’s place had completely thrown me off.

When I got home at half past six, I paced around the apartment like a junkie in withdrawal and couldn’t relax.

And since Romero wasn’t home, I called Clé, who brought me some coke and benzos.

Since he had an early shift that week, Cle couldn’t stay long.

But today was Saturday, and the way he crossed one leg over the other and enjoyed his beer, he clearly indicated he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

Of course, I could have asked him to leave, but after finishing his stuff on Thursday and being forced to knock on Romero’s door, I didn’t feel like doing that again. I bit my lower lip and chewed on the ring. “Nothing happened,” I lied and greedily took another drag of the cigarette.

Clé laughed in disbelief, his dark brown hair long enough now to be tucked behind his ears—a detail I hadn't noticed on Tuesday.

“Tell me, or I’ll take the stuff back home with me. I know you’re not keen on knocking on Romero’s door. So, spill the beans.”

“That’s childish.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re the one being childish?”

Am I?

Fuck! So what if I am

The thing with Luca was over. We had a bit of fun together, and that’s it.

That he had been filming me the whole time …

Fuck! I couldn’t even finish the thought.

I still didn’t fully understand what it was doing to me.

It was a pain I didn’t know. It almost felt like the days when my father ignored me.

Somehow, I had been glad about it, but on the other hand, I had wished he would pay attention to me.

I was even willing to take a beating for it.

Although I usually had no idea why he beat me up, at least I knew I wasn’t invisible.

What I did know was the shame I had been trying to escape since Tuesday.

It haunted me constantly, and it was destroying me.

It choked me and made me feel like the biggest idiot.

Falling in love with Luca … Seriously? In a drunken stupor, I had seriously considered showing up at my old man’s place.

At least he would have properly punished me for my stupidity.

“I can walk normally again and don’t need any help, so I moved out.”

My voice sounded pathetic; I even noticed that. Clé didn’t react and lit a cigarette, blowing out smoke.

“And how’s the guy? What was his name? Luca?”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. He’s doing it on purpose. He knows exactly what’s going on.

God damn it! My own thoughts are already driving me crazy.

There’s nothing going on! Get that through your head!

And yet something tightened in my chest.

“He’s fine,” I muttered with a shrug.

Probably was. Ultimately, I supplied the idiot with material. All he had to do was piece it together, and he had his final project—a completed film. All achieved through fraud.

I rested both elbows on the table and rubbed my face. When I noticed the cigarette between my fingers, I stubbed it out and sighed, then covered my face again.

“And?” Clé asked. “Did he get enough inspiration from you to create his work?”

I peeked through my fingers with a grumpy expression, shooting a glare at Clé.

He wasn't foolish, and his current tactic was another ploy to coax me into talking.

Unfortunately, his question unearthed emotions he likely hadn't anticipated.

I grimaced, feeling tears welling up unexpectedly. Hastily, I rubbed my eyes and sniffed.

No problem. When he asks, it’s the coke. I’m not usually this weepy.

“Juri,” Clé’s voice turned gentle. “Just tell me what happened so I can understand.”

“What’s to understand?”

I didn’t even understand it myself.

“This?” He made a sweeping gesture. “You’re completely out of it. Did something happen? Between you two?”

Coldness spread through me, and my body felt numb. I took a sip of beer and lowered my head. “We had sex.”

“Well, that was obvious.”

“Huh?”

Clé shrugged. “What? Wasn’t it obvious when you moved in with him?”

I rolled my eyes and pursed my lips. “I never told you about the thing at Exil.”

“Ah! So that’s where it started.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he nodded knowingly.

I shook my head in confusion. “That didn’t mean anything at all.”

“Oh, come on. For years, you only had old geezers in your bed. And I’m not blind. Even I can see that Blondy is totally hot. It was obvious what would happen if you moved in with him.”

I sat motionless, staring blankly at Clé.

“Oh, oh … You’ve fallen for him.”

“Nonsense,” I said, reaching for my cigarettes.

“Yes, you have. And wow! Who would’ve thought? Juri Vinzens falling in love.”

“Don’t go broadcasting that. It’s over.”

“I assume so. I can hardly think of any other reason why you’re so messed up.” Clé tapped his cigarette into the ashtray and leaned back. “What happened?”

“He didn’t stick to the agreement.”

“What did he do?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. It still puzzled and angered me that I had been so blind, not noticing him filming me. “It was supposed to be just audio recordings. But instead …”

“Oh no, he filmed. Shit. That’s really nasty. During sex?”

“No!” I hissed. I covered my face with one hand and sighed. “I feel so stupid.”

“Understandable. Your boundaries weren’t respected.”

We both lapsed into silence for a while.

I found solace in the quiet, grateful that Clé wasn’t teasing me as he often did.

He was typically the one to crack a joke in moments like these.

Though I avoided meeting his gaze, I sensed his scrutiny.

I must have appeared terrible. Perhaps that’s why he chose to stay silent.

Since Tuesday, I had been trying to control my jumbled thoughts with drugs, but this short conversation had a greater effect than the coke and benzos combined. It was even the first time my chest loosened a knot, and breathing became easier.

“Saw you’re ‘ready for orders’ again.” Clé fetched a tiny bag out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the table.

I massaged my forehead. “Yeah.”

“So, that’s why the delivery?” He pushed the bag across the table to me. “Don’t overdo it.”

I nodded and grabbed my phone. “Regular price?”

“Yes.”

I sent him the money through the app. “Sent.”

“This is a completely topsy-turvy world right now.” Clé laughed. “Usually, you’re the one bringing the stuff.”

“I’ve been clean for almost a month.” This justification sounded so wrong, but in my opinion, the little stuff Clé brought me on New Year’s didn’t count.

“And how did it feel?”

Surprised, I glanced at him and put the phone away. The fact was, Luca somehow gave me stability, but Clé didn’t need to know that. “It was just like that. Didn’t really think about it much.”

“Are you going back to work?”

“Is that so unthinkable?”

Clé brushed it off with a smile. “I’m just saying. With that thing on your foot? Not exactly sexy.”

“I only have to wear it until Monday anyway. It probably doesn’t matter if I take it off a day earlier.”

“And you feel ready for that?”

“God damn it, Clé! Yes! What else do I have?”

“By the way, I asked at the screen printing shop if they’re hiring apprentices this summer, but they’re not taking any more. I tried. Sorry.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many rejections I’ve gotten since the beginning of the year. I even calculated how much money I would still have to save up to do my own thing; open a club or something. Maybe that would be the solution.”

Clé sipped his beer and shrugged. “Maybe.”

Finding my beer empty, I rose to get a new one.

My circulation, however, didn’t appreciate the sudden movement and punished me with a wave of dizziness.

I immediately grabbed onto the kitchen counter.

Fuck, maybe I did overdo it a bit the last few days.

My thoughts returned to Luca; I just couldn’t control it.

How am I supposed to work like that?

With a new can, I sat back at the small table. Clé looked pensive, almost sad.

“So, you probably won’t be coming to the Gothic Party on Wednesdays anymore?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because Luca works there at the bar.”

“He was fired long ago.”

It sounded disdainful, and yet I felt somewhat empowered. Luca had been so reserved with personal information in our conversations that it always made me feel reconciled when I discovered things I already knew about him.

The first time we met, we both lost our jobs. When I later told him why I had freaked out at the café, he couldn’t stop laughing and called the moment the irony of fate.

But the dark clouds rolled in again. I felt cold, and the time with Luca was pierced by an icy wind. Nothing remained, just this incredibly bleak feeling of loneliness. And although there was a huge hole in my chest, it felt like I had been carrying a lump of coal around with me since Tuesday.

“I don’t know if I’ll be coming next Wednesday,” I said. “I really don’t feel like partying.”

“Then let’s go get a drink,” Clé said in an understanding tone. “But don’t think I’ll let you work nonstop for the next few weeks. I won’t allow that.”

“You won’t allow it?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in surprise.

“No. Because we both know that would break you.”

I let out a humorless laugh. Clé was right—that was exactly what I planned.

Work until I dropped. The plan for next week was already in place.

As soon as I changed my profile picture, the requests came in.

Somehow, I even looked forward to being able to slip into a role again tomorrow, distracting myself from my own self.

Because right now, I couldn’t stand myself at all.