Page 16

16

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Noé

I had long gotten used to the fact that nights weren’t particularly relaxing. My sleep was restless and full of unpleasant dreams. So it surprised me even more that I woke up for the third time in Alex’s bed, and this time, I actually felt quite refreshed. Not even Tom’s couch could achieve that. Even the nightmare faded into the background, and my mother’s abuse didn’t haunt me into reality.

The blinds were half open, and it was already bright outside. I lay there for a while, watching the passing clouds in the hazy sky. I listened for traffic noises, but the only thing I heard was my own breathing. Not even a sound in the apartment.

Alex is probably already at work—wherever that is .

Tired, I woke myself up by rubbing my face and shuffled to the bathroom. I treated myself to a thorough shower with all the extras. When I finished, I found my clothes neatly folded on the chair.

I left the room to get my phone since I had no idea what time it was. But in the hallway, I hesitated when I noticed the light next to the darkroom door. The lamp wasn’t glowing red like it did back when Alex first showed me the darkroom. This time, the light was white.

Does that mean he’s here but not working in the red light?

I wasn’t sure. Despite the black curtain serving as an additional barrier, I didn’t dare to enter, so I knocked and cautiously opened the door.

“Alex?”

“Come in!”

I closed the door behind me and pushed aside the curtain. The room wasn’t particularly brightly lit. It smelled of chemical substances, probably developer or whatever it was called. The walls were wallpapered with black and white photographs showing various men and women. Numerous negatives lay on the light table, and the lines were full of fresh photos.

Of me.

Sleeping.

Close-up.

My jaw dropped. My breath caught.

What the ...?

In the midst of it all, Alex sat, glancing up from his laptop. “Hello, sleepyhead,” he said enthusiastically.

“What is this?” I managed to get out.

Alex rose from his chair and trudged toward me. “As you know, I’m planning an exhibition, and there’s also this book. Please! Just take a deep breath and listen to me before you freak out.”

How does he know I’m about to? “You photographed me ... while I was asleep.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, but when I saw you like that, I just had to photograph you.”

He took my arm and wanted to lead me to the photo wall filled with many people, but I recoiled and pointed at the photos on the line. “There are at least twenty photos of me!” I snapped at him. “What kind of psycho are you?”

“No, no, no,” Alex said, trying to placate me. “I can explain. Please. Just listen to me first. Then you can do whatever ... punch me or ... whatever you feel like.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Undeterred, he reached out again and extended an inviting gesture to follow him to the table. There were even more photos, mostly close-ups and portraits.

“The book I’m planning is titled Demigods . I photograph people I find interesting. I talk to them and write something about them. Who they are, what they do, and what occupies their minds. This one is a famous surgeon. This one is a chef, works in a snack bar. And she works on Langstrasse in a brothel.”

Yeah, I know her.

“And what am I doing here?”

“I want you to be a part of it. I want you on the cover.”

“What? No! I’m a nobody.”

Alex laughed. “No, you’re anything but a nobody. You inspire me! Thanks to you, I can finally finish this book. Please! Let me photograph you.”

“You’ve already done that!”

“Not like this. Properly! With consent. Please! It would mean so much to me.”

“It’s out of the question! Forget it! You took these pictures while I was sleeping! What are you? Some kind of pervert! You had no right to do that!”

“You were so beautiful. You’re different! Different from the models I’ve photographed.”

“Models? You have a false image of me. I’m not a model! Damn it! Alex! Look at these people! And then me!”

“You’re wonder—”

I immediately held up my finger. “I don’t want to hear that!”

“All the scars you hide under your tattoos ... They’re just ...”

I wanted to leave, but he blocked my way out. I turned away, but all I saw were the photos of me. He had even photographed my battered right hand in the foreground, with my sleeping face behind. Another photo showed one of the long scars on my forearm from Mom, when she went at me like a fury with the knife. Breathing became increasingly difficult. Alex had managed to lift the veil of tattoos and show what lay beneath. What should have remained hidden.

“No one looks as closely as you do! Damn it!” My voice trembled, and I was on the verge of being swept away by all the painful memories. That couldn’t happen, so I whirled around, shoved him aside, and stormed out.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Away! Damn it!” I yelled angrily. Grabbing my phone and backpack, I headed for the door, but once again, he stood in my way.

“Don’t you want something to eat? Or a coffee? We can talk about it.”

My mind was screaming. I just wanted to get away. And yet I stopped in front of Alex and struggled for words. The whole situation left me stunned. Now, without the many unfamiliar faces in the photos, watching us from all sides, I saw Alex for the first time. His unshaven face glistened with a film of sweat, his unkempt hair hung in damp strands over his face, and dark circles were under his eyes.

“Please, Noé! I didn’t mean to scare you! You just inspired me. I couldn’t sleep, and ... then I saw you. For the first time, really! I couldn’t believe it, and it hurt so much when I saw your scars. But they were also so beautiful, and I wanted to capture and preserve the moment.”

He just wouldn’t stop talking, and with every word, he fueled the storm within me. “Stop!” I yelled to interrupt his flow of words.

Alex gasped for air, ran his shaky hand through his hair, and glimpsed around as if he didn’t know where he was. And then I saw it. I hadn’t seen it before, although I usually had an eye for such things. But it was just too obvious and far-fetched that with Alex, it never occurred to me that this could have been the reason for it.

“Are you on drugs?” I asked, astonished.

“What? No.” Alex acted as if my question was absolutely ridiculous. And then he sniffed.

“For God’s sake, Alex!” I exclaimed and threw my hands in the air.

“Why are you getting upset?” He didn’t even try to deny it anymore and rubbed his nose. “I just had a little left, and I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I don’t want to hear that,” I said, walking past him toward the coat rack.

“I’m not a junkie!” he shouted, coming after me.

Before I reached the door, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back against the wall. “Please, Noé. You have to believe me. I don’t have a problem with it. But it will destroy me if you just bail on me now.”

“What difference does it make?” I asked, shoving him with all my strength, causing him to hit the other wall. “You’re totally high!”

“And you’re a mystery to me,” he retorted, completely out of context for my understanding, but he wasn’t finished. “But that’s okay. I love mysteries. I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

The words came so easily from his lips that I could only stare at him. That’s the drug! “Damn it, man! Get yourself together before you spout that crap.”

“It’s not crap. It’s the truth. And it doesn’t surprise me that it doesn’t faze you. But it tears me apart!”

“Then I feel sorry for you.”

“What?”

“It was a mistake to come here.”

“Because I said I love you?”

My body stiffened, and I stood there frozen. This wasn’t good. There was something wrong with me. It wasn’t like I was unfamiliar with the situation. How many women had confessed their love to me? Every time, I put on my most charming smile and told them I wasn’t interested in anything serious. It wasn’t a big deal. Sure, sometimes there were tears, and I pretended to be sympathetic, while secretly mourning the warm bed that was now crossed off my list.

Why did it feel so different with him? Why couldn’t I just slip into my role and play the old game? Instead, my body was immobile. Only when Alex approached, stopping inches from my face, and I felt his warmth without touching him, did my muscles react again. And yet, I was completely at his mercy.

Be strong! The guy is on drugs! You know all too well what that means!

Alex cupped my head in his hands. “Please, give us a chance,” he whispered and kissed me.

I was breathless, gripping my backpack tightly. Be strong, damn it! I managed to shake my head and took a step back. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

Then a noise sounded as if someone outside was inserting a key. Shortly after, the door opened, and a woman entered. She was maybe around fifty, with blonde curly hair chin-length.

“Oh ... Hello, Alex!” she said, startled, immediately holding up the key as an explanation. “Didn’t expect you to be home, otherwise I would have rung first.”

“Hello, Corinne,” Alex said, rubbing his face. “It’s okay. We ...”

I tried not to show that I was trembling all over. Who the hell was this? Wasn’t the cleaning lady named Luzia?

“You have a visitor, so I won’t intrude long.” She smiled at me delightedly and showed no sign of wanting to leave right away.

Alex sighed. “Corinne, this is Noé. Noé, my mother.”

As Corinne took a step toward us, extending her hand, I felt overwhelmed. Panicking, I pushed past Alex to the coat rack, grabbed my jacket, and rushed out the door.