Mallory's Melody

Chapter 39

"THANKS."

Diana jumped out of the taxi and ran into the hotel, ran not just because she wanted to get to Jason before he went out of her reach, but also because she wanted to escape before the Uber driver discovered that the dollar notes she'd given him were fake. She'd duplicated them in Jason's apartment, false babies of that one-dollar note she found lying under a pile of his crumpled clothes. His apartment had been a thick web she had to push her way through with how messy and undone it was. There were dirty clothes piled up on all the sides of the room, broken shards of alcohol bottles pockmarking the tiles, and food pieces lying around, a primary target for resourceful ants who didn't like to see food waste, age-old or not.

For as long as Diana had known him, Jason had always been a disorganised person, the messiness of his environment mirroring the discordant state of his mind, his lack of peace. But there was something different about his messy apartment this time around. It was a mess that hinted at the absence of the person who was responsible for clearing it up, the kind of one left before travelling. Unsettled by the thought of Jason moving, she'd phoned his line, and when he didn't pick up, she tracked him down with the GPS app he'd forgotten to disable after they broke up.

And here she was, striding into the reception of a supposed five-star hotel, a tuneful jazz rhythm sifting into her ears. The sound almost had a texture of silk, a softness that carried her spirit aloft. She made her way to the front desk where a red-haired woman stood valiantly, competence in her composure and warmth in her smile.

"Welcome to Paradise hotel. How may I help you please?"

Diana examined the environment. It did indeed resemble paradise with its heavenly whiteness, and overflowing pristine water fountains. The walls were made of transparent glass, and behind them, an abundance of green—trees, and lawns and grass sculptures. "Nice place, "Diana said, "I'm here to visit my boy—I mean, my friend, Jason Trevor."

The woman nodded. "Alright. Have a seat. I'll phone him right up." She made as if to turn, but stopped, as if in remembrance of something. " Oh, and what's your name, please?"

Diana stalled "Mallory. Mallory Trent."

It was the only way he would come.

"Okay." The woman turned to pick up the telephone. She said something inaudible for a while before, then returned to Diana. "He'll be right down in a minute."

"Thank you, " Diana said when in actuality she wanted to say, "help me". She clenched her fist on her lap and moved uneasily on the chair, looking for a comfortable edge. There was none. There wouldn't be so long as the discomfort came from within. Anxiety hugged her tighter with each minute that passed. How close she came to meeting him face-to-face. What would she say to him? How would she say it? How would she make the craziness of the past 24 hours make sense to him? No, what if he didn't stay to listen? What if he—

"Diana?"

All the joints in her body froze up. It was only those in her neck that could move. She looked up at him, and seeing the angry disapproval on his face, looked back down, in the meek way of a child who'd just been scolded by his parents. She expected he would yell at her now, that he would insult and demand security. He didn't. He didn't do anything. He just left it for Diana to make the move.

"I wanted to see you."

Jason rose his brows. "But you're not Mallory."

"I know but—"

"You're not Mallory," he repeated again, in the tone one would use to say get out

The receptionist craned her neck towards them. "Um...is everything alright over there?"