vile

ch1

A few months ago.

I've never ever cared that Icarus flew before he fell because in the end, he just fell. The only thing I wondered if he was genuinely happy that he got the chance to escape and to fly or if he regretted it while falling to his death.

My body shivered as I combed my dark hair back. It was wet. Probably because I have been sitting here on the rooftop under the rain for the past forty minutes, watching the colourful spots of cars under my dangling feet.

300 feet, at least, I would say. I wasn't good at guessing.

What would be worse? The realization that I still wanted to live while falling, or the knowledge that there was no life left for me anyways?

I wasn't even sure why I was still contemplating. I wasn't going to jump anyway. I was a coward.

And still, I couldn't move away from the edge.

I wished a strong wind storm would just push me down, taking my choice and the responsibility away, but the air was as calm as never before on this rooftop, as if to mock me.

But instead of a wind blow, something else appeared. Or rather, someone else.

"You chose a good day to kill yourself. I admire your taste."

My head swung to the man who was suddenly standing next to me, his hands were behind his back.

I only saw blond, buzzed hair and a tall build before I looked down again.

"Are you ignoring me?", he asked, nudging my back with his arm, and I tensed.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know why you are sitting on this damn rooftop for almost one hour if you know you are not going to jump anyway."

My eyes widened at him. "You were watching me?" I was baffled. Would he have just watched if I was actually jumping down?

"Yes, I was. And I think what you are doing is sad."

I scoffed, "I don't want your pity-"

"Not sad sad", he interrupted me. "Pathetic sad. Really, really pathetic."

I frowned. "Thanks for your criticism. I will think about it while falling down."

He chuckled. "Do you know what you need?"

"A gun in my mouth?"

"No... Or maybe for another time."

I raised my eyebrow at him.

"What you need is hope."

His answer surprised me enough that I eventually looked at his face. He had blue eyes, high cheek bones and full lips that stretched to a wide smile.

"Hope?"

"Yes. Why else would you want to kill yourself?" He answered the question for himself. "It's because you think whatever is going on in your life is not getting better."

"Because it isn't... and it won't."

"Let me prove you otherwise."

"How?" My voice was barely a whisper and I wondered if I already grew hopeful. How naive of me.

"Work for me."

I frowned. "Who are you even?"

He laughed, one hand rubbing over the blond stubbles of his buzz cut. "You don't recognize me, Jewel? Is it the hair cut?"

My heart thrummed in my ears as my eyes widened at him. "How do you know my name?"

He raised an eye brow. "You are Horace's little stepsister, aren't you? You work under him for his infamous organisation, QWERTZ. Are you still his secretary or did he finally promote you?"