Bad Liar | JamFilm

6.

"I said something I shouldn't have then. I'm sorry," Jam couldn't help but notice how Film tensed up in an instant, how his fingers holding the book trembled. Silence hung between them. Oppressive. Thorny. Burning every part of the soul with its coldness. A silence that begged to be broken by a scream, but all that escaped were silent tears.

"What do you need?" Jam felt disappointment, though he expected the response.

"Nothing... I... I was just worried," he confessed, realizing it was too late to retreat.

"Why? Because I'm your client?" A smirk played on Film's face, one that made Jam cringe. The man's eyes were cold. Lifeless.

"Because I hurt you," Jam sighed, watching as Film's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "No matter what my reason was, I had no right to cross that line like that."

Jam didn't hide his remorse. He truly felt insignificant. Perhaps it was his conscience or his excessive concern for others. Silvy had mentioned more than once that he was overly altruistic and that it would backfire on him one day, but Jam couldn't act any other way.

"You didn't hurt me," Film dryly stated, returning his gaze to the book. He could hear his own heartbeat. As much as he wanted to deny it, the barista was getting under his skin.

The strange feeling wouldn't go away.

"Lies," Jam shattered his facade completely, not even allowing him to wear it. They might have been practically strangers, but he had seen enough to notice how broken Film truly was.

People like him choose to shut down their feelings just to avoid feeling pain. But how long can a person lie to themselves? How long can they endure solitude when all those suppressed emotions resurface from every corner of their soul?

An irritated exhale came from the man's side, followed by the book being sharply closed and tossed onto the table. Film crossed his legs, leaning back against the chair's backrest, glaring at the barista with obvious bewilderment.

"What do you want?" When did they cross all these personal boundaries?

"I already told you..."

"No, you said you were worried," the man sharply interrupted, tiredly running a hand through his own hair, pushing strands back. Pain sobered him up, helping to quiet the fear. "What do you want?"

Jam, it seemed, for the first time in his life didn't know what to say.

"What if I don't want anything?" he attempted, maintaining composure outwardly, but his fingers still clenched into fists. Film arched an eyebrow at that, then his lips stretched into that unpleasant smirk, reeking of insincerity. But the man's laughter made Jam flinch, furrowing his brows in confusion. Film was laughing as if he heard nonsense spoken by a child, and Jam didn't like it.

"So, are you saying you came to me just to apologize?" Film tilted his head to the side, staring at his interlocutor with interest. Jam's gaze slid over the white patch of his neck, and he involuntarily swallowed. He usually had no problem keeping his composure, but this man once again threw him off balance.

"Yeah..."

"Is that what you're asking me?" Mockery. Jam pressed his lips together in annoyance, straightening his back and, for a couple of seconds, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts before saying:

"What do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

Film's laughter ceased in an instant, and silence hung between them. The smile vanished from Film's face as well. He looked lost, and Jam was sure he noticed the apprehension in his eyes.