Anonymous J || ONC2024

Part Two • Love

I breathe in deeply, squeezing my eyes shut. My fingers grip the edge of the basin tightly as I exhale and hunch over the sink. I listen to the dripping of water from the faucet, allowing the sound to fill my mind and wash out everything that had occupied the space.

Slowly, I stand straight and meet my reflection in the mirror. My eyes immediately fix onto where my turtleneck loosened and failed to cover. A faded bruise is exposed on my skin.

A scowl etches into my lips as I realise he could probably see it the whole time and said nothing. Why would he? It’s practically a trophy for that psychopath.

A memory comes to mind of how wide he was grinning when he noticed the bruise forming that day. I close my eyes again and shake my head in an attempt to discard the image.

Tugging on the material, I also bring my hair forward for extra coverage. With another check in the mirror, I straighten up and exit the restrooms.

As the door swings shut behind me, I’m unfortunately brought back into the reality that is the extravagant establishment I’m trapped in. The calm jazz melody plays smoothly, seemingly adding a feeling leisure to the atmosphere although it brings suffocation to me. My eyes scour the restaurant. Bobbing from table to table of groups or couples sporting accessories and clothes worth more than my full tuition, dining on dishes and delicacies I struggle to pronounce, I land on eyes gazing back at me.

For no more than a second, I freeze. The thought of leaving, just turning left and dashing out of the opulent room and never turning back crosses my mind, putting a halt in my movement. As that second passes, I take a decisive step forward followed by another and another until I reach the table he’s seated at.

Of course, he picked a booth at the far end of the room with low lighting. However, I do prefer that over having a massive chandelier tipped with crystals dangling over my head. Though I’ve been living with that feeling of danger for a week now.

Julian smiles at me as I slide into my seat across him. I adjust myself, trying not to sink into the plush leather padding. I pick up my phone to avoid seeing him inspect every inch of my body and face. I see a massage from my dad asking to meet. Again.

“Are you not close with your dad?” He asks.

I peer at him. “I’m not close, but not distant.”

He rests both elbows on the table. “You frowned when you saw the message. And you look uncomfortable now.”

I set down my phone facedown and meet his gaze. “I’m frowning and look uncomfortable because I’m in some overly fancy restaurant I’m not dressed for, that you didn’t tell me we were going to and I still have to look at your face.”

My words only widen his smile. Of course. “I figured I’d surprise you and take you somewhere nice as a treat for doing well on the test yesterday. But if this is too much, then we won’t go somewhere like this again.”

“Whatever.”

He narrows his eyes at me but doesn’t say anything. A waiter arrives at the table shortly after. “Have you reached a decision?”

Julian doesn’t let me talk. “We’ll have dessert.” I shoot him a glare which he ignores, finding more interest in staring intently at the waiter with a blank face. “The Marble Parisian Flan for both of us.”

With a nod, he notes it down and leaves. “I said I didn’t want any dessert,” I hiss. Julian looks back to me. “Are you trying to keep me here longer?”

“I’m glad your observational skills aren’t lacking when it comes to me.”

“Fuck you.”

That brings back his smile.