Sisi / Season 1

85⁒

I sit on the bus. It's empty. It's pretty late. I stayed longer than I wanted to at the costume party. It's black outside. The spots of streetlights are weak and flicker at me to piss me off. I finger my phone to pass the time. The bus turns in a detour.

Great. Now the way home is longer.

My sequence skirt itches me. I rudely stare at the new passenger that climbs on board. His hood is over his head. I can't quite see his face, but his nose sticks out. I can see a small cut over the bridge, like he's been in a fight. His hands are sucked in his pockets. He strides straight to the back of the bus, where old graffiti live. I've never seen him before. Maybe he only exists when the night comes.

I leave him to the dark side of the bus. Though, I wonder what his story is, prior to this moment.

I take a cautious glance back. His eyes are closed. I bet he's got money in his pockets. Maybe lots of money. Maybe a streetfighter.

I untangle my headphones. Just hold on we're going home.

Maybe he lives on the south shore. Maybe he's looking for a healer.

The bus stops again. The mall's empty parking lot comes into sight. Another passenger enters. A small girl like me. Except she doesn't look like she just came from a party. She has on a bright green raincoat, even though it's not raining. It matches the green bulb inside the bus. She doesn't acknowledge us sinners in the back. She sits on the first seat nearest the door and the driver.

It's hard to do these things alone.

I hate public transportation.

It's my time to disembark. I imagine what will go on when I'm gone. Maybe the jaded girl will see the streetfighter. No, not tonight. Maybe another night. She'll get on the bus and see him. She'll follow him to the south shore. He has nothing to offer her, but she won't care. Then the bus will go its normal route and they'll all disappear.

·•●⦁·

dance... –  johnny rain

I walk on the pavement leading up to the stairs. The pull I got from the thrift shop isn't doing much good against the cold.

J soon comes into view, smoking by the entry. I knew he live in this apartment.

I just stare at him. I'm too tired to act insane or sensual or anything.

I brush my hair behind my shoulders.

"What a lovely night, seeing you here," I say.

I meant to smile, but my lips stayed where they were.

"How was the party?" he asks, his forehead creasing up.

"Good," I nod, staring at the hazy lights emanating from other's windows.

"Who'd you dance with?" he smokes.

I pause and give him back my eyes. I don't know what to make of that question.

"If you really wanted to know," I respond slowly, "You should've come and see."

He flicks his cigarette into the nice plant arrangement in the front. No, he doesn't care. He's above that.

Silence is faithful to us.

Then his hand lifts, inquiring that I hold it. I swallow hard. At least I got my nails done. He pulls me towards him. Strikingly close. I smell his smoke, his damaged vocal cords, and his mixed pills off his tongue. Stricklingly close.

"Doesn't matter anyway," he tells me with a daunting smile, "You'll dance for me."

My head backs up, not getting him. But he brings me inside the hallways.

I usually go to the right. He takes me to the left. We walk up the stairs, all of the stairs. He must be lit or something.

"I'm not dancing for you," I warn him.

He glances back at me. We're on the top floor. Up here, there's a small sun lounge, but no sun.

"But you want to," J says.

I roll my eyes.

It didn't stop him from slamming me against his door. I try to not look shocked.

God, if you can hear me...

This guy leans in. No, I've never been kissed. But he doesn't know. Or he does, I don't know. I don't pucker like they do in the movies.

The closer he gets, the darker the shadows become on his face. My eyelids lower from his spell. I feel his lips press on mine. I don't move at all. I don't breathe either, in fear of air poisoning. I hear him ram his key in the lock behind me.

Short and bittersweet. He pulls away, staring at me. I stare back. His eyes look like a Rembrandt painting from here. Dark, with a lot of light in them.

"I'm not impressed," I say in a low voice.

I watch his brows twitch, as though he wasn't expecting that.

"Should I kiss you harder?" he asks, smirking.

I blink, answering, "And make a fool of yourself? No."

He straightens his head on his shoulders.

"You're hurting my ego," he raises a brow, grinning.

I look away and sigh.

"I didn't know you had one."

He gives me a weird look, trying to figure me out like a calculus problem. I'm a mathematical fallacy. It's not easy to isolate x. If he thinks he can get me in his apartment... The queen dances for no man.

I act cool.

"Goodnight," I say, nonchalantly walking back the way we came.

·•●⦁·