Eight

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     Vienna had always been one of the cities I wanted to visit, so when I got off the plane, it felt surreal that one of my dreams came true, albeit in a strange way. About twenty feet from us were two black vans with a driver outside the door. They were standing in the exact same positions and it creeped me out, like some cult thing.

    Tom walked ahead of us and greeted the first driver while Harrison greeted the second. What was strange however, was that both drivers opened the doors so that Harrison and Tom could both drive. I tapped Mark's shoulder and asked him, "Isn't it the other way around?" "Usually, but not during Thackaray. You never know who the driver pledges allegiance to," he answered and I understood completely, especially with the mole thing going on.

    I was in the van Harrison drove and luckily I got shotgun. As he drove, I viewed the city in awe. Though the city did become modernized, it kept its architecture from the past and it warmed my heart to see this kind of beauty I couldn't get from the US. I watched as people roamed the streets and I longed to be one of them, an inhabitant from here. I wanted to see the beauty of Vienna everyday for the rest of my life. I wanted to live in the emotions I was feeling when I saw it.

    "Where are we staying?" I asked Harrison as he followed Tom. "At the Thackeray," he answered, "The building was made for us, practically. We wine, we dine, we sleep. It's a never ending party." I looked down at my t-shirt and running shorts and compared myself to the men in Rolexes and suits. They were ready for an event like this every day of the week. I, however, was not. I didn't even bring a gown because I didn't own one. Instead, I had brought my prom dress from my junior year of high school.

    A few minutes later, we pulled into a massive building that resembled the Palace of Versailles. "No way," I exclaimed, "This cannot be the Thackeray." Harrison laughed slightly and nodded, "Oh, but it is." As we spilled out of the vans, the drivers who were at the airport returned to their seats and pulled away to park them in a garage. Harrison offered to take my luggage but I politely refused, wanting to something on my own for a change. My independent streak ended, however, when Jacob held the door open for me.

    Though I was awestruck at the exterior, the inside of the Thackeray was breathtaking. There was a massive chandelier that illuminated the hall. The ceiling had a mural depicting the story of Orpheus and Eurydice in detail and around each smaller light was baby angel. This was my architectural dream. I was literally inside Heaven.

    "Close your mouth, Reese, you're not in America," Tom said and I did so but not without giving him a dirty look. I wanted to know what the fuck happened on that plane. I wanted to know why he was so close to kissing me and then suddenly wanted me out of his presence. What was I to him? Some toy that he could wind up and never let go? Was this apart of his master plan? He couldn't threaten me with weapons so he threatens me with intimacy?

     Tom handed each of the men a room key, but once he reached me he said, "You're with me." "I'm surprised you want to be near my presence," I snapped, getting a sly grin in return. "I told you I wasn't going to try anything. Did I not keep my promise?" He said and I wanted to hit him, but knowing that every single person in this building would shoot me in an instant if I touched him, I resorted to giving him the bird.  Goddamn this man. I hated everything about him.

    A few of the men took the elevator to get to their rooms, but Tom, Harrison, and I took the stairs. I never understood why he had an army of men he never wanted to be around. I figured if he could run the mafia in little numbers, it would be only him, Harrison, and Jacob.

    "Jesus, Tom. Can't we take the elevator once?" Harrison complained as we reached the third floor. I wasn't really exhausted from all the climbing, but my legs were starting to hurt. If Harrison hadn't said it, I would've. "Now that you've asked, no," Tom deadpanned and stopped on the fifth floor. The hallway was empty, which sent a sense of eerieness to my gut. It was like something from The Shining, only without the twins.

Noir (Tom Holland)Where stories live. Discover now