Their Days of Nights

10 : Stairs

Benjamin

We're standing near the edge of the sidewalk outside of The Stage. Cars continuously pass by on our side.

A breeze of wind flips her artificial hair, and she tucks them behind her ear. She squints from the heat of the almost high noon sun.

"What do you want, Benjamin?"

Her voice is low, thick, and sharp. It cuts inside me like a blade.

I deserve that, I know.

I try to say something within the context of 'I'm so glad to see you.' But she stares at me like I'm just a figment of her imagination. And I just swallow the words.

I let out an exhausted sigh and search around the street for a taxi.

"Where do you live?" I ask. "Let me take you home first."

She creases her eyebrows.

"Please, let me take you home."

A white and green taxi stops in front of us, and I open the door to the backseat. Kim is still looking at me with her piercing stare. But she goes inside, agitatedly and reluctantly. I follow and slam the door.

The driver looks at me through the rearview mirror.

Right, of course, I have no idea where she lives.

"Uh, Kim...where...?"

"Rizal Street," she quickly says.

That's not far from here.

The driver nods and starts driving us off.

I breathe in and out and look away from her.

After four sad years, she's this close to me again, yet it feels like she's miles away. And she reeks of alcohol.

We're near the corner of that street. There's a gas station on the left and a Jollibee on the right.

She gives the instruction to turn left and asks to be dropped off in front of a beige five-story building on the other side of the road. And the driver maneuvers the car.

The meter seems rigged. It shouldn't cost this much, but I pay for the overpriced ride anyway.

"This is where you live?" I ask Kim.

We're standing in an open parking space in front of a pawnshop. There's an entrance to a basement parking at the leftmost side and a brown glass door leading to a small lobby on its right. A security guard is standing outside it and next to the window of the pawnshop.

"Upstairs," she says.

She nods at the guard and pushes the door open.

There's a wooden bench on the side, under the tinted windows. A hallway leads further back to what I assume is the rest of the pawnshop.

She starts going up to the marble staircase, and I do the same, a couple of steps behind.

The second floor is an office. Its doors are open, and I hear people chatting and laughing inside. It's a law office, says so on the nameplate above the doorframe.

By the time we reach the landing going to the third floor, she has slowed down and is holding on to the railings.

It's quieter here. There's a double door on the right side of the stairs. It's made of dark wood that complements the walls surrounding it. There's a welcome mat on the floor and a Christmas wreath hanging on one of the doors. This must be a residential unit and covers the whole level like an apartment or a condo.