With wrinkled fingertips, she turned off the water tap, placed the cutlery on the slanted shelf table that could no longer bear the heavy load. She tightened the strings of her apron behind her waist, took a broom in her right hand, and played a song on her old phone, whose sound was no longer pleasant to hear.
The song played:
I've always known, deep in my core,
That love just dies, it's a pointless war.
So we find our armor, we learn the game,
To build our own fortress and bear the shame.
And I've mastered this art, this cold retreat,
Keeping all strangers off my street.
I swore that this void was a choice I made,
That the silence I cultivated never frayed.
'Cause letting you in? It's a guaranteed miss.
Nothing is ever worth the risk.
The door slammed open. Eva threw a large bag, already stuffed with clothes and whatever belongings she could grab. At the listless body curled up on the floor mattress. No bed frame, no sheets. Just the pungent stench of garbage and a dirty floor that made her even more furious.
"Get up, you lazy good-for-nothing!"
Flo rubbed her eyes. Her long, thinning hair was a tangled mess over her pale, exhausted face. She stayed silent, clutching a musty, worn-out pillow. Her back was pressed into the corner of the room, like a wounded animal ready to either attack or flee.
"Starting today, we're leaving this place! It's already rented out tomorrow. I've packed all your things, even those expensive medications! Now get up, it's six in the evening! All you do is sleep!"
Suddenly, Flo moved. Without a word, she grabbed the bag, which was heavier than she was, and took only one thing: a faded black cat plushie. It was the only thing that had always been with her.
"I WASN'T FINISHED TALKING!" Eva hurled an envelope adorned with colorful glitter. "From now on, we won't be living together. I'm moving in with my boyfriend."
Flo picked up the envelope with trembling hands. Written inside were the words:
Exclusive Blind Date: Kenshin Restaurant
Dresscode: Glamour Black
Her breath hitched. The envelope fell again. Her hand clenched the cat plushie tighter, her chest tightened, a panic attack setting in. "I-I can't go to a place like this"
Abruptly, Eva pulled her into a hug. "We don't have a choice," she whispered harshly. "Find a man who can take care of you. We can't go on like this: poor, miserable. No matter what… we're just two weak women with no parents to rely on."
She released Flo and started cleaning up the messy room. "You really never want to clean up, do you?!"
But Flo was already gone.
Her thin frame dragged the large bag behind her. Her left hand gripped the cat plushie as if it were her very life. Eva could only watch her from behind, forcing a smile.
"...Can't we at least part on warmer terms?" Her voice broke. "No matter what, I'm your sister. You know that, right? Forgive me. I… I have no choice."
Her tears fell.
Outside, the sky cried with her. A heavy downpour drenched everything, thunder rumbling loudly. Flo walked aimlessly, the rain soaking her hair and her thin clothes. In her head, only one sentence played on a loop:
"God, can I just give up now?"
She looked up. The sky was as dark as her life, devoid of light, devoid of hope. Thunder rumbled, but Flo didn't care. She kept walking, her body drenched, her hair plastered to cheeks that were likely wet with tears too. The heavy rain seemed to want to wash away all her sorrow, or perhaps drown her in it even deeper.
Honk!
The sound of an old car's horn was barely audible over the roar of the rain and the turmoil in Flo's mind. She kept walking, as if the world around her wasn't real.
Then, someone grabbed her arm.
"Flo! I've been calling your name!"
A grown man stood beside her, an umbrella held over both their heads. Flo stared at him with a vacant look, as if seeing right through him, piercing something that wasn't even there.
"Come on, get in the car. I'll take you to the restaurant."
Flo didn't resist. She slid into the back seat, her cat plushie held tightly to her chest, the now soggy and torn invitation still clutched in her hand.
"Forgive us, Flo," the man said, his eyes occasionally glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "Eva had no choice but to rent out the house. For living expenses... and your medication."
Flo didn't respond. She just stared out the window, where the rain streamed down like a curtain separating her from the world.
Kenshin Restaurant - Lobby
The car stopped in front of the luxurious restaurant. A doorman immediately opened the door, but Flo felt her feet were heavy as if weighed down by stones. Every step felt forced.
"May I see your invitation, Ma'am?"
Flo didn't give it to him. Her fingers tightened around the envelope, if only she could tear it up and run.
"My apologies, Ma'am. I didn't see you were holding it. Please, come in."
The doorman escorted her to the reception desk. The woman behind it looked her over with a strange gaze.
"Are you here for the blind date event, Ma'am?" Her eyes swept over Flo, who was wearing only soaked pajamas and had disheveled hair. "But... the dress code is glamour black. You don't meet the requirements."
Flo's heart, which had been pounding wildly, suddenly grew calm. I'm being rejected. It felt like relief.
She sat in a waiting chair near the reception, pulling her medication box from her bag. Her hands trembled as she opened the lid.
"Now, no one will stop me."
Her mind was clear for the first time in ages. She grabbed a handful of pills, ready to swallow them.
"Hey, Serin! Sorry to keep you waiting!"
A strange voice shattered her concentration. A tall man in a black suit, damp from the rain, was smiling at her.
"...I'm not Serin?"
But the man had already put his arm around her, casually placing his things on the reception desk.
"She's my blind date! Let us in."
"But, Sir! She's wearing pajamas!"
Completely unfazed, the man firmly took Flo's hand and pulled her, dragging her into the restaurant.
Flo stumbled, but his grip was warm and solid. Like the only real thing in this world that was starting to blur.
Kenshin Restaurant - The Blind Date Event
The air inside the restaurant was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and fake smiles. The mysterious man in the suit released Flo from his hold and let out a deep sigh. His eyes scanned the room: men in tuxedos and women in glamorous black kebayas were putting on an act, laughing in pitches that were a little too high.
"If my mother hadn't forced me, I wouldn't be in a place like this," he muttered, wiping his nose with a handkerchief as if trying to block out the overpowering fragrance.
Flo studied his face. He's... just like me. His gaze was full of disdain, like her own reflection in her bedroom mirror, the one she always stared at emptily.
He caught her looking. For a moment, they just stood in silence, as if understanding each other without words. Then, in an unexpected move, he brushed a hand through Flo's still-damp hair.
"Next time, don't try to end your life, okay?"
And just like that, he walked away.
Flo stood frozen. What a strange person. But for some reason, his presence felt like an oasis in the desert of her loneliness. His back-broad, resolute-reminded her of the shadow of a father who had long been gone.
No. I can't cry here.
She slipped into a corner, hoping no one would notice her.
"Ma'am, no hiding! The event is about to start!"
A waitress wearing a loup mask grabbed her hand and pulled her into the center of the room. There, men stood in neat rows, each holding a paper listing their "achievements" salary, job title, properties as if they were items up for auction.
Flo trembled. Her eyes darted around, trying to find that man among the crowd of anonymous masks. Where is he? But the lights were too dim, and the sea of unfamiliar faces began to feel suffocating.
"Alright, esteemed ladies! Please choose your preferred gentleman by writing your name on their papers!"
Music blared. The lights suddenly flashed on, blindingly bright. Flo felt her chest tighten. Her hand clenched the cat plushie tighter, her fingers pressing into it so hard they nearly tore the fabric.
I can't. I can't do this.
She turned around, ran back to the corner, and slid down to the floor. Her tears fell silently.
God, please. I want to leave.
Amidst the strange crowd and the fake glitter, Flo just wanted to disappear.
Flo curled up in the corner, her face buried between her knees. Her hands gripped her own hair tightly as if pulling hard enough might rip all the pain right out of her head.
"I hate myself. Why am I even here?"
A waiter approached, carrying a tray of glasses filled with a sparkling yellow drink.
"Ma'am, are you tired? Here's some fresh lemon!"
But Flo didn't hear him. Her world was filled with only dark whispers:
"Everyone must be laughing at me right now. I don't belong here. I'm ugly. I'm worthless."
In the distance, the host's voice boomed:
"Now we enter the approach phase! Esteemed gentlemen, please meet the ladies who chose you!"
Loud laughter, blaring music, the clinking of glasses, it all merged into a torturous buzz in Flo's ears. She covered them tightly with her hands.
"I have to escape. Now."
She bolted for the exit, pushing against the door in a panic. But the heavy glass door didn't budge.
"OPEN!" Her fist hit the glass once, twice. But no one cared. People were busy with their laughter and partying.
Flo slid back down to the floor.
"Forgive me, Eva... I failed."
She looked around at the tables where strangers were toasting each other with lavish dishes. Her stomach growled, but it was easier to starve than to ask for food among people who looked down on her.
Suddenly, a tall shadow blocked the light in front of her.
The man in the suit was back, holding up a paper scrawled with women's names in lipstick.
"Serin, right? Finally found you."
Flo shook her head, her voice hoarse: "That's... not my writing."
But the man had already swept her frail body up into his arms: bridal style.
"Let's eat. You must be hungry."
The entire room fell silent. Sharp whispers cut through the air:
"He picked that weird girl? But he's the most eligible man here!"
Flo was placed in the most luxurious chair, right across from him.
"Order anything," he said, his gaze piercing into Flo's still-teary eyes. "It's on me."
Flo's heart was pounding, but for the first time that night, it wasn't out of fear.
There was something in the way this man looked at her...
As if he could see the real her, not just the human wreck in soggy pajamas.
Kenshin Restaurant - Fine Dine
The thick menu in Flo's hands felt like a stone. Her eyes scanned the list of unfamiliar dishes: foie gras, truffle, caviar.. words she had never heard in her bleak life.
"Foie gras… is that some kind of grass? I don't like vegetables," she murmured, her trembling fingers turning the pages.
Half an hour passed, and Flo still hadn't decided on anything. But suddenly, a waiter arrived with the appetizers: black bread topped with glistening caviar for the man, and a row of colorful mini tarts for Flo.
"I ordered the mini tarts for you," the man said, his voice calm. "They're sweet and sour, should help wake up your appetite. There's fruit in them too, good for your health."
Flo stayed silent. Her hand reached for a spoon, but her trembling made a tart fall. Clink! The spoon hit the plate, the sound sharply breaking the silence at their table.
A few couples glanced over, whispering:
"She dropped food on the first date? How embarrassing!"
But the man just smiled. "If your hands are shaking, just eat with your fingers. I brought hand sanitizer."
Flo nodded, cleaned her hands, then picked up a tart with her fingers. The sweet and tangy flavor instantly flooded her mouth. Her pale cheeks suddenly flushed.
"This… is delicious!"
Without realizing it, she devoured all the tarts on the plate, even choking a little in her haste. The water in the crystal glass was just a sip, too little to help.
"Bring a large glass of mineral water," the man ordered the waiter.
As soon as the water arrived, Flo gulped it all down. Her breathing eased.
Then, in a small voice, she asked:
"…Why did you pick me?"
The man chewed his caviar slowly before answering:
"Because I understand people like you."
He set down his fork, looking intently at Flo.
"Did you escape from a mental hospital? What's your diagnosis?"
Flo froze. He knows.
Trembling, she pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her cat plushie's pocket: the diagnosis report she always carried with her.
"I'm… an outpatient. I don't have money for hospitalization."
He read the paper, his eyes widening.
"Major Depressive Disorder…?"
Without another word, he signaled the waiter.
"Pack all the food to go. Also, this is your tip."
Then, before Flo could protest, he lifted her again: bridal style and whispered:
"Let's escape from here."
Those four words made Flo's heart race.
Not out of fear.
But because, for the first time in her life…
Someone was asking her to run toward something, not away from the darkness.
The air in the restaurant suddenly felt thick and hot as his held Flo tightly, then-krrrt! teeth tore through the invitation envelope with a rough motion. The sound of ripping paper sharply shattered Flo's silence.
"I, Delcroix, choose this woman as my partner!"
He looked at Flo, his eyes gleaming like heated steel.
"You just need one loud voice to get out of here. Do it."
Flo closed her eyes. Her whole body trembled, but deep in her chest, something began to crack, the wall that had been holding her back all this time.
"I-I am Floriska! I choose this man as my partner!"
Her voice broke, but it was loud enough. Her hands tore the envelope, throwing the pieces into the air, shredded paper scattered under the crystal chandelier like confetti of rebellion.
"Good job," Delcroix whispered, a small smile spreading. "I'm proud of you."
A roar of applause erupted. But they were already running out of the restaurant, leaving all the stunned stares behind.
In the Luxury Car
The elderly servant dutifully opened the car door. Delcroix carefully settled Flo into the soft back seat, then sat beside her. The engine purred, carrying them away from the commotion.
Delcroix immediately rummaged through Flo's shabby bag, searching for her medication box.
"You need to take these first. Why would someone with MDD like you dare to come to such an event? It could trigger a psychosis!"
Flo stayed silent. No one had ever insisted on giving her medication with a face so full of genuine concern.
She swallowed the pills: SSRI and SNRI under Delcroix's watchful gaze.
"Good. Now rest."
"...Thank you," Flo murmured, hugging her cat plushie tighter. Her chest felt warm, strangely so.
"Where do you live? I'll take you home."
That simple question made Flo's tears burst forth.
Delcroix didn't press. He just held Flo's hand: not too tightly, but enough to feel real.
"My house... it's been rented out," Flo finally spoke, her voice hoarse. "For my sister's living expenses... and my medications."
Delcroix nodded. Then, in a voice that was calm yet left no room for refusal:
"In that case, stay at my place for a while. Do you mind?"
Flo trembled. But her crying stopped.
"You're... not a bad person, are you? I'll try to trust you because... I have no other choice."
Delcroix smiled. Not a cynical or manipulative smile, but something deeper.
"I'm not a bad person. At least, not to someone like you."
The car sped on, taking them away from the dazzling city lights, perhaps toward something darker, or perhaps something brighter. Flo didn't know.
But for the first time in her life, she wanted to find out.