I am rotten, from the deepest roots of the heart. That doesn't mean I'm a criminal.
But it's worse.
#New York, NY
#The Plaza, New York
This is my favorite place, one of the most famous luxury hotel. Here, I met quite a few women.
Through the cigarette smoke, a woman is watching me, her gaze meaningful, yet greedy. I know what that means. If it were a normal day, I would have just pretended not to be able to resist such a flirtation, but today I don't want to do that.
I rose from the bed, slipped on a robe, grabbed some cigarettes, and headed out to the terrace.
*sight*
On the surface it's not a bad life, no, It will be close to a successful life. I was the youngest Chef to be awarded the prestigious three Michelin stars for my very first restaurant. But that was only the start of my journey: over the last six years, I have continued to accumulate successes, totaling four major industry awards. These trophies prove that my commitment to excellence and my culinary talent are consistent and recognized at the highest level.
Before I knew it, everyone wanted to be with me, but it meant nothing to me.
I roughly flicked the shortened cigarette out onto the terrace, immediately took out a second one, and put it in my mouth. Whenever I see the smoke, my mind feels a little more at ease.
Five marriages and five divorces. All the women I lived with were unhappy. At one point, they all said that I didn't seem to love myself. Although I didn't answer properly, they were right. Seeing an emptiness that cannot be filled no matter how much I try must have been unbearably painful for them.
"You wil be alone for the rest of your life."
"No one can be with you."
I also clearly remember the last words they said. So after paying alimony to my five ex-wives, I drowned all the remaining money into alcohol and women. I know it sounds stupid. There have been times when I thought I should stop, but that couldn't be done. I don't know why either, if I knew why, I would have stopped long ago. Am I weak-willed? Maybe that could be the case.
-------------------
I felt a little relieved as I stood on the top floor terrace of the Plaza, again, the mood quickly darkens. I didn't want to live like this really.
An ordinary family, an ordinary life. That's all I ever wanted. But now, I am left with nothing.
"Fuck it."
Suddenly I raised my eyes towards the sky, ah I hate that sky so much.
Ever since I was five years old, when my parents died in an accident and I was left in the care of relatives, I hated the existence of the sky. My relatives: a woman who just needed money and a man who was not very interested in me.
Regardless, I have never received love. It was a series of abuses followed by more abuses. While I was living those days of helplessness and submitting to the violence, I met someone who changed my life completely.
I remember my uncle's apartment. It smelled of cheap cigarettes and old grease. I was ten, hiding in the laundry room after taking another beating, when the door creaked open. It wasn't my aunt, nor my uncle.
It was Leo.
He was the landlord's son, maybe fifteen years old, and he looked like a god to a kid like me. He didn't say a word. He just threw a cheap, worn-out football at my feet. "Stop sniffing. Get up," he said.
From then on, my obsession with football was consuming. As I was in a bad shape physically, I never really thought of being professional so when I was old enough, I did everything possible to start a new life far away from my relatives and that's how I miraculously ended up in a kitchen, and since then I just leveled up to be where I am now.
The fierceness with which I lived each day gradually lessened the pain in my heart, but now I realize I was merely covering it up with work. My emptiness came from losing the people I loved most.
*CRASH
A bottle of alcohol that had fallen on the terrace floor rolled away. Seeing this made me feel very drunk. Suddenly, the moon looked beautiful. The moment I reached out, the ground vanished beneath my feet. Slowly, the world began to tilt, the wind blowing against my body became stronger and stronger.
'Oh, am I falling?'
Feeling the gravity, I closed my eyes. The moment I felt tears welling up in my closed eyes, a pain that I couldn't express in words surged through my entire body. And it faded as quickly as it was intense, the same goes for consciousness.
'At least I'm done with this fucking life.'
------------------
...?
....!
"..!"
What ?
I see. I definitely fell from The Plaza. There really is such a thing as an afterlife. But why won't my eyes open?
"~~~~~~"
"~~~~~~"
I hear something, yet I can't make it out; it sounds like I'm underwater. I concentrated on listening with all my might, and slowly, the sounds began to clear.
"...mooi....kijk"
"Morgen ..... je ouders..."
Wait a second, what I just heard is not English. What the hell is going on? More importantly, why can't I speak?
I tried my best to keep my voice down but only something resembling a groan escaped my lips. Soon, a warm feeling enveloped me. It also seemed to smell good, and then I heard the sound again.
"~~~~~~"
I understand that this is a language I've never heard before, and it's a song—there was a melody. Strangely enough, the moment I heard this unknow language, I felt at ease and fell into a deep sleep.
'You're already dead and you're sleeping again? Death is an eternal sleep, so should I just close my eyes like this? Forever? Maybe now I am in the final stage before being sent to hell.'
That's cruel, this kind of warmth before going to hell. I never thought I'd feel that kind of feeling before going to hell, a feeling that reminds me of a time long ago that I can't remember. Death is supposed to be simple. This is just needlessly complicated.
-----------------
BING!
A screen, translucent and stark, materialized behind my closed eyelids, floating in the center of the blackness. The letters were stark white, clean, and horribly jarring against the fuzzy comfort.
[System Boot Sequence Initiated.]
[Current Vessel Designated: Unknown.]
[Loading... Reality Synchronization: 5%...]
'What the fuck is this?'
I tried to scream, to lash out at the blinding text, but only that weak, pathetic moan escaped my lips. The text didn't react.
[Reality Synchronization Complete: 100%.]
[WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF FOOTBALL.]
[Primary Objective Assigned: Utilize the System to ACHIEVE PERFECTION.]
[Status Window Now Available.]
The message vanished, leaving only a small, unobtrusive icon glowing faintly in the corner of my vision.
The warm presence tightened around me, and the lullaby in the strange language resumed. I especially hated the stupid little floating icon. But the exhaustion, the pain from the fall, the confusion—it all dragged me back down into the depths.
Whatever this is, it's going to be a massive headache.