I was heading home. My red heels were scraping my ankles and the weight of my red bag was slicing at my fingers. I had grown so tired, yet I hadn't covered even half of the distance to my apartment.
I didn't realize when the sun disappeared and the dark sky arrived; time in that pub had slipped away like that wine in my glass.
"Aghh." I hissed as my tired muscles forced me to stop right there on the pavement, my aching ankles begging for a break.
I let out a jagged breath and looked up, running fingers through my messy hair, …. the sky was hosting a gala of stars, and the moon was the guest of honor.
And then, just like that, my heart resumed throbbing, – an old ache I tried to drink away in that pub.
I hated that it was back. But then again it never really leaves, does it? It just sinks into the background until it's quiet enough to hear it again.
Even the sky was cruel to me; not letting me forget my misery.
With that ache in my chest, I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes, then flicked my gaze from the sky to the road. I didn't wish to stare at the sky for another second.
So, I resumed my journey to my bed. It was the only thing that welcomed me with open arms anymore and the only place I wished to be at that moment.
Every shop in that dark and narrow alley had shut down and an oppressive silence was echoing, apart from the pattering sound of my heels. Just a few people appeared, rushing. Someone might have been waiting for them at home. A beautiful wife, a lovely girlfriend, or maybe adorable children.
There it was, a fuel to my fire, another poke to my wound. I snapped my gaze back to the road ahead, walking, and kept my eyes glued to the pavement, refusing to look back at them.
It wasn't that I was truly alone in that vast universe; I had a family. But they lived far — or perhaps it's better to say, I had chosen to live away from them.
I cherished the freedom I had earned at the age of 25. I treasured it, even at the age of 30. The days I spent alone were peaceful.
I always thought that was all I needed.
But later I discovered, it was not.
It was my fault I didn't realize what I truly wanted was not just freedom. Because there was this pain living in my chest. A deep void that gnawed through me, and nothing seemed to blunt its teeth. Not even when I found out the name of the medicine for it.
It turned out that the work of the medicine didn't matter; it was the packaging that had to be of my liking and I never found that wrapper of bright colors.
Walking straight, I was avoiding looking back at those happy people, but could not stop myself from being pulled by their radiating bliss. I looked back. It was so hard not to gaze at the euphoria I desired. Even though it pierced through me every time I laid my eyes on it. I knew I could not have it yet I wanted it so badly.
Thankfully, they had disappeared into the dark. I felt a thousand-pound weight lifted over my chest.
With a breath of relief I turned once again, to follow the curve of the alley when something soft and squishy gave way under my heel. It was gross—the kind of feeling that makes your stomach turn instantly.
I looked down to see what it was, but my head began to spin, and my temples throbbed. The discomfort played with my posture and sight. My feet slightly stumbled, and a thin layer of swirling mist appeared before my eyes for a few seconds before I grumbled and jerked my heavy head. The pain mellowed and the vapor before my eyes disappeared.
Relaxing, I bent to find out it was a delicate rose, its stem crushed under the sole of my shoe. The stem was completely mangled. I was apologetic for what I had done to it. Instantly, I lifted my sole off the flower, and brought it near my eyes, straightening my sore back.
It was so beautiful, glistening with dazzling crimson color, as if someone had just clipped it off a garden.
Its scent almost pulled me in a trance, yet if asked what it smelled like, I would not be able to answer. A desire to return it to its owner suddenly surged through me.
How the owner will be so happy to find their lost love!
But the alley was just as empty as before.
Maybe there was someone ahead on the road and that one flower had slipped off their bouquet or the trug.
I did not even give myself a second thought and rushed ahead, searching for the image of the owner in my mind. Maybe a lady or a man, holding a bouquet or a trug.
Rushing, I wandered deep into the alley but could find no one who matched the vision in my head— I looked everywhere.
I still walked deeper. Hope was slowly fading, my feet slugging, the emptiness and the fact that I couldn't even find the owner felt like just another failure to add to the list. I couldn't even do this one simple thing right.
The pain of failure laid heavy over me, making me feel so intensely down when a soft glow washed upon me.
I looked at its direction and found something which was not supposed to be there. An enormous building.
It was never there. I had never seen it there.
Under the protection of enormous metal gates, it loomed over all the buildings in that alley. The tip of it was touching the misty sky. The glow which washed upon me was radiating from words etched in glowing cursive letters, on the head of the first floor. Hotel — THE BOOTH.
I was drunk but not that drunk to not realise its impossible presence. For a second I just stared at it. "The Booth?" Hotel?
Not only was its presence unreal, its name was just as unfathomable. I wondered if I had just not noticed it before, but I crossed that part of the alley every day. It was impossible that I did not notice it.
Feeling an eerie heaviness, confusion, and a returning ache in my ankle, I clutched the cold metal bar to fix my shoe when suddenly, — a flash. White, bright and blinding.
In an instant, I was standing somewhere else.
In the middle of an enormous hotel lobby; towering crimson walls, carmine carpet under my feet, and a twinkling chandelier illuminating amber above it all.
There was no one: on the reception, on my left, in the clusters of dark black couches, in the lobby bar, on my right, on the round ivory stairs that connected the stories above or around the restaurant reservation desk.
I think I went into a coma, frozen for a second. Everything was just dazed.
Where the fuck am I?
My breath seized in my chest in that pin drop silence, my skin crawling with this negative feeling, getting worse by the second —
"Welcome!"
An enticingly sweet voice broke from behind me, right where the reception was. A shiver ran down me, I turned around.
A woman in red was standing behind the wooden counter, looking directly at me, smiling, her hands joined on the counter.
Where did she come from?
My chest heaved with fear, my pulse rushing like the thoughts in my head. Still instead of running, I just stood there, unable to even move a finger.
"We've been waiting for you." She spoke, her tone honeyed yet crippling, as she placidly rounded the counter and moved towards me with smooth steps.
The red silk on her slender body streamed like her draped hair decorated with a red rose on the left, smooth and sinuous.
With each step she took my breaths hastened, my lungs tightening along my chest. I felt like I'd drop dead any second. I was lost in that mere distance between us, which she was wiping away.
Then suddenly she was standing an inch from me. I stumbled a step back, my throat straining — "I hope you did not face any problem reaching here." She was poised and vibrant; her skin so pale it practically glowed, her lips lush and red.
"W-what?" I breathed. In disbelief.
"He's waiting for you, ma'am. Don't make him wait or he might lose his mind." She said, reaching for my palm.
Right before she could grasp it, I jerked her hand away and asked. "Wha-what is happening?"
"You'll understand." She successfully grasped my hand, right before I could react and placed a black card in my palm.
"What is this place?" I asked.
"It's the hotel, you just saw."
My breath hitched, my gaze flickering. How did she know that?
"You seem – are you alright?" She asked, concerned.
My mind went totally blank, dizzying, my body losing its composure. I tried contemplating everything that was happening and when I could not I asked the stupidest question. "Why – why am I here? — How am I here?"
"You found the rose on the road. It chose you and brought you here and why you are here is because of what you desire." She explained.
"A man?"
"Yes."
"It's not possible. How is it possible?" I asked.
"I know it's unbelievable, but it's true. We serve the ones who get chosen by the rose. The ones who deserve it and lack something. Like you."
I could feel nothing, could understand nothing. She was talking gibberish. Who would believe that? I was not that crazy to trust her.
"You're going to hurt me, aren't you?"
"Ofcourse not!" She giggled, but also sounded slightly offended, covering her mouth. "Why would I do that to my guest? And even if I wanted to, I would've, by now. I wouldn't chit-chat with you."
I was on the verge of breaking down, my tone tight in my throat, my head spinning from whatever she was spouting about.
"I need to – I need to go. I – I want to go." And began looking for an exit.
"You can't." She said, dead tone — I looked back, "why? ….I want to go. Why can't I leave?" I boomed, my gaze piercing through her.
"Because if you wanted to, you would've. You would've gone just like you came."
Silence.
Her words crumbled against me, not making any sense, yet hitting me like a truck. "You are here because you want something, so badly, that it's hard to even breathe without it." Her words caught me off guard. I never wanted anyone to know that, let alone say it out loud. Even, I hadn't said those things to myself. I never wanted it to reach my ears.
She took a step towards me, closing even that inch. "That's why you can't leave. You want it to happen and you can't leave until it happens."
"You're bullshitting me?" I defended myself.
Nothing made sense. I was caught in a world I could not escape, which defied everything I knew.
END OF THE PART 1
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