That one day in a week was the only day I didn't have to go to a course or a bar job. The day I could completely spend according to my desires and intentions.

Sunday.

The sun made a special appearance in the sky, gilding and warming the brown colors outside. The leaves, although recently, were falling more and more from the trees, spinning drowsily and lazily around. The temperature was about 20 degrees Celsius, according to my phone. So, I was relieved to put the coat down, wearing only a gray sweater.

The traffic movement was small, almost negligible. Every few minutes, maybe one or two cars drove down the street. I was heading downtown at noon to stock up on groceries, which I did every week. I think people preferred to stay in the comfort of their homes, because the bus was not even as loaded as on other days. Even like other Sundays. The facts did not form a logical whole. I couldn't understand why they avoided going outside and catching the last breaths of summer warmth.

But when I got out of the vehicle at my destination, I began to understand why.

When I had to cross the main square to get to the street with several different kinds of shops, I saw more young people than ever, spreading the sounds of laughter and vitality. They had a different aura about them than I've ever seen in this place. They were colorful, rested and full of almost teenage energy. The golden trees, the brown shrubs that twined on the various shapes of the small, faded lawns and in this crowd, the silvery sculptures placed here and there came back to life in their own way.

And I don't know why, it was the crowd itself that made me uneasy.


"He's been watching you for the good few minutes!"

She was right. A muscular boy with long, blond hair unashamedly mirrored me with his eyes. I wasn't surprised at all. My carefully tailored outfit for the festival days attracted the attention of many people. The purple hue of the suit spread charm and grace, not missing any nearby person. It merged with me, creating unique whole.

A wide, satisfied smile appeared on my face. I looked at my companion with a raised eyebrow.

"If you put on that bright yellow dress I told you about, maybe someone would look at you like that." I looked at a typical denim jacket and wreaths of artificial, bizarre flowers.

The smile on her round face faded a little. But not for long.

"I'm fine with that. You reject all the handsome faces, and I comfort their broken hearts." She deliberately exaggerated with regret in her voice at the last words, placing her hands on the chest.

I laughed at the accuracy of the statement, and she laughed with me. A Mediterranean complexion contrasting with the strong, light blue shade of her eyes would appeal to anyone. In this respect, she stood out from the others. There weren't many European girls here.

"This blond is coming right here," I said, seeing a teenager heading towards us. "He's yours."


The anxiety persisted in me even when I left the store later with the bags filled to the top. The sun was no longer pleasant and warming, but it was striking, blinding and I felt it had me in its watchful eye. It made me feel bad. I wanted to go back to the shadows. To the apartment. But there was another maze of voices and laughter waiting for me before I got to the bus stop. A deeper breath was what finally pushed me forward.

And I was more than calm and careful while dodging any person who randomly appeared in my range. I've been paying all my attention to them. However, I took one moment to notice the bus already reaching the stop. And that was the one moment I especially shouldn't have wasted on anything.

Something at the height of my ribs suddenly ran into me, tearing up one of my bags. All of the items instantly landed on a brick pavement. Standing with my eyes wide open, I looked at the source of the disaster. And I couldn't believe such a hopeless fate.

"It's you!" Green, childish eyes looked at my face in shock. Then he pointed behind him, ignoring what he'd done. "Valentia's after me! Help!"

"It's not my problem," I said neutrally, taking my purse-bag off my back to fit all the products that fell right in front of me. "Now you'll help me pick it all up. The rest can wait."

When I handed him my already opened bag, I smoothly dropped all seven products into it, deep down satisfied with its ideal capacity for that moment. The boy with the dissatisfied and tense face patiently kept my things until the moment when I myself took them from him. I could see he was beginning to see the guilt in his behavior. And I didn't know, I really didn't know why, but I decided to cut his suffering short.

"Next time, just watch out, alright?" I raised my eyebrow, looking carefully into his eyes.

I got his obedient nod.

"Watch out for what?"

The female figure emerged from behind other people. The Latin complexion, the slightly wavy hair put in a loose, low, careless ponytail and the coffee-colored look reflected once again in my memory. The frown was contrasting her yesterday's blissful drug use state.

And then she spoke again, looking at me suspiciously.

"Have I seen you before?"

And I, being sure that it would be difficult for her to remember a random barmaid, whom she barely looked at with her stoned eyes yesterday, answered briefly:

"I doubt it."

After which I just left, mentally preparing for a much longer wait for the bus.

It seemed like all duties were behind me. I've done all the shopping, I've cleaned all the dust, and I've even done some of the Italian homework Mrs. Harrison gave us on Friday.

I was sitting on the small sofa of my apartment, with an invincible habit of shortening my nails with a nail file. I could feel the calm of Sunday, spilling its pink and orange on the gray, old floorboards, on the faded blue wallpaper and on my entire left face profile. The conditioner on my nails shined colorfully in the shades of the setting sun outside the window.

It seemed like the time of duty was over.

That's right, s e e m e d.

The screen of the silver phone next to me lit up with a notification from the electronic mailbox. Only after unlocking it could I see the content of the email, and when the sender's address appeared on the screen in a thicker font, I felt I would not be happy with what I was about to see.

And I was right. The e-mail from the manager herself contained extensive information about the party taking place that day in a location unknown to me. It was intended for students and was its goal was to raise the club's wages, and therefore our salaries. Mandatory attendance. Moreover, to spite everything, from that day until the very end of September, we were obliged to come there. Every damn day.

And maybe I'd say no. Maybe I'd start looking for a less demanding job already. But with more bills, I had less and less money left for my own use. And I had to live off something, and despite my dislike for the club's new idea, I couldn't give up.

Therefore, seeing that I had maybe an hour left until the appointed time, at the same time going to the closet, I searched my phone for the address given in the mail. And I stopped when I couldn't see any buildings on the map.

Just an empty patch of green surrounded by a forest.

I raised my eyebrow in consternation, after a moment sighing slightly.

It was going to be really interesting.

I didn't think I'd get there twenty minutes late.

I also didn't think the bus would be packed for the second part of my journey, not to mention with students whose conversations about our event were all over the vehicle. As I suspected, the bus line didn't go far enough and it took me a good fifteen minutes on foot to reach destination.

Both the youth herd and the navigation on my phone led me for a while along one of the side streets, until finally the route turned into a dirt road surrounded by trees. Then the sky took on a purple, nostalgic hue and barely broke through the branches above me. The forest creatures played their evening tune, the fever of the day slowly subsided, and a light, colder wind enveloped everyone around, engaging my black long-sleeved blouse into a rhythmic, spontaneous waving. The young laughter hit against the bark, echoing in the forest.

And only when the people in front of me dispersed in different directions, I could fully see where I was.

And it was a large area of short grass and impressively settled club equipment. From here, I could see neon lights flashing in different colors and moving beams of light. But there was something else. In all this, a different atmosphere was taking over.

Everywhere were placed tall glass tubes with oblong flames of fire, which warmed the coolness of the evening. People were not completely drunk, and with joy they swayed and sang joyful, summer tunes. The energy of the place grew more and more intense as I approached the center of the event. The bass made my lungs tremble rhythmically, and everyone around me seemed to hold tight to summertime, not letting it go from their hands. In addition, there was no heavy air of the club, but the open space of nature and freedom felt in every voice. In every wind blow.

And I may have been annoyed by the events of the last few hours, but I had to admit: I was impressed by whoever came up with that idea.

"Hey, Glass!" Britt greeted me when I found a makeshift, colorful bar.

I nodded in response, putting the bag under the counter. The movement around the bar was much smaller, because people did not crowd for alcohol, but rather occupied vending machines and stands with hot meals located near the bar. Indeed, money was pouring over the catering industry and was not going to stop anytime soon.

I felt like I'd be sitting here for a while, but the prospect of an increased paycheck was motivating enough to get over it. As long as the orders' frequency I've seen right there would've lasted a whole month as well, and not just one day. Because otherwise, my finances would be in question.

Britt ran off somewhere, called by someone in the crowd. I didn't investigate. With nothing more to do than serve a couple of beers to a bunch of skinny guys, I sat down in one of the bar stools on our side and pulled out my phone. With a sigh, I turned on the first-served app. It happened to be Sudoku.

"So, it was you I saw after all."

I raised my head to the Latina who sat down centrally in front of me on the other side of the bar. I got surrounded by the smell of weed and strong, pungent perfume, which probably did not serve as a cover for the first one. Her hair was loose and reached just below the line of her collarbones. One raised, thick eyebrow suggested that she was planning to play some game. Or win.

Not this time.

"I don't remember all the customers." I watched her expression wearily, shrugging.

I heard her snort.

"I may have been stoned as hell, but I remember Britt dumping our orders on you." She pointed a finger at me, propping her elbow up on the counter. She frowned skeptically. "I remember how quickly you cut the conversation with my friends. And I remember my friend asking you about Ben."

"You have a good memory."

"So that's how I know you know Ben. And today you met him again. He seems different lately, and I think it's because of you."

I raised my eyebrow, but let her get to the bottom of it.

"What did you tell him?"

And it really cost me a fortune not to roll my eyes. And to snigger. That question seemed to constantly come back to me like a boomerang.

"He ran into me while running from you, and he tore up my shopping bag. He picked up my things with me. I told him to be careful next time. That's it." And I started pouring beer for one of those skinny guys, seeing him on the horizon.

But from the corner of my eye, I saw the girl frown, completely caught off guard. She didn't move or speak for a long time. I think she was expecting a completely different scenario that would dispel her doubts. It was only when my attention got back to her that she decided to speak. And at the same time, Britt and Kendrick appeared behind her. The Latina didn't notice them coming.

"I'm... Hm. Let's just forget about the whole thing. Simply."

"About what?" asked Britt with surprise on her face, leaning over so that she could get a better look at Valentia.

And even if I was planning on speaking up, the girl did it before me. In spite of her answering to her friend, she stared at me as if she was indirectly trying to tell me what had happened. Because I felt like I didn't really know myself.

"I assumed without thinking that your coworker did something, and the truth turned out to be different. Sorry." The last word was directed at me, to which I shrugged indifferently.

She immediately got up from her seat and, without waiting for her friends, went somewhere to the right, breaking through the crowd. And when the other two had not yet connected all the dots, Britt decided to follow her friend. Her beanie, lit by alternating colors of the rainbow neon lights, also disappeared from my eyesight after a second, and then there was only her voice left, repeatedly screaming her friend's name.

And the only one left, which was Kendrick, looked at the crowd for a moment, and then his head turned in my direction. In these lights and the setting twilight, a suspicious, almost stern look seemed like made of liquid gold. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt, but the distinctive orange accent was to be found on his larger sport watch. It made a brief thud noise as its owner, carefully and without hurry, placed his forearm on the counter.

"Benjamin explained me everything."

Even though I didn't show it, I was surprised by the contradiction of his words to his facial expression. I figured he hadn't put an end to it yet. His gaze was sharp, but at the same time calm. An unusual concentration in his eyes seemed to drill holes in my glasses, as if he wanted to pierce through my thoughts. But my neutral, unemotional state of mind didn't make it easy for him.

And I was right, he didn't stop there.

"But I still don't trust people like you."

And then I got a little curious.

"Like me?" I raised my eyebrow, refraining from smiling cynically.

He turned his head, looking at the crowd of young people with never ending energy for a continuous dance. The music was bouncy, tropical, joyful and easy to pick up by everyone. Colorful lights wrapped everyone in its joyful movement, carrying the young spirit from person to person. The fire in the tubes seemed brighter and more saturated by the darkening sky, and the dynamic flames of the nearest one reflected in Kendrick's eyes. With a rather ambiguous face and eyes focused on nothing in particular, he replied:

"Distant, isolated, blurry..." He looked at me again, but this time without any expression. "Holding back from anything, so that they never reveal what they truly think."

I couldn't even hide my surprise. I frowned, seeing brown-haired guy using my inattention to observe me. Every second was more and more treacherous. Fortunately, a person appearing nearby woke me up from this feeling, drawing my attention away. Only then did I come up with an answer.

"No one's telling you to trust me."

Then he took his hand off the bar.

"I know."

And he started to walk away.

I just sniggered, annoyed, seeing him go where his friends had gone before. And I guess I could take that as the end of all the teasing, because whatever was supposed to be explained, was explained. Benjamin explained what he had unleashed himself. I felt I could rest for a while.

But it wasn't until the guy moved away from the counter that I noticed my hands tightening and loosening. I stopped right away.

Damn Benjamin.

"Hey, barmaid!" A tall, muscular, red-haired man with a cheeky smile waved a sweaty, big hand in front of me. "Get me two glasses of J&B."

Oh, yeah. Worst kind of customer? Wasted Casanova.

Without paying much attention to him, I turned around with the intention of looking for fresh glasses. I really tried to put up with that kind of people. I spent two months struggling with the objectifying and the pushy teenagers. The biggest factor in these situations was alcohol, which was proven whenever a day after the incidents happened the same people came back with an apology in a state of complete sobriety, or still hangover. Or they didn't show up at all. It's happened to all of us. Regardless of appearance or personality. You could almost get used to it.

Almost.

Suddenly, a man pulled my sleeve.

"What the hell are you doing?"

With the force of the pull, my hip hit the counter hard, and the sleeve of my T-shirt was torn off in half. He was holding me by the material around my wrist with his hideous paw. I could smell alcohol and sweat from a mile away. Stronger than a smell of a typical clubman. The red-haired man was barely on his feet, leaning against the chair next to him. With murder in my eyes, I looked at his face, disgusted with every inch of it.

Correction. Worst customer type:

Wasted, a g g r e s s i v e Casanova.

"Me?" I asked, unable to stop the dull-sounding chill in my voice.

Then, with the hand he was holding, I quickly twisted his wrist at such an angle that the subsequent impact on the countertop caused him a lot of pain. His face got taken over by a grimace, as he was cursing under his breath. He tried to take his hand, but I wouldn't let him, pushing it down even harder.

"I'm just showing how those who think the world belongs to them end up. Including real people."

And then I let him go.

A man with a clear suffering on his face was leaning against the bar, but after that he grabbed his wrist, trying to keep a straight pose. And security took a little longer to respond to my call than right on time, but they finally took him out of my sight. With my eyes following him, I took a deep breath. It was over. You couldn't get used to it. Especially since this was the first client who tore my clothes and to this extent violated my personal space. I looked at my shirt in annoyance. Another expense covered by me.

After a moment, I looked up and just a few meters away, I saw Kendrick. After our conversation, I didn't think he'd gone too far, because he was standing next to one of the other bar stools with his phone in his hand. But he was not looking at the screen. With brows narrowed in thought, he was watching the red-haired assaulter disappear behind the corner. And then he looked at me. And that's when I knew he'd seen the whole thing.

He saw a piece of my invisible pane of ice called 'appearances' crumble.