"Hey, girl, what happened?" The hand of the same red-haired woman who usually guarded the club landed on my shoulder.

I finally looked at her briefly, into her distracted, dark green eyes waiting for an answer. I practically forgot my assaulter's face. I didn't feel threatened. But for a long moment, I couldn't form a meaningful sentence in my head.


"I finally found you."

I sighed, looking ahead and not even trying to turn my head. Of course, he found me. Vian did not hide the fact that for half the evening he was going to approach me and finally talk to me. Despite my reluctance to have anything to do with this man, I was flattered by his inept attempts.

"Amazing. How did you do that?" I looked at him from the corner of my eye, checking out his party attire without restraint, stopping for a moment at the bright green eyes and raven black, gelled back hair. Then I stared into nothingness again.

The cool, maroon wall I was leaning against carried the powerful bass of my house's speakers. The buzzing alcohol in my head made the surrounding more vibrant and energetic. People were crowding every corner of every room. The screams, the music, and the smell of alcohol all fought for my weakened attention. Now a boy standing a little closer to me than he should has joined the fray.

"You can't be unnoticed, beautiful."

I smiled without sincere emotion.

"Unlike you." I pushed myself off the wall, fixing my dress and making sure the drink in my hand didn't spill on the pearl-colored carpet of the hallway. I was going to leave, but the guy wouldn't let me.

"Give me a chance." He grabbed my hips, clumsily pulling my body towards his. I could smell bad perfume and cheap beer.

I put my hand on his chest, a little irritated. I raised my eyebrow at him, perfectly seeing the barely raised eyelids. He looked at me, but at the same time his thoughts were far away, beyond the reach of events in the present.

"I rejected you more than once. Don't you learn from your mistakes, Vi?" This time I put the force into pushing myself away from the athletic torso. In vain. I frowned confused and annoyed. "Can you back off?"

And when he slowly moved his thick hand to the line of my buttocks, I completely lost the desire for any euphemisms. I've been putting up with Vian all this time. But by the time I felt the sting of panic creep into my lungs, blocking my breath and speeding up my heart rate, my tolerance for his person had just run out.

"Take this hand off before you really regret it." My voice weakened involuntarily. I was losing my confidence. I hated that feeling.

And when he shamelessly squeezed my body in his hands, I could not stand it, and the state of the carpet under my heels ceased to matter.

I poured the entirety of my drink, which I still had in my other hand, over his head.

I really thought that was enough. However, with the screaming caused by the alcohol creeping into his eyes, the pressure on my hips only intensified. And after that, the guy just pinned me more painfully to the wall.

"Get off me, you idiot!" I screamed in a flow of anger and pain. The glass had already fallen somewhere on the carpet, and I tried to take the big guy's body off of mine with both of my hands.

"Hey! Are you insane?!"

And then a shatter noise.

Vian collapsed in front of me, his arms covering himself with the last of his strength. He was making inhuman groans, drawing with it everyone's attention. Pieces of my glass were scattered around his body, and dark, thick blood began to flow from between the fingers of the hand he was holding on to the top of his face.

I felt nauseous.

I didn't see who threw the last blow. I didn't see people leaving my house en masse. I didn't see people calling the police, or squeezing my motionless body with stiff, tiny hands for maybe a minute.

All I could focus on was the sight of crimson blood on the pearl carpet and a rage boiling in my body greater than ever.

The music stopped.


The curiosity in the vice-manager's voice seemed sincere, but I was aware that she was not one of the fools. She knew better than anyone what could have happened, because I don't think she'd been in the business since yesterday.

"Worse customer," I replied evasively, to which I received a nod of understanding. "Can I get something to wear?"

And I was a little bit annoyed by the woman's piercing gaze. I didn't really enjoy parading around the rest of the night with a big hole in my arm.

"Of course, Glass." She smiled gently, but stood still, and I continued to try to get into her train of thoughts. "But personally, I'd rather you go home. Did you get here by yourself?"

And I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

"With all due respect, I don't need an escort. It's fine."

And it really was. Maybe my hip was throbbing a little bit, but it wasn't something that would force me to go back to my apartment immediately. But the woman with her hands on her chest shook her head, and I didn't take that as a good omen.

"I say this not only because I'm worried, but also because I care about the employees," she said with concern. "We have a lot of bartenders on the spot. Your absence will not make it difficult for others. I'd rather you be strong tomorrow than tortured today."

But that wasn't the case.

"I need to stay here," I said, not raising my voice, but strengthening my resolve.

And the redhead woman stood in silence for a moment, looking at me with a frown, which barely kept me from looking away. I put on as neutral a face as I could. But annoyance and a strange emotional disturbance did not want to come out of me from the very situation with the client, which, reinforced at the moment, made the task difficult for me.

Then the woman got to the bottom of it.

"It's not about your capabilities, is it?"

I didn't answer.

"I won't charge you for one early return, at my request, if that's what you're worried about. I never do."

I frowned slightly, surprised for a decent moment by her words. And I guess in my eyes it was clear and visible, because the woman smiled amused, asking again: "So, you came with someone who could drive you home?"

And that's when I woke up from my mental fog.

"I got here by bus." I grabbed the bag from under the counter, and when I straightened up, I was about to say goodbye and leave, but the woman was already heading to Britt, who had just arrived at the bar.

Wonderful.

At first, I couldn't hear what they were talking about, but as they approached my side of the bar, I could hear and see more details, including Britt's surprised face at my sight. The girl and the woman stood at a similar distance as Kendrick stood on the other side of the bar. He, on the other hand, looked at the course of the conversation, which at that time I already heard very well.

"Of course, no problem!" replied vivaciously brown-haired girl, sending me, goodness gracious, a pity smile. "Will you walk her out, Kendrick?"

And when the boy grabbed a nearby lying coat and nodded to them affirmatively, I deciphered all the unknowns of the situation. I got an escort. The delighted girl leaned over the counter and quickly kissed the boy on the cheek, but he took this reflex differently than you might expect from him.

With a slight frown, he looked at Britt for a long second, then said goodbye to both her and the vice-manager, going in my direction.

The other one, with a smile on her face, nodded at me, which I reciprocated. Except for the smile. Britt, on the other hand, covered her face with her lush curls, correcting the beanie and muttering something under her nose, at which the woman next to her laughed and patted her on the shoulder.

"You coming?" Walking past me with his coat thrown over his forearm, he looked at me without emotion.

I sighed with reluctance.

Crossing the last parts of the club settled on an empty field, I felt the chill of the late evening and until that moment I did not know I needed it. When one edge of the sky was still a cool violet color, on the completely opposite side was a deep blue canvas for individual stars. Everything, however, was covered by the crowns of trees, as we entered a narrower, almost forest path.

To be honest, my nerves kind of gave in to the cold air, and I've never been a fan of the nature. With each passing meter away from the sound of the party, annoyance seemed to take a back seat. And maybe I would have been able to ignore the guy walking next to me if it wasn't for the way he did it. Although he was neither too ahead of me nor left behind. He walked right along with me.

So, what was it that caught my attention?

He was walking a good 6 feet to the left. If not more.

I would have thought I was almost invisible to him if it weren't for the brief, skeptical glances he was throwing me from the corner of his eye. And of course, I saw them. They weren't discreet at all. Rather, they beamed with energy under the title: "I really do not know what to expect from you, and I do not even want to know." I think that was the point. Because I didn't have to turn my head in his direction to get that message.

However, after less than a minute, this constantly sent message provoked a reaction that I would never have expected from myself.

He made me chuckle with a clean, honest laugh.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"What?" he asked surprised, turning his head a bit in my direction. "I told you. I don't trust you."

"That distrust will get you walking into the tree." I looked doubtfully at the small space between him and the forest line.

He looked where I was, and then he crossed his eyes with mine. In the play of shadows cast by the branches of tall trees and the light of the incomplete moon, the beer color of his eyes had once turbid, once pure shade. His gaze was enigmatic. Neutral.

And then he suddenly changed the subject.

"How often do you have situations like these in the club?"

I knew what he meant. I looked at one of the lighter path curves in front of us, fixing my purse-backpack handles. There was no trace of my previous smile in sight. The indifferent expression returned to its place. So did the automatic coolness of my voice. I felt my newly relaxed muscles tense up again.

"They happen."

And there was a momentary silence that allowed me to falsely assume that the moment of uncertainty was over. But Kendrick spoke again. And it would be better if he stayed quiet.

"You're doing it again."

I raised that eyebrow he couldn't see because I was still looking ahead.

"What am I doing?"

And then he put my sense of security to the test yet again.

"You squeeze your hands every now and then."

I did not answer, involuntarily ceasing the action I had been reminded of. We walked in silence for the next few minutes. The ground rustled under our feet, some teenagers almost hit us, with dizzying speed passing by our peaceful walk, and nocturnal animals carried the echo of their sounds everywhere. You could still hear the club music, but quite muffled by the density of plants and trees.

I felt touched by that one comment. And not in the sense of resentment. In the sense of intimacy. I felt like I'd inadvertently exposed myself. I made one trivial mistake that I've managed to avoid for the last few months. I was wondering what I did differently this time. Why the things I was doing got exposed at that very moment? How much did that say about me? Which facts it cast doubt on, forcing them to be thought through more carefully?

But despite my curiosity, I couldn't get an answer without exposing myself to another mistake at the same time.

We came out of the forest and I was relieved to see that there was no bus on the horizon, so there was a good chance that I would reach the stop in time. I also noticed how many cars were parked along the dimly lit street and even on fairly leveled, dirt spaces behind the sidewalks on both sides. A lot.

When we reached the pedestrian crossing marked only by the faded lines on the roadway, Kendrick stopped two steps behind me. I'm guessing his car, which I saw on one of the courses when Benjamin tried to get away from me, was on this side of the road. Unlike my bus stop.

"Thanks for the company," I spoke with my back facing him, but turning my head to the side and giving him one last look from behind my shoulder.

"I'm going home now anyway," he replied, looking me in the eye as if to avoid my thanks and the fact that he had done anything for me. Even if he actually planned it in the first place. It seemed like the less he had to do with me, the better for him.

"Mhm," I just muttered, then turned to the road and slowly walked away, crossing the street and going to the other side of it.

It was only after a few seconds of silence that I heard him heading in his own direction.