Chapter 24

5 years later

"Elxa, my man, I'm proud of you!" My inmate buddy, tagged number 307, greeted me with his usual slap on the back, and I thank the gods silently that I hadn't been drinking during his greeting. He takes the seat beside me without invitation, and begins making quick work of the messy breakfast of mashed potatoes, chicken doused in a weird gravy along with a side of soggy vegetable.

Prison food has never been very palatable, but fairly acceptable.

"Proud?" I asked in reply singularly, setting down my plastic fork and spoon. Metal utensils were obviously disallowed in such a correctional facility.

"Yeah, you're gettin' free!" He replied happily, and I wonder briefly why he was the one so happy when I was the one regaining my freedom instead. "Got anyone waitin' for you later at the other side of the Wall?"

The 'Wall' was affectionately named by the inmates, for it seemed nicer to call it a wall rather than a concrete barrier lined with electric fences, ready to deliver high-charged electric shocks designed for paralyzing potential prison break attempts.

I considered his question.

"Not that I know of." I replied honestly, and he pauses in his meal for a short while, taking a quick look at me.

"What about your little bro? Doesn't he always visit you or something?" He asked blurrily, and I smile absently at my unfinished meal. I wasn't sure why I came to breakfast at all. After breakfast, I was packing my things, ready to be set out into the world a free man again. I could stop by any restaurant on the way home –assuming I still had a home to go to.

"Jon?" I asked, seriously considering the question posed to me now, for I hadn't given it thought before today. "You're living in the past, Will. Jon hasn't visited me in three years. He might not even know I'm being released today."

"Really?" He asks in surprise. It is easily to understand how Will has forgotten such a minor thing –this man was refreshingly happy and jovial to be in prison.

Made my prison buddy after my first year, Will had revealed to have been thrown in when he pissed off the wrong rich man and was made to take the rap for a minor case of stealing for his little brother. He never seemed to regret his actions, and his acceptance for his situation made him a happy person who found endless things to do with his life, finding accomplishment even in the simplest of things. "Naw, he probably's primin' himself up to see you again. No little bro would ever wanna miss a time to see his big brother, especially after in prison."

I gave a light snort. "I hope."

"No hot babe, hmm?" Will questioned suggestively, earning low whistles from the other inmates around the table. Talk of hot babes always fired them up, though I understood it was their way of connecting with each other.

"No hot babe." I replied sullenly. Five years, and there had been no contact of a particular 'hot babe', even though I tightly kept hope. I still could not forget our parting. If it was a lie, then it was a very good lie, for she had me fooled entirely. But if she was lying, then I was at least glad that she lied, for my trial and sentence had been less painful to bear at the thought of her waiting for me.

She hadn't visited once.

"You kno', I heard you were some big-wig in the con world and got caught coz of some gurl. She not meetin' you?" Will pursued, leaning in further as if trying to share a secret.

I rested my utensils, smiling faintly.

"If she were, then this would truly be my happiest day." I allowed, and as I stood up, the inmates around my table whistled and catcalled in encouragement. We never really talked, but we always encouraged each other when it came to rebuilding lives after being released.

Farewells were easier to say when there were less of them to say. I walked off wishing them well for the rest of their sentence, and walked towards the door, greeting the security guard with a nod. He gave me a smile –knowing that it was the day of my release –and wished me well. The walk back to my cell was spent with numerous acquaintances wishing me well, professing the well-wishes and hopes that they would never have to see me back there.

And then I reached my cell. The next few hours, I cleared my cell clean, and then made sure I was presentable. Shaving the stubble I'd been keeping for the past 5 years, trimming my hair and scrubbing myself off the dirt; I felt like a new man again. A man ready to walk back out to the world filled with blue skies, warm sea breezes... and opportunities.

Five years was enough; I wagered. The 'good conduct' early release had been a preamble set before I even stepped foot into the correctional facility, though the drama and act of being put through 'interview' for it had been a tedious act. Still, my planning had made things work, and my fifteen year sentence was cut.

I packed my things, and made towards the main administrative building, where I was wished for a smooth life ahead again. Getting my ID and wallet back into possession; it felt as if I had my identity returned after 5 years of loss. Another limb of me returned; even.

Then finally, the gates opened.

Outside, the sky shone blue, not a single cloud in sight. There was no hustle and bustle –the correctional facility was deserted far away from the city –and the only sounds were the soft, distant buzz of electric fences working behind me.

I took in a deep breath of the fresh, free air –not surprised that it didn't feel much different from the air inside. People expected the air of freedom to smell better, but in all rationalities, they were the same air.

There was no one in sight.

Not surprised, and unwilling to let the moment spoil my carefully schooled emotions, I set a straight back, straightened my buttoned down black shirt, rolled up my sleeves to escape heat on my forearms, and walked towards the city that loomed on the horizon.

My mind was a blank as I walked further and further away from my 'home' for 5 years. I wasn't emotional –I had planned everything too well to feel any emotions at being free. Yes, after 5 years of being watched, it felt nice to walk off without a surveillance camera trained on me. Yes, after 5 years of carefully controlled routines and work to do, it felt good to do something of my own free will.

Yes, it felt wonderful to have my freedom back.

But it didn't change the fact that this freedom I had back; it had all been planned. I would have definitely felt greater joy, elation an excitement had I not known when I would be rewarded for my 'good conduct'.

Still, I was generally in a positive mood, and I would not let worries bring me down –worries like how Jon was doing, where he was, what he was doing. Worries like the lack of contact from Kaylen, the lack of useful information from my contacts outside, the lack of contact from the only conman I ever let myself trust to take care of my younger brother. I had a million worries, but I didn't dare to dwell on them as I set one foot strongly in front of the other, determined to get home before I started to let those worries dumbfound me.

A sleek Lamborghini appeared in view far in the horizon from the city, and I continued my slow approach as it continued its speed, racing towards the facility. Small curiosity brimmed within me as the car approached closer, but I kept questions aside as I walked. The car drove past without much of a sound.

And still I walked.

I hadn't taken ten steps more, before a sound save the silence and crunch of gravel beneath me sounded.

"Elxa, where do you think you're walking to?"

I stopped. It couldn't be...

"You can't be thinking of walking all the way home, do you? What makes you think you still have a home there?" The faintly amused, emotional voice continued behind me, and I spun around sharply on my heels.

A man and woman stood beside the parked Lamborghini, and it took a long moment for me to understand that the man dressed in a crisp, stylish, clean suit was my little brother. Five years had done him service, as he had shaken off the last bit of puberty from his face and height, earning himself a suave, savvy businessman-look. The woman, dressed in a beautiful long frilly yellow sundress, stood with model-like grace, eyes of blue glinting against the sunlight as she looked on with an uncertain expression.

"Jon, you're here...?" My soft comment turned into a question, as I stood rooted. "I haven't heard from you in 3 years, how do you know I was released today?"

He grinned, and stepped towards me, closing the distance between us since I wasn't walking towards him. "You know, I have a brother in the con world. Information like this is really easy to buy if you know who to buy it from."

Up close, I took the chance to appraise him, as he did me. Whatever he saw; he approved for he grinned even brighter. "I kind of expected you to develop some fats or gain a tummy in there. Guess it just is in the Dal blood to keep lean and mean."

I didn't give a reply, still surveying every inch of him. There weren't any signs of any scars anywhere, and no obvious injuries that I should know of. All in all, Jon looked like a stellar piece of a man, and it took quite some time for my mind to wrap around that fact, as I stared.

"Elxa?" He asked, waving a hand before my eyes. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I replied automatically. "Are you okay?"

He drew back, a little confused. "Me? Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen you in 3 years. You didn't visit." There was no hint of accusation in that voice, and I hoped Jon got the message that I didn't blame him for not wanting to visit his embarrassing brother locked up in jail.

"Well, I was 21, and finally free from Hayden. You know –he really is a smothering father. I started to strike out on my own –with a little of your money, I will tell you upfront. I made my own fashion label. Right now, I'm now the proud boss of a renowned internationally-successful fashion label. Prison must have dulled your senses, but right now, Dal Fashion is the thing." Jon explained proudly, and immediately, I tried my best to not bristle with pride.

"Hence the suit, I see." I observed neutrally, but Jon knew enough to read the pride from my eyes. "It would be fine to assume that you are enjoying your life without any interference?"

"From your world? Nope. Hayden's a flustered mother hen when it comes to taking care of me in that sense. I don't remember adopting him to be my father; but he's pretty much taken up the role." Jon replied easily, then took my hand in his, leading me towards where his car and the woman stood, still looking uncomfortable.

"I want you to meet my girlfriend-for-2-years. Elxa, meet Arielle. Arielle, meet my brother Elxa."

On cue, she extended a friendly hand, breaking a friendly smile on her face. By pure instincts, I took the hand and pressed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure." She replied sweetly, delicately withdrawing her hand. "Jon's told me many things about you, especially how you risked many things for him, and how you took care of him even though he thought he hated you."

"Arielle," Jon put in, face flushing up, "that isn't exactly something we like to talk about. It was all a misunderstanding, alright?"

The strike of childishness from my younger brother elicits surprising laughter from me. Surprising; for neither Jon nor I had expected it bubbling.

"Misunderstanding isn't exactly a word for what we went through, Jon. I'd say 'disaster' if I were you." I added, but Jon only shuddered obviously.

"God, you sound like Jeremy now."

"I accept such compliments, to be paired with someone his caliber such as his." I replied graciously, and Jon's face grew serious.

"You're going to go back into the industry?"

"It's the only industry I can be in. I was born in it; it is my existence." I replied honestly, and five years have matured Jon in ways I would never know, for he nodded understandingly.

"I understand. That's why I moved out and kept everything of your work back in the house. I've been paying the bills for you; so things should work alright for you. Come, let's get out of this annoying heat." Jon gestured, and I kept silent about his sleek, flashy Lamborghini, climbing into the extremely cramp backseat, settling myself in without protest as Jon turned up the A/C.

We started the journey back to the city, in comfortable silence.

"Elxa." Jon's voice in the silence came so sharply that I snapped my eyes at meet his in the rearview mirror. His face was left serious and tensed. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." I replied quickly –a little too quickly.

"Has prison gotten to you? Where's the man in power I knew?"

"Give me time; I will build it all back up."

Another long drive of silence followed whereby I watched as Jon's girlfriend Arielle tap busily on her phone.

"You need someone."

"Who?"

"You know who I'm talking about. You're thinking about her." Jon accused, and it would be nice if I had protested quickly in reply saying that I hadn't.

But I didn't want to lie to Jon, and I didn't want to lie to myself. I had been thinking about her after seeing Arielle, and being reminded by the blue eyes that shone bright and deep. She had promised to be waiting, had told me with certainty that she would be there when I was released. I didn't want to ask where she was, but at the same time I was so desperate to know where she had gone, what she had done. I wanted to know everything, but yet I didn't want to know anything at all.

That was the true power she held over me –the power to make me lose my thoughts and my control over my surroundings.

"In all honesty, we haven't been keeping much contact either. She drops by from time to time, and she loves to beg for discounts to shop at my stalls just for the fun of it. But she hasn't come in for quite some time. I'm not even sure if she's still in Miami." Jon replied honestly, picking up the conversation as if I had never kept silent.

"Are you talking about Kaylen, dear? Why, I just saw her on the street just yesterday!" Arielle put in before I could begin to worry, and suddenly everything seemed clear.

"We're here." Jon parked the car expertly before the entrance, but didn't turn the engines off. Instead, he lobbed a bunch of keys over to me, trusting my instincts to catch them. "Go up yourself. She could be waiting."

Even though he was my little brother, and I had so many more questions to ask him, I got out of the car and ran up the steps without a look back.

Each step brought me closer and closer to the idea of her, closer to the chamber of my heart that I had refused to unlock ever since I stepped into the correctional facility. I hadn't wanted to think of her, hadn't wanted to miss her, for fear of losing my head. But right now, it seemed as if none of that tight control had mattered, as I took the stairs two by two, the keys tightly imprinted on my palm as I fisted my hands with strength. Nostalgia hit me, and I held on to the desperate hope to see her standing in the corridor, waiting for me like how she had done for Hayden.

I turned up the last stairwell, hope finally bursting forth as I charged up the stairs. Just a little more...

There was no one.

The heart that had been soaring and flying crash landed, and I stood there –barely panting –staring at the empty corridor. I could almost remember it as if it were yesterday that I had her standing there, barely holding back tears, waiting for her father to scale the last steps.

But she wasn't waiting for me to scale the last steps.

I don't understand why I have been holding on to such strong hope. I don't understand why I had been telling myself that she would be there, waiting. I don't understand what is wrong with me, insisting that she would be there.

Of course she wouldn't. She was a Seyfried. Running and lying was all part of the package of being a con, much less being in the Seyfried family. There wasn't any doubt that Hayden had taught her daughter the art of running away that the Seyfried family had been so famous for.

She had done it. She had run away –from me.

I don't know how long I stood dumbly at the top of the stairs, but eventually I shuffled heavy feet to the door. Numbly, I jammed the keys into the lock... before I realized the door wasn't locked.

I turned the knob and the door swung open. There was no one in sight.

Cautiously, I stepped in. There could have been anyone who had come breaking the lock, but only conmen who knew who lived here once would leave the door unlocked after departure. Either they were setting up to send a message, or setting up to kill me. Carefully sweeping my gaze over the familiar rooms, I inched further into the house, instincts flaring. But there was no one waiting to kill me; no one pointing guns at me.

But there was a message.

A water bottle sat on the island in the kitchen. The sides of it were still dripping with condensed water, and upon touch, it was still slightly cold. Whoever who had been here had left not long ago. Beside it was a single blue rose, and a note written in a cursive, familiar handwriting.

To the Common Man:

I'm still waiting. Be at The Circle tomorrow, 6pm.

-Socially Awkward

I laughed.