Chapter 6: Visions
1291 Words
“I think we’ve got a pretty chill mission this time,” said Rica as they sat next to each other on the couch, sharing a tub of ice cream, and watching the nth episode of some mystery crime series they found on Netflix.
They were both in their pajamas, as it was a weekend, and their faces were unrecognizable with the animal-patterned facial masks occupying their entire faces. Rica’s hair was additionally curled around heatless curlers.
“Right?”
“Mhmm.” Anna unintelligibly hums in agreement, her mouth full of ice cream, her eyes glued to the screen. “That murderer’s quite intelligent,” she comments, her attention focused on the show.
“As long as he hides the body correctly, he could be hired as part of the Ministry’s clean-up department.” Her friend beside her agrees, her attention smoothly shifting from one topic to another. “Ah! By the way, do you know Mika, my partner?”
“Who?”
“Mika, my partner in the thesis.”
“Ah. What about her?”
Their eyes remained on the TV as they conversed, easily multitasking.
“She’s fine, at first. But when we got to the hypothesis—” Anna’s spoonful of ice cream was suspended in the air, “She was coming up with outcomes that were completely different from the solution we wanted to promote! I don’t know how she does it, but she keeps coming up with unreasonable hypotheses.” Rica shook her head, belatedly noticing her friend freezing beside her. “What?”
“The hypothesis…? Why are you two at the hypothesis already?” She asks slowly, the spoonful finally entering her mouth.
Rica frowns, still baffled. “What do you mean? We’re even lagging behind, actually, because we’ve been disagreeing. Everyone else already has their first chapters approved.”
Anna wanted to grimace.
They hadn’t even gotten their proposed topics approved because they couldn’t agree on which topics to propose.
They were extremely behind. But she can’t admit that to anyone, can she? Not even to Rica. So instead, she chewed slowly and nodded even slower. “I see,” she mumbles. “I hope you can knock some sense into Tyra.”
Rica deadpans. “Mika.”
“Mika,” she innocently echoed.
“You know, I just remembered,” Rica blurts out, suddenly shifting in her seat to turn to her. “You kept forgetting my name too until we were fifteen!” Her gaze was accusatory, but there was a ghost of a smile. Though barely visible because of the mask.
“My name was Frederica, but you kept calling me Felisia, or whatever!” Rica said, laughing, and Anna wanted to laugh, too, but a flash of a scene in her mind caught her off-guard. Her smile froze as a shooting pain shook her entire brain.
The scenario was vaguely familiar to her, and a familiar voice called out to her—giddily, “Anna, let’s play!”
There was no face that came with the echoing voice. Only a reply from someone. Someone that sounds very much like her, but younger and… livelier.
“Coming, Felisia!”
“Anna? Anna? Hey, girl, you good?” She returned with Rica violently shrugging her shoulders. She blinks, rapidly, as fast as her heartbeat, staring at Rica. Spacing out. She was spacing out. “What happened?”
She wanted to ask the same thing.
What was that? Who was that girl? Those girls? Questions flooded her mind so much that she remained quiet for the next few hours. Her roommate would glance at her from time to time but was ultimately quiet too. It felt like a dream. But it's a very vivid dream, so much so that it’s so close to being a memory.
But she’d never met a Felisia. Was it one of the agents-in-training she trained with as a kid? No. She only had one person even coming close to that name, and it was Frederica.
Who is it then, if not from the Ministry?
Eventually, Anna decides to let it go. It must be a one-time thing. She had more things on her plate than worry about a random vision. For one, her bloody thesis.
After finishing the self-care day with Rica, she asked to meet up with Max the next day. He refused at first, saying he was busy, but she insisted and succeeded in peer pressuring him by saying they were very delayed. Which they were. And she wouldn’t let him delay them any longer.
The next day, Anna went out on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the same time Rica left to meet her own partner. They agreed to meet at a coffee shop just two blocks down from their apartment building, which was efficient for her. And because the place was near, Anna arrived ten minutes early.
She went into the cafe, shoulders squared in pride of having arrived early until she scanned the people inside and immediately spots a tall, hooded man with messy hair. She momentarily pauses, feeling another wave of recognition taunt her nerves. She scans him again. She approaches, and he immediately looks up to meet her eyes. His frame under a hoodie was attractive, but more than that… vaguely familiar.
But it must be those random visions again, so she dismisses it on a whim and occupies the seat in front of him. As she sat, she inhaled the redolence of coffee and sighed at the aroma.
“And here I thought I was early,” she greets, smirking to herself.
Max chuckles and takes out his laptop. “Sorry, I have a thing for punctuality.”
“That’s a good habit to have.” She points out, her eyes busily darting everywhere but his eyes. She was not bothered by his intense stare. Just that he looks a little too… ordinary. It’s all so plain that he looks like he’s faking it. Or she’s just overthinking.
“Thanks.”
The conversation was cut when the waiter arrived to take their order. She asks for a cappuccino and he, a black coffee with two shots of espresso. Rough. After the waiter leaves, an awkward silence hangs in the air. Her eyes were on his idle fingers on the keyboard. His eyes were on her—shamelessly staring.
She feels her pride being challenged, so she looks up to meet his gaze. Fiery raven orbs meet tamed brown ones. Max eventually submits and avoids her eye contact with a blink.
Is this awkwardness I’m sensing? or tension? Or uneasiness? Which is it?
Hiding her smile, she asks, “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Anna watched his expression thoroughly. At first glance, he looks every part like an unbothered introvert with no desire to socialize. He looked easy to read. But up close, he is very unreadable. What an elaborate farce.
This leads her to think he’s not who he claims to be, really.
Despite her suspicions, she continues when he nods. “What’s your favorite social issue to argue about, Max?” She asks a controversial question, and he looks taken aback.
What a pleasure.
“Excuse me?”
She duly repeats her question.
He frowns, perplexed by the sudden question. He must be expecting something connected to their thesis. Maybe she’ll ask those later.
For now, though…
“Well… equality and discrimination have already gone a long way. They ought to be addressed soon if we want a peaceful world with balance.”
Balance, he said.
That’s another word she hears often.
Anna leans back. There’s more to him than meets the eye.
Max.
She ought to keep him close. Very close.
- Writer
