Bad Boy's Obsession

1.

Night had come around again too soon, as I padded down the sidewalk with anticipation. Moon shone above me, the light illuminating the dark, gloomy street. Passing by the tall, dirty streetlights that were just for the display, and never seemed to work, I came across several stray dogs, and cats and mouse, hungry, and in search of food. I was no better than them. But I was not in search of food. I was in search of a job. A job, so that I can pay off my student loans.

The cobblestones were wet with the day's rain and made slippery by the cold temperature. The puddles filled with dirty water, as I hopped up and down the street to save my dress from getting splashed on. The street was quiet, one carriage wide with slim pavements at the edge, lined up with crocked houses that were build without gaps, shabby conditions, and drenched. I no longer noticed the stench, or the cold air that mingled with it. The nights in Paris were always cold. And I was used to it. At times like thises, I missed the many fine greens of the trees and the grasses, I longed for the multitude of vibrant hues from the nearby city parks, the wide sky, and even the noises of passing cars.

It felt I lived a dream before. But this was my reality. An actual reality. I longed to see outside of this whole ran down neighborhood.

Even though I'm walking it feels more like the sidewalk is a conveyor belt, like I'm a cow in the slaughter house heading towards the captive bolt. There's that feeling in my stomach, a mixture of nausea and exhaustion. My head has begun to buzz even before I have arrived at work. The stress is eating me out. It is killing me, day by day, it feels it won't be long before people will be mourning on my funeral.

I see the old building, decorated with cheap lights bought from a thrift store, I mentally, scoff at the name. "cafe love." Like what even? Love? That name sounded so bitter on my tongue. It brought back so many memories that I never wanted to relive. They were far deep locked inside me. Those beautiful memories that always brought pain and tears.

As I walked through the sturdy door I know none if it, not a damn thing that will go unfold, and just wished for the night to move on without any single part of me getting tired, than I already was.

"You're on time I see." Sean, hissed. My boss. In his late thirties, with a protruding belly, and ragged, sweaty clothes. A constant stench of cheap alcohol surrounded him, by the way he drowned in it. I wondered how he was able to run the cafe when he just bought alcohol and girls with the money cafe made. He was a complete asshole, with no shame and eyes for the young asses.

I ignored whatever he said, as I took off my trench coat and put it on the hook before getting to work.

I was a dishwasher here. Doing my best to stay low key and still earn money. I needed it. If not for the threat on my precious family, I would have never thought of working somewhere like here.

Everything was second hand, even the utensils. I hated it all. At this very, point, I hated it all. Why? I always wanted to know one thing. Why? Why it had to be me?

I was working two jobs, one as an assistant of a estate agent, and then at night as a dishwasher. I needed to save money, to support myself.

Lost in my thoughts, I put in the last glass on the shelf, before wiping it clean.

"Vally? You have a call." Sandie yelled from the counter. She was a girl in her early twenties, just like me struggling.

I wiped my hands on the small towel near the cabinet, before getting in front of the counter.

"Mom?" I asked her to confirm.

"Yes." She nodded.

"Be quick."

I put the receiver on my ear, as I looked around the dingy place called cafe, in search for my fat ass boss. If he ever catches me using the phone here, he'd cut it from my daily wage.

"Hey mum." I meekly spoke

"Hey darling." Came her wavered answer. I sighed in the phone. I felt nostalgia hitting me hard.

"How are you doing? How's everything back there?" I swallowed the clog forming in my throat.

"I am doing good sweetie. How's your studies going?"

"Good mom. I have my test tomorrow, I was just preparing for it." I lied through my teeth. I was not studying, I was working my ass off to meet ends.

"Yeah. I might have disturbed you?" She questioned.

"No mum. You tell me? How's Marie?" I got the conversation going. Just hearing her voice brought me calmness. It quietened the chaos inside of me for a little time, but it was enough to keep me going.

I talked for a few more minutes before I hung up.

It was always, painful to talk to my mother. She was no longer the strong woman after the death of my dad. He left us so suddenly. We lost him due to heart attack. We all three women were left shattered, but there was no way he was coming back.

It's been three years to his death, but sometimes it just feel, that he is still alive somewhere.

Wiping away the stray tears that left the margin of my eyes, I glanced around, before placing the receiver on back, I left to get my coat and things.

"Here's your pay for today." Sandie handed me the few euros which I earned for today, before I clocked out.

I sighed as I thanked God internally for keeping Sean away from me tonight. That punk always found a way to touch me or the girls in there.

I started walking back to the apartment me and Amelia shared.

She did not know I worked as a dishwasher as well. She always thought I go down the cafe for a coffee or something.

Mom thought the same. I made them believe I came in this cafe to chase off all the tiredness. I didn't want them to worry about me. Amelia had her own problems to deal with.

I didn't own a phone. It may lead them to me. I did not want to risk anyone's life, especially Amelia. I gave mom the cafe's number so that the calls cannot be traced.

Everyone thought I was doing fine in my life. Little did they know, I was internally breaking, it won't be long before I vanish from the face of the earth.

As I reached my apartment building, I sighed, again I reached home safely, like every other night.

Entering the all too quiet apartment, I closed the door behind me shut.

—

"lei è il capo sicuro a casa." The man spoke gruffly in the phone, eyeing the closed door of the apartment.

(She's home safe boss)

"bene." Came the deep voice of his boss.

(Good.)

"buona notte capo." The line went dead.

(Good night boss).

The conversation was the same like everyday.

—

The book will be continued in mid February.

An update for my beautiful readers on my birthday.

22-01-2021