His Fateful Choice

The girl in trouble

If I wasn't guided by the rhythm of the current song, I would definitely freeze on the spot under the intensity of his gaze. Those enigmatic eyes watched my every move, as if I was the only one in the room. My mind was suddenly as if empty and I had to concentrate to realize what my goal was.

But apparently, I was not the only one who seemed to be lost in the smoke-filled thoughts. The mysterious stranger still held my gaze and completely missed the fact that his companions were demanding his attention. Finally, one of them poked the man and drew his attention to themself.

The loss of his interest almost hurt me. God, am I really so desperate that even a man I haven't properly seen hurts me in my feelings? With offended pride, I continued to the spiral staircase, ostentatiously ignoring the stranger. Because what if he looked in my direction again?

I climbed to the second floor, where there was a restaurant, designed to fit into the glittering world of Scott Fitzgerald. Here I found Bill with a group of my new colleagues. Some of them seemed to be already in a very good mood and I only came half an hour later.

“Emma! You actually arrived!” called Bill joyfully to me, drawing everyone's attention to me. “Oh, hey Emma, glad to see you!” and “Emma! Hey!” came from his company.

“Hi, I’m sorry to be late, I completely lost track of time.” I said apologetically. A knowing smile played on Bill's lips, as if to tell me silently that he wasn't expecting anything else.

“Oh, it’s okay. If it means that such a beauty came to us, it was worth the wait.” Said one of Bill’s friends. Cheesy, but well, who am I to scoff at the compliments coming my way. So I just smiled and thanked him for understanding.

Even though I was nervous at first, Bill's friends made me feel welcome, and after an hour I felt like one of them. I don't even remember the last time I laughed so much.

By the time it became early in the morning, most of my companions were gone. All that was left of our table was Bill and his catch of the night, me and Martin, who was the one giving me the compliment earlier.

Although I tried to lead our conversation on a friendly level, Martin did not give up and continued to flirt inconspicuously with me. I was never used to compliments, maybe because I hadn't received them in the past. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that his flirting wasn’t uncomfortable to me for that reason alone. But I didn't understand what other reason it was supposed to be.

Martin was someone I would describe in one word as attractive. Tall, blond, blue eyed and apparently intelligent. Well, just a catch. And his flirting was sort of cute, little clumsy and little shy, but nice and funny.

So why I couldn't even think of having something with him was and beyond my comprehension.

Just as I was about to say goodbye to everyone and call a taxi, a terrible pain shot through my head. It was as if someone had taken an icicle and thrust it through my skull into my brain. The pain did not stop, and on the contrary, it gradually spread along my spine to all parts of my body.

I didn't understand what was going on. I wanted to call for help, but my body was no longer listening to me. My legs refused to move and in a few seconds my eyes just turned off. And then there was nothing. Just the awful, torturous pain that didn't want to leave.

I have no idea what happened then. All I know is that the pain eventually stopped, and I finally fell asleep from exhaustion. But how long has it been? Was it a day, two, a week or an hour?

When I woke up, I didn't recognise my surroundings. I was in a small room that looked sterile. Apart from the bed I was currently occupying, there was only a small wardrobe, a sink and a bedside table. All in light, sterile colours. I must have been in a hospital.

As I tried to sit up, I noticed that I had tubes attached to my hand. Oh great. I can't afford to be sick now.

There was a button on the bedside table to call the nurse. I reached out for it, hoping that the nurse would give me at least some information. At that moment, however, the door opened gently and a zombie head resembling my Bill peeked inside.

Oh my god, he looked awful. The circles under his eyes were the colour of night, and his uncombed and according to the smell also unwashed hair resembled the flora around some swamp. He looked as if he didn't understand what he was seeing. Didn't he expect me to wake up?

"You are awake! Oh, my God, thank you." He breathed a sigh of relief. He walked over to me and looked at me in silence for a while. My face full of questions probably prompted him to continue.

"You scared the hell out of me. And you took your time too. You've been out for almost a week. How do you feel? Do you know where you are?”

"Ehm…" I tried to speak, but my neck refused to cooperate. Bill understood and handed me a glass of cold sweet tea. I silently thanked him with my eyes and took a sip. Ugh, I hate hospital tea.

When I felt my neck relax a little, I decided to try to talk again.

"Um, I'd say I'm in a hospital." At the same time, I looked around critically, "In some rather cheap at that."

"Be glad I got you here at all. You didn't have proper insurance, and you probably wouldn't thank me if a bill for tens of thousands landed in your mail, would you? I had to pull a few strings. One… friend works here”

"Ooh, and who is the mysterious “friend” who is helping you smuggle unconscious people?" I joked, winking at Bill, who had blushed a little.

"Someone you don't know. And if you continue doing this -" he said while imitating my movement with my hands, which I used to make quotes just a moment before " - you'll never know." He joked right back at me.

But then his smile dropped, and he became serious. “But Em, we will have time for that later. Now we need to talk about what happened to you.”

“What do you mean? I was probably just stressed and exhausted, but I feel much better now.” I asked, puzzled.

“No Emma, I don’t think that is what it was. I think you are in a big trouble.”