A Wolf in the City

21. That Psychopath.

Raven.

I wake to the blaring sound of Power by Beyonce playing through the speakers of my alarm clock. I moan, burying my head in my pillow, and reach over to fumble with the controls, but the sound did not just go quiet, it gets louder instead.

“What the hell?” I yell as I lean farther to pull the cord out of the wall, and fall out of bed.

Unfortunately, the clock and everything else on my nightstand table comes tumbling with me.

“Oh no! Not my new phone!” I yell again as I watch my now empty glass of water lay next to my sopping wet phone. Panic starts to set in as I hold the dripping phone in my hand. I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down.

Maybe it will dry out and be fine, I tell myself but even I do not believe the stupidity that popped up. “Yea right. Because water and expensive electronic devices go so well together.”

I rush into my bathroom instead and just go through freshening up is a little amount of time that I can.

Today is rainy day walking, every person is with their head down and moving at maximum speed. Those with umbrellas take wider berths of one another, the rest take care to duck when the spokes come their way. The sound of feet on wet paving stones is almost lost against the splashing of the traffic, only the click of high heels still clear.

The usual smell of the fumes is dampened by the hazy drops and every face is on the blank-stressed spectrum - at 7:30 am it's always the same.

The crowd of people rushes continuously to the bus stop to meet the buses and each person in the crowd moves as if unseeing hands drag them this way and that, pulling their eyes to one thing and then another. They respond in predictable ways, each of them with a goal to achieve for the day. But underneath that is free will, the ability to truly choose their own path.

Sometimes I engage them in conversation just to wake up the part of themselves that is capable of taking charge, making choices. Then they're off, back on auto-pilot, the most dangerous mode a human being can slip into.

I take a look at my wristwatch again and I am so shocked to see that so many minutes have passed and I might miss the bus if I do not quicken my steps. s**t!

I sigh and glance to my side as I pick up my pace but then on getting to the bus stop, my bus had moved and I cursed angrily. My eyes meets those of a man next to me and the forty-something man flashes me a creepy smile and mouthed the word, “Sexy.”

Ew. Why do men have to be such pigs? Throwing him a glare, I start to walk then run away from the creepy man and in the direction of work as I let out a long sigh, and take another look at my watch.

"8:10?" I mutter as I almost scream after checking my wristwatch. I quicken my steps and then I hear a c***k as I trip.

"No no no no. Please, please. Not the heels, at least not now." I muttered as I stopped abruptly amidst the crowd despite almost getting squashed.

I took off my left heel as tears welled at my eyes due to frustration.

"Stupid! Stupid heel!" I chastise the non living thing like it can hear me. I waddle towards the the extreme side of the sidewalks to avoid being stepped on and try to amend the heels. After finding the perfect spot that definitely look like no one would disturb me while I fight my battles, I scream as quietly as I can.

"Stupid heel. Gosh, did you really have to do this right now? At a rush hour? Breaking for that matter?” But then, can I really blame the heels? I've been continuously wear same heel every single day for years, even a human would have been tired.

"How do I show up to work barefooted on a damn Monday morning?" I keep blabbing on, the welled tears now falling freely as I let them refusing to wipe them off, I then bent down, already contemplating going back home. "I'm f*****g tired of this bullshit. So tired. Ugh!"

But then a car suddenly packs right beside me. A car that has a personality of its own with those raised and rounded headlamps. The car sits as if it were formed from flowing metal, aquatic, yet feminine with its curves.

It is those cars with the most opulence, expensive and mind-boggling creation of technology, a black luxury automobile that is enchanting, alluring and delightful, one which symbolises modern, rich man. Neither you and nor me can resist the charm of these cars, nobody can. From the premature times, we always have been attracted to best, dominating and superior physical object within sight.

This is that kind of car. A few people even stops to stare and to get people to do that on a monday morning is rare. The exquisite horn from it is what gets me to look in the car and on seeing who the driver is, I am quite glad because of the problem that I am in only, of course.

Dante.

What catches my attention first is the suit he has on. It is a "busy-ness suit," the one men would usually wear when they have no time for all the things that makes them human. All his best and most wonderful traits are suffocating under that tweedy cloth.

The suit is also as crisp as a new banknote and dyed to a uniform shade of bleak grey. Above the white collar line, it is as if his face have been fashioned from those inky dots.

I move closer to his car at the same time that he waves at me and mutters, “good morning,” I then proceed to open up the door of his car at my side only for him to lock it immediately as I can hear the lock sound clearly.

“What are you doing, Dante? You locked the door not open it?” I ask, confused.

“What do you mean why did I lock my own car door? It is my car and I can do that, can’t I?” He says with that cocky smile that make my stomach both turn and leap at the same time.

If only he will keep his mouth shut, he’d be perfect. A piece of duck tape across the mouth would do the trick and then I will not mind the daydreams I will have about us, in his car, in the restaurant, on the ship or wherever.

“Did you not stop to carry me or something? Are we not going to the same place? I figured you stopped to help me to work, right?” I ask, lamely.

“Uh... of course not. I only stopped to say hy to you. I am so not giving you a ride, princess. Oh, and you should also know that you are late so I would be running like air right now if I were you because you will even be extra late if you don’t so toodles!” He says dismissively and wind his window back up.

I had a feeling that he was simply joking but when he zooms off without a care in the world, it was confirmed that the jerk was not joking at all.

That psychopath.

I roll my eyes as the name passes through my thoughts; I just can not stand the man. He is the rudest and craziest pompous jerk I have ever met in my life. Since I started work at the palace, I would always listen to all of the other women in the office whisper and giggle about him because even I have to admit, he is drop-dead gorgeous.

But if you had any common sense, you realize early in life that beauty is only skin deep, and ugly goes straight to the bone. I have had my fair share of unpleasant men in the past few years; dated a few in high school and college. But this particular one just takes the cake.

It takes almost an hour for me to finally make it past the wreck that I am and the series of craziness that I have gone through in one morning. And by the time I make it to the palace, I am officially an hour late. Normally I would have called, but my phone is still at home, lying in a pile of water and tear soaked paper towels at the bottom of my bathroom garbage.

I walk past Dante’s packed beauty of a car and I can not help but wonder if I should just s***h his tires or something but I decide against it and walk straight into work while seething and holding one of my heels in my hand.

“Have I mentioned lately that Dante is a freaking psychopath?”