Chapter 2 A Fateful Day

Weseleine left out a groan sounded a lot of a rubber being sawn before rolling to her side, reeling from the doorway of her bedroom to greet the cold wall she barely have the interest on decorating with. Her eyes are stubbornly shut off to any view as she fail to completely control her body over her will. Ears not blocking the continuously irritating sound of the wood echoing on every corner of her place yet she stayed still like a stone statue. Not bothering to move off the bed hoping it will pass and let her sleep some more hours.

Except the more she tries to ignore the frantic rapping on her front door the more it got louder and aggressive and faster and annoying and—

"I'm coming!"

She bellowed, had no other option but to make it stop.

Peace indeed been sent to her—'thank heavens for thy mercy!'—as soon as those words left her desert mouth. But from the unplanned raise of voice and ringing silence that follows enters the gleeful greeting of an uninvited pounding in her head. Weseleine was about to scratch her throat again and ask who on earth would come and try breaking down her door at this ungodly hour of probably still before five in the morning because she isn't sure and she doesn't have any clock in the room to tell her so but it's dark and she felt nauseous, surely she only had two or three hours of sleep—wanting to put the blame of her skull-cracking headache on this newly alarm clock she didn't know she had signed for. However, she was quick to bit her tongue and reprimand her leg that is one step away to the hole of embarrassment before lashing out because a stray ray of sunlight came slashing her right eye with a blinding light and slight-to-no warmth, sending her to open them closed, tired lids even if she still badly wanted to shut down her body this instant.

Who invented mornings again?

"Oh, alright! Just wait a fucking minute!"

Weseleine was back to working her poorly-rested vocals to hopefully calm the soul down outside her rickety door who came back on demolishing it. The blanket pushed off the bed is being missed by her body, shivering a bit although the cool air of the month had been mixed with the faulty heater standing at the corner of her bedroom. She felt thick and itchy all over her uncooperative body, limbs weighing tons on the bed with weights visible to no one's eyes attached on them.
With the effort of screaming mindlessly for the second time, an invisible hammer came to hit her head between her crushing skull that welcomes a dizzying sensation with no much of a warning—everything started to turn.

Her ceiling came into an interesting show of slow spinning wheel and she suffers a dreadful hint of her bones being under the impression of a very delicious jiggly treat—a jelly. All the things strewn about her doorless room moves even though she knew they shouldn't be, no explanation but pure logic. So Weseleine pushed herself to roll off on the other end of the bed with her leaden body and didn't get be bothered to stop until she falls off with a heavy thud. The bed can't be that far different to the floor when it comes to hardness.
To say the least, it's not that bad to meet the cemented floor first thing in the morning.

Thankfully enough for what little things she can do at the moment, the gesture helped as much as it can by accidentally banging her head on the thick book now right under her splitting head. Her ceiling isn't turning to her utmost delight, so as the things inside the bedroom, but the pounding choose to linger by—what more it got worse—and she's positive that a knife would be fine as a greeting to whoever has the death wish outside her door still on their mission of breaking it down into small pieces.
Unfortunately, and fortunately for the unsuspecting soul, she didn't trouble herself with the best 'good morning' greeting ever to be made because it'll just consume the remaining liter of her energy that's already been sucked dry by her couple of steps out of her bedroom. Once she's stood behind the full-of-pinned-papers-read-as-bills-that-she-thankfully-had-already-paid-all door and the banging continued to torture her that by now it rhythms with what's making her pale temples pops an angry display of the noticable veins, she blinks off the bleary-ness of her eyes and took her time on opening it—burst open.

"Good morning Ms. Weseleine!"

Weseleine wished she's wrong to accuse about the words that were enthusiastically uttered to her wasted face was filled with sarcasm. Yet even if she's being dominated by her headache and the irksome bright smile that's thrown towards her that made the sun wanted to shy away, she can never be more sure at her spectacular tone decoder. Regardless of these that made her day shitty already, she doesn't want to follow her awful wake-up call with more of this air and so her lips pulled into a frown.

She rubs her eyes and yawned so big and loud she see the disgusted face of the latter. Weseleine was not to get her day be ruined further, she'll be the one to mess with the others and definitely will not rest if it's the other way around.

"Morning. A lovely, brilliant morning old Lelin"

She said with her most deadpan tone yet eyes tinted with honey-brown color stared directly to his ones with a glint of mischievousness that the other immediately sneers at. The short bald man before her who stood right under her chin scoffs at the unsurprising behavior. Giving her first a disdainful once-over, she got the gist of it that she's still wearing her clothes yesterday if it's not for the shuddering touch of cold air on her bare arms, before extending an arm inside her apartment holding a trash bag.

"I come to say—for the uptnth time because your head seems to be occupied with lots of nonsense to drill my words into it—that don't drink outside your apartment when you are not cleaning after yourself!"

Weseleine was forced to scramble on her feet to stand aside, making enough space for the loaded bag that made a noise of rattling cans. Failing to notice that her headache eases a fraction bit, she watch with a horrified look on her unwashed face when he lets go of it and probably a dozen lot of crushed canned beers came in contact with the threshold. Some were vomited out by the bag while that what remains in hits her toes. Weseleine grimaced from how bad she must look at the moment if she did mistakenly finished all of them alone and from the offense on her toes. None of her bitchy attitude just a second ago were now exhibited for the living as no words of argument rolled off her tongue.

"I...sorry—I...I-I wasn't—I didn't know...last night I just...I swear I didn't mean to"

She jumbled out the words and lift her eyes away from the scandalous view around her feet. Beginning to get light-headed with stomach churning from how much deadly beverage she had consumed last night.

It's not unusual for her to spoil herself some random nights. One or two of it can quench her thirst but yesterday was an occasion that she needed to drown on something and so she bought maybe four or five of them at the convenient store just a couple of blocks down the road. It's only down to a friendly number, supposedly just to get drunk enough for her to sleep the pain away. However, the store have some discount or 'was it freebie?' shit that she had been handed more of what she had ought to buy on. Free things aren't for her to ignore so she pulled a sly smile and accept the extra bag containing the free goods.

"There are kids here. Be mindful of what you leave, you might get them or yourself in trouble"

No. The old man who lives by himself next door of the apartment building she currently living in isn't really that much of a sour human. Sure he have this rough attitude and sharp tongue that she sometimes wanted to shred off but his caring side comes floating at the surface whenever she got drunk or simply having trouble over some silly things. The hot coffee she didn't know the other had been holding this entire time that was handed to her slightly shaking hand is the proof of it all.
Weseleine can't help but let out a genuine and grateful smile that got return with a scoff and pat on her must be paler cheek. The latter might not voice it but she know he's very fond of her—a grandchild he never will have that she's very much happy to fill in.

"Thanks Pops, I owe you one again"

"Ah, kids! Just help me with trash tomorrow and next thing you know you'll owe me again"

Weseleine only sighs and sends another smile to the other's direction, silently tasting the word 'kid' that burns not only her tongue but also her insides. As slowly as she can, she tip the styrofoam cup where her hot coffee sits as to not hurt herself more. Drinking it in front of the potted cactus outside her apartment, the plant was a gift from Lelin who insist for her to take since her apartment is void of any life other than her sorry ass. Not like she spends most of her time here, the room is only for a place where she can sleep between her two jobs and if she did have a free time, which happens rarely, she hangs around the club.
The steam coming from her free drink warms her reddened face courtesy of cold, clearing her mind from yesterday of what trinkets she can remember before she devour all that liter of alcohol. After the familiar loud shut of door from her right, she felt herself more relaxed. Now aware of her easing headache as she leans on the doorsill and enjoys her dose to-free-his-head-from-she-now-knew-caused-by-hangover of caffeine alone in the quiet morning of November—

"Shit!"

Weseleine wanted nothing but time to magically stop.

"Ah—! Motherfu—"

She all but spilled half the contents of her drink on the wrinkled clothes who did her no justice on the freezing weather. Cursing even more when her tangled-passed-as-a-nest hair decided that it's the best time to get stuck on the doorsill. How is just will be a running mystery for Weseleine.
With a hard pull and cry of pain, she hurriedly close the door and frantically storm around her apartment. Mind quick enough to connect two ends of the dots.

It's not only because she'll be having a hangover once she came back from the land of dead why Lelin did came carrying the mission of breaking her door but the fact that she slept in on a weekday.

"Damn it—everyone had gone to work already! Fuck! I'm getting late!"


°°°°°


After the morning drama that she's very much acquainted of, not the news of her finishing more than a dozen of beer—the empty cans left littering on the threshold and the hangover subsides into only a constant tolerable pounding—but her close to flying from one side of her flat to another just to get all the things she needed because she's chasing the time again. Well, what's important is her smelling no hint of alcohol and looking more like a human rather than a pole poorly dressed by ragged clothes. You wouldn't really think that she got herself under the land of wasted-ness last night from how fresh her appearance is after a cold shower and what little left on the offered cup of coffee although she doesn't have any time nor possesses any makeup to cover how dark the bags are under her eyes. She slept late and rose up early—as early as how short she had her slumber.

Perfect.

"Sucks to be pale, doesn't it?"

Just fucking perfect.

Weseleine's nose scrunch up from the mild disrespect. It wasn't her fault her mother loss the sense of tanning and so were her long long long ancestors that she have no choice but to inherit it without her knowledge. Assumably, it wasn't still Weseleine's fault that she can't help but roll her beat eyes and stick her tongue out like a child to her student's sister because, apparently, it comes with the package of her huge inheritance. They aren't completely stranger nor close to friends but they do share small talks and banters, perhaps good acquaintances. That's enough to make themselves be comfortable to each other.

"Why am I here on your room anyway?"

She asked out suddenly because she was late for no longer than twenty minutes on her tutoring session but rather an earful of wasting her student's time by letting him wait for her questionable time of arrival, she got two rushing bodies about to dash down the long hallway and a quick apology because all her effort had clearly got thrown in the bin when they said they're cancelling. The eight year old boy is out for a school trip and her mother forgot to tell her this crucial information yesterday. If she had gotten the heads up then she wouldn't have trashed her place even more to hurry pass the time and wouldn't also have spend an expensive taxi fee, that cost her half her pay for the whole week of tutoring.

So now she is here leisurely entertaining the left sibling in their condo instead of getting extra money by working early at the club. Looking like a spent dog with her faded hoodie atop a long sleeved shirt paired with jogging pants, sitting on a chair beside the bed of this girl's room—Weseleine doesn't know her name though she's quite sure her mother introduced both of them. Oh well, why bother if you can communicate without names.

"Okay, I take that back. It doesn't sucks to be pale, you're stunningly beautiful"

"I'm not good with numbers and fractions"

Weseleine quickly supplies, tone bored and not the slightest bit moved by the compliment, once she saw that the other is fishing out books after books inside her bag. She watch her skidded back to where she is with two thick books and a piece of crisp paper before jumping down to her bed. Springs creaking on the weight that made Weseleine wince, wondering when will she have something as soft like that in his life. Maybe life is satisfied enough to give her a soft, long and golden-brown hair that is now tied in a bun—shame.

"I know, and it's not. You think I'll bother you and spend five bucks if it is? It's actually an essay about human expedition in afterlife that until now I don't know the purpose of. I just want some help for my use of words and if things that I mentioned here is allocated in these books"

Weseleine heaves out a long sigh as a response after a little short silence stretches between them.

"Come on! Please? Five bucks is all I have, mom doesn't know how allowance work"

She blandly stare to the pleading eyes of the other paired by a puckered lips that absolutely doesn't work on her. But if you're in need of money, you'll grab with such eagerness on every opportunity that is thrown to you. So by her state of not clearly bombed now, she still rubs her eyes behind their lids to fix her vision as it once again starts to sway. Quite irritated too since the lack of sleep is kicking in, only now does it completely dawn upon her lanky body, to help on sabotaging her time here because she fully ignored it earlier when she practically leap off the car and runs.
At least she get to have money out of this, not really a complete loss if you're 'bout to argue to her.

"Alright, let's get this done so then I can sleep more"


°°°°°


"Weseleine! My darling!"

An immediate roll of her eyes is the only thing Weseleine can retort to the beaming smile of the other, hugging her coat more to herself and quick to adjust the falling bag on her shoulder. The narrow alley making her journey up to the entrance of the club hidden at the back more cold than necessary. Her skin feels drier and her hair slaps her face like a mini whip when a breeze decides to torment her more.
Nonetheless, even with these, she's not about to swallow the yawn trying to escape on her. After the three hour session she had with her student's sister she found herself asleep at their living room. Drooling over the throw pillow there for two hours straight that she spend the last hour of her free time before her second work by hand washing it. Thankfully the smell of saliva got washed and she still received the money she offered the first time. But before Weseleine can open her mouth, two bulky arms caged her into a bone-crushing hug. She wasn't sure if her ears are playing tricks on her but a cracking sound made its way through her hearing. All air got thrown off her chest with the impact of his bulldozer body and vision momentarily blacked for a second.

"Oh my G-God, Yugo! A-air! Air! You're killing me!"

She choked out and sharply inhales all the available oxygen at once when she escaped death herself, got freed by the other. Supporting herself on the wall of the narrow way with heat radiating from the opened door. The hand that's drawing soothing circles on her back is the same trunk that had been the reason of her life suddenly flashing in her mind. Another questionable thing for her when the potted cactus is one of the many quick slides she sees.

"Stop being dramatic. Anyway, miss Chesly is at the back. She said she'll be waiting for you there"

Weseleine nearly lost her balance when a drunk guy came stumbling between them on the long path, shoving the two on the wall as he steps off the club on the young night. But she have other priorities at hand than being grossed out to the man who just breathe right at her face with his stinky breath. Weseleine squints her eyes to the bouncer as she walks inside, the latter now facing his back at her as he starts ushering people in at the club they both work for.

"Did you snitch that I was the one who broke the aquarium? It wasn't me! I was shoved—"

"No, no! I didn't said anything! But she seems jittery though, a bit nervous I must say—uh-huh, sorry bud, you can't have this knife inside. Come back for it later"

Weseleine took off her coat and quickly walks further in the building when a large crowd had gathered at the entrance and Yugo is back on his bouncer duty. Her mind going haywire on what could be the possible-hopefully-harmless reason of this sudden summoning of her friend if it wasn't about the incident the other night. Could it be the customer yesterday who almost call the police? It also wasn't Weseleine's fault. Curse that drunk bastard who mistaken her as his ex-girlfriend who she assumed got together with the guy just to have access to his bank account. She's only quietly doing her job and then there's a hand tugging her arm saying she's a cheater and a robber.

Once she's one last step down the stairs, a blasting music nearly cuts her sense of hearing. Conversation is a pointless gesture inside so every corner her eyes had wandered on have either two bodies entangled with each other with hands slithering under the safety of their clothes or people drinking until consciousness leave them, but maybe except the VIP floor at the further back in a makeshift second floor.

"Weseleine! Quick! We're having a party up the VIP lounge! Keira can't handle it alone!"

Weseleine frowns under the blinding neon lights that do her no justice since no one seems to notice her presence as she trotted up the counter with swaying bodies kept on colliding with her. When she got to touch the cold long table, she smiles to her co-worker who greeted with a tight smile before hurrying away, feeling bad for Keira seeing she's probably been flying up and down to the VIP lounge for more and more drinks the customers had ordered.

"Just a sec! Chesly want a word!"

And as if realization had sinks upon the bartender behind the counter, he almost drop the mixing glass on his hand and stared with wide eyes to her. Weseleine only looked back startled from his expression.

"Ah...y-yes—right, I heard! Go! She's already talking with someone"

Weseleine nodded but worried at the words of Giffry, the bartender, as she took a left after walking the length of the counter. Her heavy eyes before stepping inside the club got chased away by the breathless greeting of Yugo and her dropping shoulder sparks with tension because of Griffy. It wasn't as if she wouldn't have the slightest idea of who will be behind the door she currently is standing at. With something between nervousness and fear bubbling in her chest, she gulp and rethinks of her choices at the moment.

Weseleine can either open the door and see for herself who could Chesly be having a conversation with or step back, call in sick, and just show to work tomorrow when there wasn't Chesly and this someone waiting for her inside the back room.

She have a hunch, a gut feel she can never ignore.

It could be the owner of the club and is talking about her promotion that had been the talk for almost three weeks now or...or not. If she is to take Giffry's words, the person's identity would be unknown to him seeing he said 'someone'.

It could be him.

"No—it is him"

She breathe out. The ear-piercing cry of upbeat music is muffled to where she still is stood unmoving and the muffled conversation she can hear is all what she needed to confirm it.

/"But she already paid for it!"/

/"Yes, that lovely girl did. However, this is for a different debt she will undoubtedly have"/

Yet Weseleine still is hopeful for better days.