I was so happy about the news, I almost skipped on my way outside. Once the initial joy had faded, however, a cloud of apprehension passed into my mind. I wondered what my unknown benefactor had been up to, how they had made two rabid gorillas run away, as I imagined it, begging for their life. Whoever they were, they must have been pretty scary to accomplish something like that. I was now worried that I might have just traded one problem for another… What if the person started asking for payment in return of the favour? I was so caught up in these thoughts that I walked right into some guy. I bounced off him like a rubber ball off a wall, and had to hold my sides to prevent my ribcage from falling apart.
"Hey! Damian, where have you been?" came Manbun's voice. He was carrying a gym bag and looked like he was coming from the recreational center.
"Ah... nowhere in particular."
"You look like shit... Have you been eating at all for the past weeks?"
"Not really, I guess..." It's true that I had barely eaten anything when I was sulking at home. These things tended to show.
"Hum, Eric... Can I ask you a question?"
"What?"
"You knew..." There I had a blank. What were the thugs called again? "Carl and Rashid, right?"
"Not that well, but I used to hang around with them every once in a while. Why?"
"Never mind, it's fine."
I immediately regretted having asked. He was bound to become curious and I didn't want to arise suspicions from anyone, especially not from him. After what had happened at the library, I was a bit on my guards as far as he was concerned. Was I overreacting? Manbun seemed like he was going to say something more, but decided to drop the subject.
I should mention at this point that "Manbun" had cut his hair short and wasn't wearing them in a bun anymore, but the nickname stuck in my head. His place was in the same direction as mine, so we walked along together. The conversation was awkward and laborious, at least on my side. Talking with him felt like wearing shoes that were too tight. Increasingly painful, but there’s no way out of it.
At last, he made a sign to say that we had reached his apartment building. I was about to keep going, but he cut me short as I was in the midst of saying "bye". He must have been practicing his timing at the gym.
"You're always so busy, I never see you anymore. Why don't you come in?"
Manbun's awkwardness detector must have been broken. Mine started beeping so furiously, I thought I would have to sit down to recover for a while. That said, I probably agreed in some way, because I found myself a few seconds later following him into his apartment. The entrance led directly into a rather spacious living room. While I was removing my coat and my shoes in the entrance, an upright piano by the window caught my attention. Manbun followed my gaze.
"Do you still play?" he asked out of nowhere.
I froze, staring at him.
"Do you still play piano?" He smirked.
"What?"
"You don't remember me either, do you?"
Once again, that uneasy feeling that things unknown to me were controlling my life knotted my stomach. Dread seemed to permeate the walls. The atmosphere became stuffy, the light was too dim, I felt oppressed. Dark tendrils were reaching out to me, grasping at my hands and feet, getting in through my nose and mouth, making it harder to breathe.
I faltered. "Whoa! Careful!" said Manbun. "Sit down. I'll get you something to drink."
He led me into the living room before vanishing in the kitchen. I stood there, not knowing what to say, mostly just trying to recover my spirits, trying to find my way in the maze of my memory. Who was he?
"Feel free to play something if you want." There was no point in pretending, was there? I hadn't practiced at all since moving in this city; I missed it a bit. I sat on the small bench and turned on the piano. I struck a few keys cautiously. The sound was nice. I did a few scales to warm up a little. Seeing I wasn't too rusty, I went ahead and tried to play some piece I used to know well. The darkness lifted by degrees, the air became breathable again. I was still shaken. But Manbun was, overall, a nice guy, no? There was no reason to be afraid of him. If he knew I used to play piano, we had probably met at a recital, since he apparently played as well.
"You're still pretty good."
"Thanks..."
I stopped and turned toward him. He held out a bottle of beer. I took it, unsure.
"Come on, drink."
I drank a small gulp of the cold drink. I didn't really like it, but I thought it might help with my nerves.
"Who are you?"
He laughed. "I could tell you, but I'd rather you remembered on your own. Don't make that face, we got along just fine."
That was to be determined. I put the bottle on the floor, next to the bench and I played some piece absentmindedly to dissipate my nervousness. He wasn't the kind of person with whom I would have gotten along when I was a kid. Even now, the only reason I hung out with him was because he was Clara's friend.
"Always so tense, you need to relax more." Suddenly, his hands were on my shoulders, slowly massaging them. I won't lie, it felt pretty good. I was about to object, but my protests died on my lips. His fingers were strong, yet supple, and he kneaded with just enough pressure to release all the tensions I hadn’t even realised I had. While I was busy turning into a puddle, I noticed that he wasn't using his right index finger as much as the left one. Was it hurt?
"Are you going out with him?" he asked.
"What?"
"Dr. Lewis. Are you going out with him?"
"No!"
"Don't be angry, I was just asking." I got up to leave, but he put his arms around me. I could tell he had been working out, because it was just like being held against a brick wall. A warm brick wall with a beating heart. My breath hitched as his voice resonated in a low rumble beside my ear. “You don’t remember at all?”
"I have to go," I said. I pulled away from his harms and stepped toward the entrance, but he caught my hand and pulled me back. I was preparing myself to explain that we must have misunderstood each other's intentions at some point when I got distracted by the hand that held mine. His right index finger was slightly misshapen, like it had suffered an old injury that hadn't healed perfectly. I shifted my attention to his face. This was the first time I ever saw him so serious. And even though I didn’t know it yet, he would never show me another expression from now on, apart from a sarcastic smile every once in a while. His icy eyes stared into mine as he said, "Damian, I don't trust that guy. Be careful."
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