Red Line

When Vincent finally closes the manuscript, he stares at us with those dark, piercing eyes of his. His voice breaks the silence «No bad. In fact…» He pauses, takes a sip of tea and continues «It's very good. Definitely better than the one you brought me last time.»

Beatrice lets go a sigh of relief. Dango leans forward slightly with a satisfied smile.

Vincent continues, and this time his voice has a hint of enthusiasm «The ideas, the style, the narrative tension! This text has something alive, something pulsating. It seems… it seems to be written by someone who deeply knows the boundary between real and unreal. I can finally see that you have put your mind to it.»

Dango glows at the compliments, but still tries to keep calm at the appearance. «Thank you.»

Vincent nods and places the folder on the small table next to his cup. «If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it to read it carefully. I assume you have the originals?»

«Yes, of course.» I reply promptly.

«Good. Then I'll take good care of it. Congratulations to both of you.»

We spend a little more time together, chatting and having another round of tea. Vincent tells us short anecdotes about his life in the city, with that detached and ironic way of his that always leaves you wondering how much is true and how much is invention. Beatrice listens, smiling occasionally, but her mind seems elsewhere. Dango, on the other hand, lets out a laugh or a lively comment, as if the weight of the initial tension had vanished.

After a few hours, Vincent walks us to the door at a slow pace. The dim light of the corridor casts long shadows on the walls, adding a veil of melancholy to the scene.

Just before crossing the threshold, he stops us.

«Wait!» we turn towards him, finding him with a slight smile. His gaze rests on Beatrice, but it doesn't seem to be directed at her.

«You know…» he says softly, «You remind me of my daughter.»

Beatrice looks at him surprised, her eyebrows raised in a sweet and almost incredulous expression. «Y-You had a daughter?»

Vincent nods slowly. His dark eyes, deep as a well, seem to waver for a moment. «Yes. She was... beautiful. But I haven't seen her in a long time.»

She tilts her head slightly. «W-Why? What happened to her?»

He hesitates. It's clear that the question makes him uncomfortable, but at the same time, it seems that Beatrice's naive tone relaxes him. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, casting his gaze down to the ground.

«It's complicated…» he begins, his voice barely a whisper. «When I was young, I got divorced. My wife... she never let me see her or talk to her... At the time I was poor, I couldn't afford lawyers... Once I managed to meet her discreetly after school. She had grown up, she was already in middle school... but she just rejected me. She said she didn't want anything to do with me, that she knew I had never wanted to see her... that woman, she managed to instill in my daughter's head that I didn't care about her at all... It was my fault, I should have done more to see her. In the end... children only care about who is present...»

A heavy silence fills the space around us... Beatrice seems to know what to say, but her eyes are filled with tears. With a sudden gesture, she hugs him.

Vincent remains motionless for a moment, surprised. In the end, he places a hand on her shoulder, without tightening.

«It's ok.» he murmurs with a sad smile. «Don't cry for me, girl.»

But Beatrice can't help herself. Her tears wet Vincent's jacket collar. It's in moments like these that I wish I had eyes to cry.

However... The matter doesn't seem to interest Dango. He has remained standing with his back to us, his face hidden in the shadows. He doesn't say anything. You can't even see the glimmer of a tear. How can he be so detached?

Vincent gently pulls away from Beatrice and looks at all of us with his enigmatic gaze, veiled by a melancholy that never completely leaves his face.

«I can't wait to see what happens in your story.»

We nod and say goodbye with a smile. Dango simply nods. When we turn to cross the gate, I can still feel his eyes on us. A presence that seems to want to accompany us. We get into the vehicle and start driving towards Lower City. For the first few minutes there is silence. Beatrice holds the pendant between her fingers, clutching it as if it could protect her from the thoughts swirling in her mind. Suddenly, she breaks the silence, her voice cracked with a rage that doesn't seem to belong to her.

«D-Dango, what's wrong with you? How could you be so... so indifferent? You weren't touched by what he said?»

So she noticed too.

Her voice is full of pain, and I find myself agreeing. «Really.» I add, in a harsher tone than usual. «It was... it was devastating even for me! And you... you just washed your hands of it.»

Dango grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white. «Mind your own business.» he retorts coldly.

But Beatrice doesn't stop. Her breath is labored. «No, it's not fair! He... he's still suffering from what he went through, and you act like you don't care!»

Influenced by her, I can't stop myself.  «Even I, who am a machine, felt like dying inside for him! You, you don't know how much I would have liked to be human to be able to cry!... You've disappointed me, Dango.»

He brakes suddenly, the tires screech, he opens the door, slams it shut, takes a few steps, twists slightly on himself and yells «FUUUUUUCK!!!!»…

I feel a strange shock run up my spine. I can't move, it's the same terrible feeling I had when I bought Beatrice.

None of us dare to move a single millimeter. After a few minutes, he returns to the vehicle, slams the door again and stares at us. His gaze is a mixture of anger and pain, and his voice, when he speaks, is icy.

«Want to know why I don't say anything? Do you really want to know?»

No one answers, but the silence is enough of an answer.

«Vincent didn't tell you everything. Yes, he got divorced, and it's true that he never saw his daughter again. But that's not all... When he was young and broke, his wife contacted him, telling him she would allow him to reconcile with his daughter. It was just an excuse to ask him for money. He agreed on one condition, that she allow him to see his daughter. She refused. And do you know how it ended? After a few hours of arguing, the armed forces raided their house. They had come to take his ex-wife and daughter away. They didn't know he was there, otherwise they would have brought reinforcements. He tried to resist, but all he got was a few broken bones and the pendant he ripped from his daughter's neck. The same pendant you have around your neck now.»

Beatrice holds her breath, her eyes wide open, shiny, clutching the small pendant tightly. I am incredulous at all this.

«And then? What happened to them?» I don't know how, but my voice trembles.

«Ask her.» Dango replies, pointing at Beatrice. «She knows better than the two of us.»

Beatrice starts to sob softly, her shoulders shaking as tears stream down her face.

«I don't understand... What does she have to do with this?»

Dango turns to me, his eyes filled with a hatred I can't understand. «She's the result of what happens when you run out of money, you get kidnapped, and you're turned into a lobotomized slave.»

«But... That's not possible, mutants are produced in a lab.»

«They are produced in a lab, but they don't just appear in a test tube... Do you want to hear the rest of the story?» Dango interrupts me, ignoring my objection.

I don't answer. I don't want to know anymore, but he continues anyway.

«A few years later, Vincent, now rich, accidentally saw his daughter again. She had been turned into a mutant and was serving a slimy individual. He tried to buy her back, but that man refused. Some time later, the man agreed to sell her to him. Excited, Vincent paid everything immediately. Do you know what he received? Her corpse, in indescribable conditions.» Dango stops for a moment, his hands and breath trembling, his eyes starting to get watery. «Vincent tried to get justice, but all he got was his money back with the accusation of fraud. Fraud, because the product was defective.»

His voice fades. He restarts the engine and drives off, leaving behind only a suffocating silence. Beatrice doesn't stop crying, clutching the pendant as if it were the only thing holding her together.

After forty minutes, when the tension has subsided a bit, Dango breaks the silence with a calmer tone.

«Let's go for a walk downtown. I need to walk for a bit.»

Beatrice and I nod slowly, like beaten dogs.

After parking in a garage, we start walking down the street. At one point, Dango stops in front of a small shop. The sign flashes irregularly.

«Wait here!» he exclaims, disappearing inside without explanation.

Beatrice and I remain outside waiting patiently. She holds the pendant that Vincent gave her and looks at it with sad eyes. After a few minutes, Dango comes out holding something in his hand.

«Listen... I'm sorry if I got angry earlier. I shouldn't have.»

We don't even give him time to finish. We both hug him tightly.

«We're sorry, Dango.» I say, trying to control the emotion that is squeezing my chest. «In that long silence I had time to understand my mistakes.»

To my apologies, Beatrice adds, her voice broken by sobs.  «W-We shouldn't have attacked you like that. We should have understood that you were suffering too.»

Dango returns the hug, and for a moment we remain like that, united by a shared pain. When he separates, he opens his hands, showing us three neon red bracelets.

«They are for us.» he says with a small smile. «I was already planning to get them after being with Vincent. I wanted to give them to you to thank you for all this time we've spent together under the same roof, eating, working and training. I wanted something symbolic to bind us together.»

Beatrice takes her bracelet gently. Her eyes are watery, but for the first time since it all started, she smiles. It's a weak smile, but full of gratitude. «T-Thank you, Dango.»

«Thank you.» I add, sincerely touched by the gesture.

We put on the bracelets and start walking again, each lost in our own thoughts. The city, with its shadows and lights, now seems less oppressive.

But our tranquility doesn't last long. Shortly after, a pair of patrol cars cut us off. Four law enforcement officers stop in front of us. «Please put your hands up.»

Before we can answer or move, a group of soldiers appears behind us, weapons in hand. We turn to them. The commander steps forward with a swagger. «This isn't a request, and you better not resist. Hand over the android.»