Pain & Loneliness: Something We Share

Jackie stepped out of the office into the chilly afternoon. New York’s autumn was cool, the last remnants of summer dying soon giving way to the cold and lonely winter. The man put his hands in his hoodie, an old dark blue one with a fading print of the US Navy logo in the center. He had it for a while, a real sentimental gift he got. A shallow reminder of the man he once was, before he joined the Marines. Before he was stationed in Africa secretly. Before everything.

The man put a hand through his black hair, brushing his hair aside. The hustle of the city, the sounds of honking and people chattering about their days reminded Jackie he was still on earth. He needed to find Tiffany. He pulled out his shitty flip phone and dialed her number. “Hey. Where you at?” He asked as soon as she picked up.

“Where I always am,” She said back in her perky tone. She always sounded upbeat. “Just see me on the corner.”

Jackie knew what she meant: 45th Street, on the corner of Market alley. He adjusted his gray jacket over the hoodie and began to walk. Jackie had a strategy for his walking. Head down to avoid eyes, walk fast, and shoulders up. He always hated how nosy New Yorkers were. Everyone wanted to ask him how he was, what he was doing, all those dumb questions.

He eventually made it over, smoking as he saw the woman, Tiffany Spinetta.

She worked the streets as well as any self-respecting sex worker could. She dressed nice, smelled wonderful, and had a charm that can woo any man out of extra cash. Furthermore, she was a beautiful woman with long flowing black hair, full luscious lips, warm mahogany eyes, and a fit, curvy body. Jackie questioned why she even gave a man like him the time of day. But she did, and he needed the company anyway. The friendship was going on one month so far, and it’s just as strong as ever. She saw Jackie walking, and smiled, teeth showing.

“Bout time!” She yelled from afar.

Jackie flashed a smirk and playfully waved her off. Tiffany always dressed to impress, even off the clock. Her fur coat, and black strapless dress were well-fitting. A sight to behold. With the kick of her feet, she met Jackie halfway, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before walking with him down the busy New York sidewalk. “Wanna grab a bite? Rose needs some food too, might as well.”

Jackie nodded. “We can head over to Sal’s. It’s a few minutes away from here, no?”

Tiffany slanted her lips, humming in thought. “Ain’t that Rossi’s turf? You sure you wanna head into gang territory?”

Lars Rossi. A name that always annoyed Jackie. He rolled his eyes at the thought of stupid territories. “Like I give a fuck about some glorified boys club. Fuck Rossi.”

She laughed at his defiance. “Listen, I get it, you hate gangs and all that, but I wouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackie mumbled. “I don’t know what I hate more. The punks bullying the people, or the cops doing jack shit about it.”

“I say you hate them both equally,” Tiffany responded.

“Hm. Maybe.”

Tiffany laughed as the duo crossed the street over to the next block. As they continued to walk, they saw a decent crowd of people huddled at the entrance to an alleyway. Police cars and yellow tape barred the entrance. The press snapped pictures, getting whatever they could. The two could only see glimpses through the mass, but they saw plenty. A man, dead. He was slumped against the wall, a shotgun blast ripped through his chest. His mouth agape, blood leaking from multiple pours. Maybe it was a hit? Maybe it was a random murder? Tiffany shook her head as she walked by. Jackie grit his teeth, seeing far too many. This homicide would go nowhere too. Another cold case the cops would be too lazy or too corrupt to solve.

They eventually reached Sal’s. A local diner with a bunch of soul. Some say they had the best steaks in the city. The two went inside, sat down, and ordered. Tiffany decided to get some breakfast since she rarely eats in the morning. Jackie ordered a steak to put his mind off the day’s events. He put a hand on his chin, rubbing the light stubble as he looked out the window while they waited, sighing lowly. He glanced over to Tiffany, as she was drinking her coffee, her head turned to the TV showing news about some gang violence in New Jersey. Jackie decided to make conversation. It’s the least he could do. “So, how’s life?”

Tiffany turned her head, the straight hair whooshing by at the speed of the turn. Her eyes faltered a bit as she honestly tried to answer the question. “Good question. Nothing’s going on. How’s therapy?”

Jackie grunted at the thought as he leaned back. “It’s hard. I can’t exactly share my feelings with somebody like that.”

“Why?”

“She’ll snitch. I’d rather be dead than go to some fucking nut house. I ain’t crazy.”

She chuckled. “Sure, Jack.”

“I’m serious.” Jackie placed a hand on his chest. “I’m a realist. Sure I got problems, but one of them ain’t respecting authority. They gotta earn my respect.”

Tiffany shrugged in response as the food finally came.

Jackie was preparing his meal when he spoke up. “Are you happy, Tiffany?”

She smiled in confusion, looking at him curiously. “Loaded question.”

“Well, you always keep a smile on. But I just…” Jackie combed a hand through his hair. “I just can’t help but feel like you’re performing. I might sound rude but–”

“I get it,” Tiffany interrupted, taking a few bites of her omelet. “Yeah, it’s a habit. Guys around here don’t like frowning. They always ask me the same fucking questions the minute I stop smiling for one day. You should smile more. Why the long face, girl? You look prettier when you smile! It’s so tiresome.”

Jackie began to eat as well, looking at her with worry. “Well, are you faking it for the job?”

“Not just the job. All fucking day.” She finally broke her performance, a frown showing as she ate a little bit at a time. The pain was clear on her face. Jackie didn’t say much after that, just letting the silence speak for itself. After all, they liked it like this anyway. Sharing their hatred for the life they lived. Trauma bonding, telling their pain in an attempt to lighten their load.

After picking up some food for her sister, the duo went home, the night sky clear with no stars due to the light pollution. The advertisements blinked brightly on the tight city streets, with near constant traffic honking away as the two walked, chattering about Tiffany’s funny story. She had her spark back, her moment of weakness long forgotten in her eyes.

They reached her small apartment, two bedrooms, one bathroom. It was packed with as much as you could in a New York housing situation, with nice enough furniture, a decent sized TV, a coffee table, and decorations about family with a crucifix right in the middle of everything.

Tiffany hugged Jackie. “Thanks for taking me home.”

“No need,” Jackie said, hugging her back before placing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be going now.”

“Not gonna say bye to Rose?”

“She don’t like me much anyway. I’ll give her something nice later.”

She agreed silently. She knew how her sister was around her friends. Never understood why. “For sure. Give me a call. See ya!”

“See ya.”

He closed the door and left the apartment complex, smoking as he walked out to the bus stop, waiting for it as he looked out into the sky.

Another day ends. The days mash into each other, like a constant cycle of pain. He’ll return on his own, in silence. Maybe he deserved it like this. Maybe he needed to repent to some god or goddess. He didn’t know. The city left him a chokehold of crime and loneliness, and he knew that a therapist wouldn’t be able to solve that problem.