Will You Sun Upon Me

Clair had been on and off with Smith for a long time now. Sitting alone in a one-star Michelin restaurant, she was enjoying herself. At this point she knew he wasn't coming. He showed up 10% of the time. His love was his career and work. She was second, maybe even third.

Clair was a French femme fatale red lips, red scarf, high heels, high hopes for the world around her. Always smiling, always happy, always looking at the world with more color than there was. She was the opposite of colorblind - she was a colorist. Eating a chicken that looked like wood, this is some fancy stuff, she thought. The waiter was speaking to her in French because she didn't know any English. The thing that was funny: Smith didn't know any French. Their communication was, let's say, hard, and their lips were moving a lot, but not in the traditional way. Clair felt happy trying all these fancy dishes with little to no hope that Smith would actually walk into that door and then they could go together. They could enjoy the world together. She would like that. Smith to her was a very sweet man, caring, delicate, touching, with a great music record with piano that she could play. He understood that she only needed a few things for happiness: bedroom activities, coffee, wine, and croissants. Smith would always, even without understanding her, know what she needed and deliver. I guess he is really a good secret agent. He is one of the best.

While she enjoyed her meal, some other people were less fortunate. Some would eat what they could find, or some leftovers in the fridge.

Keane was eating some tacos with meat that he had made for the whole week. He would make 4kg of minced meat with some tomato juice, with some vegetables, and make some tacos often.

His Turkish boss, another femme fatale like Clair, fatal for Keane but in a very fatal sense. He needed money, but she was absolutely using and abusing him at work.

She was yelling at him again for falling asleep in the middle of the night when he should be available 24/7, always. He needs to be always available. "How can you fall asleep, you fatso?"

Keane apologized. "Sorry, Ayla."

"Don't you apologize! You messed everything up. You know I agreed that response time for our clients is within 15 minutes from receiving the mail. So you needed to fix everything and respond. But you..."

"I quit."

"But you... what did you do, fat, ugly, lazy cunt?"

"I quit, Ayla."

"What?" Ayla was confused.

"I will not be working for you anymore. Sorry." Keane said with his voice kind of breaking, voice soft and gentle. From a guy that was over 120 kgs of pure mass and strength in his classic woodcutter-like skirt, it just didn't match. His voice and look were not matching.

"Okay, don't be rash, Keane. Everything is okay. Listen, in a month or two we can raise your pay or something."

"I've decided."

"OK, Keane, Keane, listen, we will have some time for you to sleep, like a full 6 hours."

"It was nice working for you, Ayla. I will go now. I really can't stand your voice anymore."

Keane hung up the call. He went to the fridge to find some pickles, bread, and sour cream. I guess this will do. It is not a Michelin star restaurant, but if I heat up the bread and put some animal fat on it before, it will be close to 2 Michelin stars.

Keane was really stuck in a bad situation. Now with no savings and quitting this terrible job, he needed to find something quick. His mind was relieved that he'd quit, but he was massively stressing about what he was going to do now.

I guess I can eat and call a few mates to go out for beer. Or maybe I could call the easy-going girl. What is her name? Sabrina? Sadina? Ah, I know.... Salmina, yes.

"Hello?"

"Hi, yes, who is this?"

"It is Keane. We went for drinks some days before."

"I am not interested." Sabina hung up.

Keane didn't know how to feel about it. I guess that is okay. I am a pretty stupid and not interesting guy.

Keane was sitting on the chair and hoping that this chair was not the half-broken one. He couldn't afford to fall from it again, not now in this crucial beer-scheduling moment.

He wrote a message to his mate:

Yo, beer. Now?

Yoo beer?

Wilson Dudee??

Beeer?

Beerrr me dude?  :)

Lend me money?  :)

Will Son like will you son lol

Will Son will you beer with me?

Wilson and Sophia were in front of Wilson's mansion. This was where they had followed Sophia's dad to. Smith was a little further away in his car with binoculars.

Wilson's phone was buzzing. He was receiving messages. Sophia would look at him, annoyed to the max.

Wilson would make a stupid face like what is wrong?

"What?" he asked.

"Can you respond or just shut your phone vibration off? Are you mental? We are in a delicate situation here. We need to get closer to hear what is happening. So just shut it off."

"Okay, shutting it off," Wilson said obediently.

Smith from the car noticed that the targets were moving in, so he needed to make a decision quick. He trusted his instincts and decided to exit the vehicle and get closer as well.

He listened in and could not believe his ears.

"Your son is nothing like you promised, ja? He is some stupid cunt, ja?"

"Why? Piss off, Ludwig. Like your daughter is anything good. What is she doing, working in some corporate business? That is stupid. What is next, is she gonna make cakes with you?"

"Don't you dare insult my cakes, or I will end you."

"What? You will kill me?"

"Ja, genau. I will end you."

Mary was holding a Martini in her left hand and from anger spilled it over Ludwig.

Wilson, Sophia, and Smith were all spectating this chaos from the window, not knowing when to intervene.

Ludwig went after Mary. He started getting really close to her with his face red and covered in Mary's spilled drink.

Smith was getting ready to intervene any moment now and stop any violence.

Ludwig and Mary started kissing passionately. They were smiling and kissing.

Wilson had a confused look on his face. He was panicking. He started pacing around nervously, almost to near where Smith was hiding. Sophia said, "Eww, gross, gross, what in the world are they doing, those evil scumbags?" Sophia stormed off and said to Wilson, "Let's go, we can do the same. We are not kids, and we are for sure not watching them do it."

Wilson was still in panic mode, apologizing to Sophia, and started to follow her, with his head light, with his feet weak.

Smith was shocked as well. Could it be he is wrong and there is really nothing going on here? He decided to watch further, but he was later only traumatized by what he saw. He saw nothing illegal or dangerous to society, but dangerous for his own sanity.

Clair finished her meal and went out for a cigarette. She called a cab and while enjoying the beautiful night sky, she was a little bit happy and sad. She was happy for Smith. He is probably somewhere with his love, his work, that he enjoys so much. If he is happy with his first love, I am happy as well. But Clair also felt some sadness for herself. I hope someone is also happy for me. Wait, Clair paused. That makes no sense. Why would someone be happy for me being sad? I hope actually that there will be a person to make me happy, happy as Smith makes me happy.