FIFTY MILLION

The city lights are beautiful, aren’t they?
A heavy puff from his whistling lips, his eyes upturned to the night sky. He wasn’t gazing at the lights at all—no, he was looking up to the stars. Could he have been in a trance, or was he disillusioned? Either way, he stood his ground, right on the ledge of an unassuming building.

I’m right here. Why can’t I do it?
He shifted his footing, looking down to the sleepy streets below. It would be a solitary grave, a lonely end, but one that would no doubt spark attention, and attention was what he wanted, but achieving it this way seemed… pathetic.
Lifting his hand to his chin, a finger pressed against his lips, he redirected his attention to the eve’s horizon.

What do I even achieve? What did I achieve?
Nothing, and he achieves nothing as more time passed by. It was as if he was waiting for something, or for someone to be concerned with him. All he was doing was for attention, but he didn’t want to admit it, nor did he even realize it.

Still, he dwelt in his thoughts of a haphazard freefall. Each time, he took a deep breath, exhaled, looked down, clenched his jaw, sighed, contemplated, and looked up at the sky—trapped in this spiral of indecision that mirrored his life thus far.

Come on… It’s all over anyway. I screwed myself– come on, just do it.

He psyched himself up, thought of painful memories, hurtful experiences, the void he was in—he put himself in. However, each reason was paired with a rebuttal: You did this to yourself, and now you won’t fix it? You coward.

You coward. That kept echoing in his mind.

What am I? That was a question that kept recurring, starting some years ago.
Now you have your answer, don’t you? His breath hitched. His legs felt numb, but the admonishing voice kept his balance.

Then… I should quit, shouldn’t I?

Why am I even talking to you? When you fight yourself every day.

Who am I even talking to– are you me, or am I you?

…

I failed, didn’t I?
Without delay: Yes, many times.

He slid his foot against the ground, and now the midsole of his shoe passed the edge.

And you won’t even try again, won’t you?

I’m tired…

No, I’m tired of you–myself!

His breaths are now in short intervals. This was it. This was the moment, the rare instance where he made a decision, clearer than the twinkling stars in the night.

He aligned his other foot with the other, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, as if preparing for a dive into eternal waters.

He recoiled, momentarily forward, before pushing himself backwards, causing him to crash on his back on the safe rooftop. Groaning, he tilted his head towards the sound that jolted him.

The door, having been swung wide open, kept its momentum into a pendulum swing. The one who slammed it open was a woman dressed in a tight uniform dress, with almost unnecessarily high heels, and a bit more frills than your normal office uniform. She was panting, wheezing, her head bent down, hands on her knees, then, with great effort, raised a hand towards the fallen man. “W–Wait… Don’t do it.”

The man’s face contorted momentarily in confusion. “Do what?”
“D–Don’t jump off.” Finally, after recovering slightly, she raised her head to look at the man still writhing in pain on the floor, surprised. “O–Oh…”

Slightly amused, he mimicked, “O–Oh…”

Still, both were stunned by the strange unfolding of events and bade their time to recover their strength to establish a kind of normalcy unique to this situation.

Finally, the man spoke.

“Did you come up here for me?” he said in a soft voice.

Her mouth silently moved, unable to find the words.
Does this guy think he’s the main character? “I saw you standing over the edge, so I came here to stop you.” She replied, avoiding the simple yes-no question perfectly.

“You saw me?” But, there is no way. I was not on the very edge until the last second.

Well, he was partially correct in that assumption. Besides…

“To stop me from doing what?”

She looked at him knowingly. “It was obvious—you were going to jump off.”

But he vehemently denied, shaking his head, “No, I was just sightseeing.”

She groaned. “Fine, if you say you are, I think it’s time to come down now.”

His lips twitched in an incredulous smile. “What are you, my mother?”

“No.” She glared at him, mildly annoyed. To think that she went through all that effort to be mocked at. So at the very least, to protect her dignity, she snapped back. “But maybe you need one.”

His breath hitched, his mouth agape, he looked at her with glinting eyes. Oh, she has humor all right. “Calm down, woman, I barely know you.” He walked over to her, closing the distance, but the woman was repulsed, treading backwards to keep distance.

“Whoa!” She raised her palms out. This guy IS full of himself! “This is NOT your signal to hit on me.”

The man paused, blindsided by yet another insult. “I was just gonna introduce myself.”

She outstretched her hand. “You know what? Never mind, I don’t want to know what your problem is.”

This woman… He could only grit his teeth at her, but he kept his polite cool. “Just… thank you, okay? But I wasn’t trying to kill myself. You can leave now.”

She eyed him suspiciously before turning toward the door.

The man, after observing her leaving for the door, turned back toward the ledge without taking a step toward it. He sighed. Then, he walked forward.

“Stop!” the same woman’s voice bellowed.

He jolted for a second time and quickly turned towards her. “I thought you left!”

“I had a feeling you were going to try again.”

This woman! “That’s it.” He ran towards the edge. In that instant, he laughed to himself, thinking that he was going to end it, not because of his woes, but out of spite.

“FIFTY MILLION!”

He slid to a halt, only a few steps away from his final destination. “What?”

“In cash.” She cleared her throat. “Fifty million, right now.”

What does that even mean? Is she trying to insult me again!?