Oᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 6. 2024
In the sleeping City of Los Angeles, the light of Alessia's room is shone at the top floor of Petro's business. She sits on the bed in her underwear, sulking from the built up frustrations of her outing. Phillípe reminds her so much of Phillip, so how did she manage to keep it together.
"A fucking hypocrite." She grits out. That's what she is, to be upset over Petro killing Phillipeño and the others, when she kills people all the time.
Not every mission requires death, but red tagged requests are more popular and she does them easily. She sleeps peacefully at night and gets up the next day for another job like it's natural to commit murder.
Murder.
Her eyes glaze over and she grabs her face, bending over and sinking into herself. What is this that I've been doing with myself? Tears stream from her eyes as if a dam that has been there her whole life finally eroded enough to fall apart from pressure. Her face becomes drenched as water seems to be gushing endlessly from her tear ducts. She stares into the dark abyss of her palms cupped over her face and she wonders. Why now? Why is this happening now? It could've happened earlier... It should've happened earlier...
Maybe if she had believed in him, she could've saved him?
"Ungh..." She groans into her hands, sniffling and pulling herself up from the bed. What can she do now about it? Her eyes flit to the sensor on her wrist and she swallows the sounds welling up in her throat, dragging her feet to the bathroom.
Pale, soulless eyes resonate in her conscience, phasing into a bright silver, full of life. Instinctively, the first thing that comes to her as an answer to all her questions are, 'Should I just kill him?' As she stares blankly at her reflection in the mirror, watching her contact-less eyes pool and overflow, all she can think of is a way to get rid of this pain. 'Should I just end it...?' She's a killer anyway, how will the world benefit with her alive? Death isn't even enough to pay for her sins.
Contemplation. Naturally, it takes a while to come to a conclusion.
Alessia had wished Phillípe luck with his ambitions. She leans over the face basin, looking into the white, chalk sink, mulling, dwelling, over every possibility for her to stop this agony called life. How could she have thought of snapping Phillípe's neck firstly? It would be like killing Phillipeño all over again, a purer version of him. A version of him that is making her see a lot more in herself than Phillip ever did.
"For fuck's sake." She grumbles, slapping her wet cheeks until they're red.
She doesn't deserve to be liked nor cherished by someone like him? And, thinking so much of the past does more harm than good. Focus, she has to focus on fixing the present.
—
At three in the morning, Katya's phone goes off with a Sia song, "Boom, boom, boom, beats my heart, heart, heart. Baby, boom, boom, boom, in the dark, dark, dark. Baby, boom, boom, boom, fall apart, part, part. Baby, boom, boom, boom, from the start, start, start..."
Alan gets up, disoriented, cursing at the sound of 'Saved My Life' emitting from his girlfriend's Samsung Galaxy. It's alight and vibrating on her bedside table, yet she's fast asleep.
"Babe," he croaks, shaking her shoulder with a calloused hand, "your phone is ringing."
She bats his hand away drowsily, muttering, "Let it fucking ring. I'll call back when I get up."
The sound was bothersome. He's a light sleeper and rarely gets a good night's rest because of it, so he'd love if she could find a way to stop the phone from ringing. The caller keeps calling.
"Kat, please, I can't sleep." He groans, then drops his palm heavily on her ass. "Get up!"
"What the fuck, Alan?!"
She is up. He points at the device that's playing in its own world, a love song, "Someone must have sent you here to save my life. Someone must have sent you to save me tonight..."
"Answer it, you're up." And, it's fuckin' annoying.
She rakes a hand through her hair, sighing in defeat as she remembers he doesn't sleep well most times. Half awake, she reaches for the phone, squinting at the caller's ID--
"Oh shit, it's Lexy." She whisper-yells, before swiping up. "Hey, sorry I took so long to answer. What's up?"
Alan flops on his back on the soft comforter of the bed. He stares at the dark ceiling, waiting for her conversation to finish.
Alessia, now sitting on the counter of her bathroom, gets straight to the point, "Let's talk business."
Katya glances at Alan who meets her gaze, and she gets up from their bed, leaving the room to give him some peace and quiet. "What is it?"