Mark walked out of another diner, his face sour as if having bitten into a lemon.
"Giving up?"
Catherine- or at least what he thought she wanted to be called- looked at him from the side, nearly stoic in the face of his many failures, but seemingly bored from the desperate madness.
He looked back at her with helplessness. A sensation that only comes from enduring rejection to the point of misery mixed with perseverance that drags one forward nevertheless.
"This is madness. I won't make any progress with the way things are, maybe I should change things up?"
She nodded.
They had been going around the city for a few weeks, nearly having visited every business in the central district- or maybe they had already done so. The last few places the two had visited apparently knew them. Of course, that could just be a lie so that they wouldn't bother with asking for a job.
The process was tedious and utterly trying.
"You have some time to take things slowly and cultivate connections rather than rush into walls. It's better to use strategy rather than straightforwardness right now."
Mark closed his eyes.
Catherine had a point. Patient planning would raise his chances of success, but there were also problems with relying on time.
Rising prices were the biggest threat, with the economic situation worsening, so was the employment situation. He feared that he would wait too late and become stranded.
The future was simply too chaotic. Perhaps something would happen, like a turn for the worse in the war, or maybe the government would issue some laws or inflate the economy to fuel their fights.
Mark felt the uncertainty eating at him from the inside. It was stressful to look ahead to his dreadful future. No, even thinking about it was nightmarish. The places he would end up in if things continue the way they are...
He solemnly tilted his head.
"Have you ever thought about what would happen if this war continues... if you were to watch everything you have helplessly slip through your hands?"
She paused for a moment, the thought seemingly having gone through her head before coming out with a slight smile.
"I told you already, it helps more to keep hope in your heart while preparing for the worst. Even if the best situation seems out of reach, believing in it will bring you warmth, that's why when I think of the future, I look ahead to a world without conflict, where society can once again bloom."
Mark lightly chuckled. Her answer seemed as childishly optimistic as it was comforting.
"Hoping for the best while preparing for the worst... what a simple way to live."
He smiled.
"I like it."
They walked along the city streets, a twilight sun painting the passage in an orange-red hue. Mountains along the horizon were outlined with a passionate light, the sky above fading in a peachy hue.
With no incentive to fruitlessly visit the local stores, the two were left without a destination.
As they approached a familiar intersection, the brunette pointed at a wooden door on a street corner, an alluring spell having grabbed hold of her eyes.
"You're not working there anymore, want a drink?
Mark frowned.
Despite becoming a bartender, he never liked alcohol itself. The idea of serving people the poison pulled at his morality before he got used to it. His only reason for working at the bar was that he could abuse his ability the most in that position.
Beer, wine, and the like- those were all things he sought to avoid having in his life.
"No, you can go ahead... I'd rather stay away from Royce for now. We had a fallout, remember?"
Catherine looked back at him, hesitation on her face. It seemed as if the brunette was holding her desire back to stay with him.
Seeing this, Mark patter her back while instilling reassurance and confidence in her.
"Go ahead, I'll be waiting outside so that I can escort you back when you get drunk."
She pouted.
"I'm not that much of a drinker!"
Mark laughed while prodding her forward.
"Lie to yourself all you want, but you can't fool me."
"Uhuh."
And finally, she disappeared beyond the creaking wooden door.
The chill of the approaching night suddenly consumed him with the departure of his warmth. The city quickly lost the midday brightness, with its few local lights being unable to replace the sun's splendor.
Mark began walking, not planning to go far, but not wanting to stay in the same place for too long. It felt like something was calling him forward, into action, refusing to let him remain stagnant. Annoyingly enough, the intangible drive was enough to set him into action.
He reached into the pocket of his windbreaker. Amidst the cooling night, a chilling touch in his pocket brought all the calmness he needed.
Throughout the many months Mark had spent in the northern district, he never needed to pull out the gun from his pocket, yet always made sure to bring it with him. Even more than the brunette, this cold, metallic killer was his inseparable partner.
It was the only thing that made him feel safe amidst the rotting world.
…
The young man walked for a time that was neither too long nor too short, a steady limbo settling that never grew dull. He saw the brunette come out from the creaky wooden door.
"Hey Cathy, drunk already?"
She tilted her head with exasperation.
"I don't think that's what you were supposed to call me. Also, you know that I can't get drunk in such little time. I have a resistance and I pride myself on it!"
Mark watched as she proudly puffed her chest.
"You really shouldn't be proud about that, it just makes the situation worse. Either way, what was I supposed to call you again?"
The brunette smirked.
"No idea, forgot about it while I was enjoying the pleasant feeling of downing the burning drink. "
Shaking his head, Mark began to lead her forward.
"You're supposed to be the one who remembers these things. I'll just call you Cathy for now."
She nodded.
"Sounds good."
A few seconds later, the two descended into a pressing silence while walking up north. The night had fully arrived, with the moon replacing the sun while failing to provide light to the city.
There was no more talk between them as they wordlessly remained close to each other.
The moment would have been indescribably peaceful, but there was only a chilling calmness.
Rationality and clarity were not too far behind either.
Mark looked up at the rising moon. Time seemed to move slower while looking at the seemingly stagnant celestial body.
He then glanced at the brunette, who returned with a knowing nod.
'Ah, what a terrible way to ruin a beautiful night.'
Listening to their footsteps, and then the quieter ones that lingered after, the young man resisted an urge to sigh.
At the very least, their pursuers could have done a better job at staying hidden.