Running at night gives me the best feeling. I usually start at my house, continue through the public park, pass the lake and convenience store, turn onto Lost Wood Street, run straight toward the edge of the woods, and loop back through Irin's alley. If I follow the entire route without stopping anywhere, my run ends back at my house.
"Ha… ha…" I stop on Lost Wood Street and pant heavily.
This is where I always stop automatically, either because I've run out of energy or perhaps because of something else.
I look at the gas station ahead of me—the exact place where I stopped and saw him. The scene plays out again before my eyes. I know it's only in my head, but it feels so real that my body shivers. My hands shake and feel heavy, as though I'm still holding it.
The helmet.
The helmet I used to crush that guy's head.
"Ha… ha…" I take a deep breath and run forward, passing through the illusion of bodies lying across the concrete road.
I run along this path every night. I choose this route not only to face my fear and control the madness in my head, but also because when I reach the edge of the woods, I can see the house.
The empty, lonely house has been abandoned for almost two years. I run there and stop outside, taking my time as my eyes examine every part of it.
I do the same thing every night.
"Ha… ha…" I continue huffing loudly. This time, however, I slow to a walk as I pass the house instead of stopping to examine it.
No matter how many times I look at it, nothing changes. Still, I hold on to hope—hope that something, or someone, will return.
I begin to walk away, but my eyes lock onto something different. There's something behind the fence, which is covered in vines. I let the curiosity win, and I step closer to examine it.
It's a motorcycle.
My eyes widen, and my hands move on their own as I push the dried vines aside to get a better look.
Why is a motorcycle parked there? It looks as though whoever left it there wanted to hide it. Or perhaps it has always been there, and I simply never noticed it.
No. It has never been there before.
It's new.
But why is it at his house?
Ding! My phone rings.
"Geez!" I flinch.
My heart begins to race. I take out my phone and check the screen.
Irin:Are you still on for tomorrow?
I type my reply and press send.
Me:Yes… What time again?
Ding!
Irin:10 a.m. Don't wear anything too sexy. I don't want our team to lose.
"Hehe." I chuckle.
Pfft.
Something moves against the branches and bushes.
What was that?
I flinch again, turn around, and stare through the fence. I put my phone away, take a step back, and slowly walk away from the house.
The following day, the King's Chovgan Club's sports field is crowded with people, primarily students from Apollon Academy and Avana Grande School, along with a few parents of the polo players. It is semi-outdoor polo, or arena polo, as people call it. I sit next to Irin. We're wearing ordinary casual outfits—nothing special and no uniform accessories. James and his friend sit behind us. I wonder whether football players are interested in polo. I'm surprised to see the big, buff guys sitting properly on the bench and wearing their football-team jackets.
"I never thought your boyfriend was interested in polo," I say.
"He's not, but…" She giggles.
"But you're here," I say.
"Hehe. I asked him, and he said he wanted to come." She glances behind her at James's friend. "And he brought Holland," she adds with a soft chuckle. "He wants to be a mastermind, but I can see right through him. Hahaha."
The sudden cheer is so loud that it hurts my ears.
"YAY!!!" Surprisingly, I recognize the high-pitched voice that stands out from the others. Irin and I turn at the same time to look at its owner.
It's Felicia, surrounded by her friends.
She is probably screaming so loudly because her golden boy has scored some points. I turn toward the field and watch the horses running around. Then I see the golden-haired rider raise his mallet. His horse is beautiful, with a glossy white coat.
Suddenly, Irin taps my knee and signals for me to look at Felicia, who is staring directly at me. She looks furious.
I wasn't looking at your boyfriend; I was looking at his horse.
I turn my attention back to the game.
"Hey," Irin whispers, gesturing toward the ginger-haired man wearing a blue helmet.
He rides his black horse with effortless confidence. His right hand grips the mallet firmly, the same way he grips other things. I can clearly see the veins rising beneath his skin.
"Here, Letizia," Holland calls from behind me, making me flinch slightly. He leans toward me and places a glass of pink soda beside me.
"Thank you," I tell him as I take it from his hand. Holland gazes at me with his light-brown eyes.
I shift my attention back to the game. Then I notice the team captain resting his mallet over his shoulder while looking in this direction.
"Oh, girl… Tytas is staring at you without even blinking," Irin says enthusiastically.
Suddenly, Felicia and the girls in front of us turn to look at me.
"Oh, fuck…" I mumble.
I drink the entire glass of soda and wish it were alcohol.
The match ends after an hour and a half, although it feels like an entire day to me. Irin and I stand close together in front of the sports field while waiting for James's car. As cars continue to pass us, the athletes begin coming out.
"It's getting hotter, isn't it?" Irin asks.
That's why I put my hair in a bun today. The weather should be getting colder, but there are too many people here. Loose strands of hair fall around both sides of my face.
Vroooommmm.
Suddenly, a motorcycle speeds past the club. It isn't the loudest sound, but I can hear it over the car engines surrounding the valet area. The motorcycle turns right, and its sound begins to disappear. Just like the motorcycle I heard that night, it has a soft, smooth tone that creeps into my awareness before fading into the background.
The image of the bike I saw behind the fence appears in my mind.
I don't know why, but I feel a chill run down my spine beneath my blue dress.
"Back there, Holland couldn't take his eyes off you," Irin says. "He's kind of brave to come here and watch his enemy's game." She smiles joyfully.
Her voice brings me back to the present. I shake my head slightly.
"Enemy?" I repeat.
"Tytas. Holland knows you came here to watch him," Irin says.
"I didn't come here to watch him," I reply.
"Yeah? Are you sure? Don't lie to me." Irin raises her voice, wearing a mischievous expression. "He asked you to watch him. You told me yourself, and now you're here!"
"Letizia." A handsome voice belonging to an equally handsome face calls my name from behind me.
"Tytas." I turn toward him while Irin peeks out from behind me.
"I'm glad you came. Did you enjoy the game?" he asks.
"Umm… I like horses." I don't want to lie, but I didn't pay much attention to the game.
"Hehe." He chuckles. "I'm glad, then," he says sweetly.
I haven't seen that smile in a long time.
"Here we go," Irin says clearly as she glares at Vik and Felicia, who are approaching us.
Tytas looks toward them before quickly turning back to me. He steps closer.
"We're having a party tonight. If you don't have any plans…"
"Just fucking ask her like a normal guy, man," Vik interrupts. "She isn't royalty or anything."
"Hahahaha." Felicia and Vik laugh together.
"Irin, babe." James stops his car in front of us and calls to her.
James is in the driver's seat, and Holland is getting out of the car. Holland looks at Tytas and Vik. Vik steps closer and puts his arm over Tytas's shoulder.
Tytas doesn't appear pleased.
"It's a waste of time. Her Highness won't spare any of her time for us," Vik says with a sly smile. "See? Her mouth is frozen shut, like the ice princess she has always been."
"You're right. Wasting her breath on you would be a waste of time, Vik," Irin says.
"I wasn't talking to you, Irin," Vik replies.
"We weren't talking to you either," Irin fires back.
"Shut the—" Vik begins.
"What's wrong with you?" I ask bluntly.
Vik closes his mouth and clenches his jaw, looking as though he is about to explode. Felicia, who is holding his other hand, looks equally furious.
"Go and wait in your car," Tytas tells Vik. "Give me a minute, will you?" He pushes Vik away by the chest.
"Hmph." Vik makes the sound and steps back.
"I'm sorry," Tytas says. He pauses after uttering the familiar apology. "The party is at my house."
Holland opens the car door for me and waits.
"Let's go, Zia," Irin says in an upset voice before getting into the seat beside James.
I'm about to enter the car when Tytas lightly takes my hand, making me turn toward him.
"Ignore him. If you want to come, then come," he says loudly enough for Vik to hear. Then he leans his face closer to mine. "Please come," he whispers.
"Is he going to be there?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
Vik's grumpy expression becomes even grumpier.
"He will, but I'll handle it," Tytas says. "He won't bother you."
Tytas glances briefly at Holland and moves away. I get into the car, and Holland closes the door before sitting in the back seat beside me.
After visiting an ice-cream shop, James drives me home. Even though the weather is getting colder, I can't deny myself some ice cream. I love cold things: iced tea, iced water, frozen fruit, and a cool breeze. Even when they send chills down my spine, I love the feeling.
After taking a shower, I begin choosing an outfit for the party and laying the options across my bed.
"Don't you think it's strange?" Irin asks from the other end of the call.
"What's strange?" I put down my phone and turn on the speaker.
"James. There has to be more to it than that. He sounded… suspicious," she says.
"Suspicious? He seemed scared," I reply.
"Scared?" she asks, raising her voice. "Do you think they're scared of Tytas?"
I remain silent while pulling on a pair of black tights patterned with flowers. "Or do you mean Vik?" She asks.
"Perhaps both?" I say softly.
I sit on the couch beside the window and look toward the woods. In the darkness, I can barely make out the shapes of the trees.
"Hmm… maybe. But what's wrong with that asshole?" Her tone changes. "Why does he keep bothering you? And why is he doing it more often than before?"
"Remember the day I went looking for Tytas at the field?" I ask.
"Yeah?" Her voice softens.
"I met Vik first. He was acting like himself and joking with me as usual, but…" I pause.
"But?" She sounds more interested.
"He seemed pissed when he asked why I was looking for Tytas."
"Pissed? How pissed?" she asks.
"He grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let me go," I say.
"What!?" she screams.
"Not until Tytas arrived," I continue.
"What the fuck?"
"I was very confused," I reply. "I'll be right back."
I get up and choose the short black dress, which is tight around the top and has a balloon-shaped skirt. I enter the walk-in closet and change into it. The dress complements my silhouette perfectly. I pull my long hair out from beneath it and return to my bedroom.
"Hey, are you there?" Irin calls.
"Yeah," I reply.
"I think he's obsessed with you, Zia," Irin says. "Seriously, think about it. He has acted this way for so long—teasing you and joking around. At first, I thought he might like you, but he keeps getting on your nerves and pushing closer and closer," she adds.
I sigh and slowly turn around to examine myself. The black tights look cute beneath the dress, which reveals a small portion of my thighs. I like them.
"You never showed any interest in him—or anyone else—before, so he was fine. But now you've started talking to Tytas, visiting him at practice, attending his game, and speaking to Holland. That's when Vik changed," Irin explains.
As I listen, I comb my hair and loosen its waves slightly.
"Like a fucking mad dog," Irin says. "He's one hundred percent obsessed with you!"
"Irin, he has a girlfriend," I remind her.
"So? A man like Vik doesn't care about morals. Trust me, he's fucking into you," she replies.
I bite my lip. "They can't keep their hands off each other. How could he be into me?" I ask. "But I don't mind a mad dog," I add.
"What?" she yells through the speaker.
"His obsession might come from somewhere else. I don't think he's into me, Irin. He's just a boy looking for a toy to play with," I say.
"I still think my instincts and detective skills are on point, Zia. I can read him," she insists.
"I don't care anyway," I say.
"You should care, and you need to be careful. Mad dogs can bite you in the ass," Irin says sassily.
"Hehehe. I told you I don't mind a mad dog. If the obsession comes from love, I'm willing to let him eat my ass."
"Hahahaha! Oh my—my Jesus." We laugh together so hard. "Fine, but not Vik. I hate that douchebag."
"Yes, ma'am," I reply.
"In ten minutes, wait for me at the front door, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," I say.
I wait for Irin to end the call. Then I put on my lipstick, sit on the couch again, and look at the view outside. Suddenly, my eyes settle on a shadow shaped like a big-ass motorcycle.
That motorcycle again.
I don't know whether it's the same one, but why does it appear everywhere I go? And why is it on my street?
"Ha…" I gasp when I notice the rider sitting astride the bike, lurking in the darkness.
Is he watching me?
I don't think he's waiting for anyone. I stare at him through my window. He knows I can see him, right? Why doesn't he ride away?
"Geez…" I mutter before immediately closing the curtain.