Nameless by Kyle Chais
Publisher Gallery Books/Karen Hunter Publishing
Release Date: January 10, 2012
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Busy hands keep a man sane. Busy hands keep a man proud. Busy hands give a man hope. What happens when the busy man finishes his work! Will love be the thread that keeps those enough for more work to arrive? And how long will that thread hold?
It’s been three years and I’m still in this body. Nice and neat, I might add. I cleaned up the apartment quite nice. I didn’t add much decoration except for clocks in every single room, including the closets. A fellow has to keep track of time you know.
Over these three years, I have acquired careers that most humans view as desirable. I used my mass millennial experience to flash through college for a Ph.D. in literature studies and a Ph.D. in psychology. (Also with a little help of light hypnosis. Just a little.) Under the pseudonym Harry Baal, I have written several self-help books, which have sold millions of copies.
The landlord and I are best of friends. Well … he's friends with me. He's amazed about the change in personality. He's even commented, "Are you another person?" a few times. Rent is always on time and doubled. He invites me for dinner. I turn down the offer. He owns seven cats. Sephirot hates the smell of other cats.
Sephirot and I have a commitment to each other, and I wouldn’t let a man get between us. He would never have bothered to ask me over if I didn't have money. He treated Aurick like trash before. What a change.
It's funny that I didn't have these thoughts before I was grounded. We enter the world single and leave the world single. Money can buy you anything: companionship, trust, lovers, etc. Well… almost anything. With all the riches in the world, I can’t buy time.
I'd also formed a rock band called Nameless, which was quickly growing in popularity. The music is a blend of gothic, alternative, and progressive metal. The songs, written by me, are typically longer than most rock songs. I made the compositional structures as complex as a Beethoven piece, but the lyrics are short and simple. In addition to composing songs, I work mostly as the band’s legal counsel, manager, I play rhythm guitar on certain songs. I play primarily because l didn't feel like finding another member, but I will admit … I do like some of the praise that comes from being on stage. Just a bit.
My stage name is the Guitarist with No Name. It's No- Name for short. I wear a masquerade mask. This prevents Fans from recognizing me. I try to act as boring as possible by playing my instrument, sitting on a stool in the background, moving nothing but my fingers and wrists. The troubling thing is that the more melancholy I appear, the more metal I am to the fans.
We are getting more and more requests for interviews, but I don’t do interviews. This gives me the freedom to do what I want and not be pestered by paparazzi and our mindless fans.
I donate most of the money I earn to my coworkers and charity. Still living in that same old, cruddy apartment, I haven't even changed a single piece of furniture, partly in anticipation of Aurick's somehow regaining control of his body.
The only things I actually pay for are food, rent, water, electricity, soap, clothes…and curtains. I love curtains. Their beautiful silky texture. Their infinite number of designs. Just like the stars. I love them so much
Yet my boredom has returned. Even with all the careers and hobbies, can't escape this dreaded melancholy. I am currently waiting for my next patient at my downtown office, looking at the watches I wear on each arm. I have shelves filled with all sorts of books. I have fairy tales such as Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and Aesop's Fables. I have various essays by psychologists and philosophers such as Fredrick Nietzche, Sigmung Freud, and Aristotle. I have religious texts, such as Pali Canon, Quran, and Bibke. These books can be useful in sparking conversations with anyone of any sort of background. I also try to fit in the book The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Most times using that story isn't appropriate for the situation I'm dealing with, but, eh ... like talking about it. It's one of my favorite stories
And just in case you were wondering, no, religious texts do not have holy energy that burn unholy beings such as myself. The only pain us Fallen get from reading them are paper cuts. What a ridiculous notion. In fact, I’ve read them all. No human knows religious text better than I do.
Admittedly, I try to put the Bible at the side where it's harder for my patients to see. The closer I come to my demise, the greater my intolerance for looking at the thing. I don't appreciate the constant reminder of my time running out.
But on to the positive side of things. This is my favorite gig. Nothing beats watching people’s mental stability collapse in front of your eyes. Though t hat's fun, for a challenge I do what I can to fix their brains ... sometimes. Lately, this also has grown dull. The man I just saw was suffering from depression and was having nightmares about killing people. Yawn!
I raised my eyebrow. "So that I will know the time. Why else?" What a stupid question.
Cullen nodded and didn't ask more of it. He comes every week without fail. He tells me about how his wife beats him. His wife burns him with cigarettes when he doesn't jump up to do what she tells him. And when he does jump up to do chores, he gets another lashing if it’s not done right. He says he particularly fears her in famous talons. Every week there's a new crimson scratch on his body, especially on his neck. He doesn't feel like much of a man anymore. His friends and family don't help much. They tease him almost as badly as she does. As a result, he has low self-esteem. He stays with her for the sake of the kids. I keep telling him to leave her, that she's not good enough for him. He's too in love and too scared to do it. He says he contemplates suicide sometimes.
I was growing weary of this man. I have been for weeks. None of the conventional therapy approaches were working so I thought I might try another approach. I slammed my knife on the desk, pinning it deeply into the wood.
"What's with the knife?" Mr. Hold field said.
"Why do I have a knife?" I said, shrugging my shoulders.
He stared at me quizzically for a few seconds. "Um, I know don’t know.”"Come on. I’m sure you can come up with something." He shook his head and looked around the room as his brain tried to process everything tor an answer. “To peel an apple?”
"No,” I said flatly. He widened his eyes, staring, I stared back. "Go ahead."
"No,” I said flatly. He widened his eyes, staring, I stared back. "Go ahead."
He laughed shortly and smiled. "To stab me?" he said, and shrugged his shoulders.
"What are you getting at?"
"You have three options, Cullen Holdfield. Option number one: you leave her. Option number two: you work it out t. Option number three: you take this knife here and kill yourself." I tossed some painkillers on the desk. “Slitting your wrists can hurt a bit so these should help." "This is crazy. This is unlike you."
''I'm a complicated person.”
He yanked the blade from the desk and held it in his hand, sat ring at it.
"This is where you’re headed, so why wait any longer?" I said. "You told me you've thought of this. You told me this was the cleanest way to go, so go."
Cullen's eyes watered. He stared at the sharp blade for a good couple of minutes.
"What are you waiting for'?" I urged. "I thought you wanted to separate from your wife. Do it!"
He held the cold blade to his left wrist. Tears ran down his face and dripped on the blade. He jerked back, gasped, and dropped the knife to the floor.
“Just as I thought,'' I said smugly.” You don't want to die. But you don't want to live t h e rest of your life, like this, either. So do us all a favor, leave this lady. Find some JOY in your miserable existence. Stop wasting my time. It’s as simple as that." Cullen got up and quietly left. I was sure that he wasn't going to come back ever again.
My next patient soon came in. Her name is Helen a Way. She is an American woman. She has pale skin. She was wearing long, black pants and a long, black shirt, her jogging clothes. She tells me she likes to appear as common as possible when off work. She tells me she can't stand her coworkers and being cookie-cut into their patterns. She weighs in at about 120 pounds. She's five feet nine inches tall. She's pretty, but not the most appealing woman on the planet. Maybe it’s the lack of makeup during our sessions?
But what made up for all of that is her hair. Her beautiful long, sleek, jet-black hair. Her hair is so long that it reaches down to her knees. Her network loves it also because it helps distinguish their newscast from others.
I imagine her hair covering my entire body. It reminded me of … her.
She opened up her mouth to speak and uttered, "Why do you have two watches on?" What a wonderful question.
"It’s to know what time it is," I said, tilting my head.
Helena speaks with a calm, gentle, but nonetheless pompous attitude, just like my own. She spoke to me about how her day was and what had been troubling her the past week. She's so good as a reporter that she usually works alongside lawyers and sometimes the FBI. She once went undercover at a slaughterhouse upstate. She discovered and exposed an underground sweatshop and single-handedly brought the company to ruin. During a bloody war, she dove into the danger of battle for news coverage. Her efforts proved fruitful with the incrimination of a certain leader using her bombshell coverage.
Her antics get her a lot of death threats and murder attempts. Being one of the non-corruptible symbols of the city gave Helena the nickname the Second Coming of the Muckrakers. She tells me about what she does and a little about the cases she works on. For weeks, she vented about all of her boring problems and l gave her my divine advice, which she often rejected, annoying me greatly. Yet, that was also intriguing. Helena had a melancholic personality at first, but the more sessions we had together, the more exciting and open she became. She opened up almost every weird corner of her personality, which always kept me guessing.
She told me she had always wondered if she would ever have sex with her identical twin. She thought it wouldn’t be considered gross since they’re practically the same person.
Helena told me about her wild adventures as a field journalist back in the day. She told me that she never lets a great story slip through her fingers. She does whatever it takes to be the first to get it. She once pulled a gun on a teenager who wouldn’t give his eyewitness account. The teen didn’t know that it was a toy gun so he gave his story to her. She then blackmailed him and gave him some money to keep his mouth shut.
Another funny story was when she dressed up as a clown to infiltrate an independent circus ring. They were suspected of kidnapping people on their tours and selling them into slavery. When the suspects discovered her presence, she released all the wild animals on them to make her escape. It turned out that they weren't really human traffickers. It was just a false rumor.
Helena maybe the first interesting person I’ve met in centuries. I could barely wait for her return. In between sessions, it felt like an eternity. She never missed her appointments, but one day she was late. I sat with my hands folded, tapping my pen on the desk speculating what could have happened to her. I started off thinking, "How unprofessional!" But as the minutes ticked by, I became concerned, wondering if she had finally been killed. Waiting for Helena’s arrival was almost painful to endure. She finally arrived, which curiously caused me to become jittery. Imagine me, jittery!
"Wouldn’t that be going against doctor-patient policy?" Helena said quizzically. She was right on point. I had to think of something quickly
"Oh, it is only to continue the session outdoors. I believe you will be more comfortable expressing yourself."
She was still a little unsure, but she agreed to go through with the session outdoors. The funny thing was, when we got to the park, we didn't even jog. We just talked and made fun of the people who walked by the bench we were sitting on. Fat people, short people, ugly people, poor people, rich people, crying people. It was all just so much fun. Helena's Laughter was adorable. It was a laugh of a child. The Helena that wore makeup is surely different from this Helena. 1 realized that makeup not only hides one’s humanity on the outside, but the humanity of the soul as well. This was the real Helena.
A Frisbee hit Aurick in the forehead. Aurick's shoulder muscles tensed up. I jumped up and stomped Aurick's feet on the ground and scanned around to find the fool who threw it. I t was a young boy. He was laughing hysterically with his two friends. This would not go unpunished. My eyes targeted the terrorist. Perfect accuracy is one of my specialties. Nice and precise. Vengeance was absolutely mine. I noticed Helena. She was giggling. This was different. This wasn't the fake laugh that she used to perform for my terrible jokes in the office or the kind she put on in front of the camera.
“You like… this game?”
Helena jumped up and took the Frisbee from me. She flung it to the terrorists.
"Would you like to play?" I said, shrugging my shoulders.
And there we were, hopping and dashing about across the field. This was terrible. Grass stains were attacking the bottoms of my lovely pants and shoes. Though I wanted to cry from the degrading of the fabric, the sight of Helena's enjoyment made it worth it. She's so ... childlike. I bought the three little boys ice cream. They wanted to play with us more but it was time for us old folks to rest. As we departed, one of the boys reminded me to give him back the Frisbee, which I was holding. My thirst for vengeance still gnawed at my toes. I flung it at him, knocking the ice cream out of the little fool's hands. He cried. I smiled inside.
We plopped down on the bench and stretched our bones and aching muscle fibers.
"This is nice, Dr. Pantera. You make me feel ... normal."
"Normal is boring."
"True." She laughed. She stared deeply into my eyes. I felt uncomfortable. It looked as if she was trying to figure something out.
"What?" I said.
"You're smiling."
I didn’t think that was a big deal. I didn't even realize I was smiling in the first place.
"So? Don't all hum-I mean, people smile?"
"You know that's the first time I have ever seen you smile," Helena said, smiling herself. "I t's a nice smile."
Her smile made me smile. And I felt … exceptional. We spent the next moments admiring the bright, smoggy sky of New York City. I wanted to draw more out of Helena so I said, “Isn’t the sky amazing? It's amazing that a single being designed all of this. Don't you think?"
"I didn't know you were a believer." Helena sighed. "Lucky you.”
"What do you mean?"
She didn't turn to look at me. She kept her eyes to the blue sky. "I meant that you’re lucky that you’re a believer. People like you seem to be happier. Happy and full of hope and all. Usually the dumb ones though." "You do not have hope?" "I hope that when I die the doctors will find patients who'll be able to use my donated organs."
"That's your hope?"
At that, Helena finally focused her eyes on me. It seemed that she was getting upset. ''I'm just saying it's hard to believe there's an all-knowing being that looks out for everyone."
"I could sort of believe that."
"Oh, yeah, well, let me tell you something," she said, raising her tone. "When I was seven, my priest touched me where his fingers didn't belong. All eleven of them. I cried to my parents about it, but they were proud, stern believers, so they didn't believe me much. But they did confront the priest about it. He admitted to what he did. And you know what?" Helena waited as if I were going to ask. "He apologized and confessed his sins. He went back to leading the congregation in a month."
This was the first time I was hearing this. She was opening up to me. She refused to before. The only reason she came to me was because her superiors, uncharacteristically concerned, ordered her to go to therapy because of her pathological urge to go toward crisis. Helena was the face of their industry. She was too valuable to lose.
This revelation was as I thought. Helena had so much in her past that still gnawed at her. Mental chain mail was the only thing that kept her going.
"Your parents didn't tell the police?"
She laughed at what I said. "They were admonished to not tell. Didn't want to rattle the cages. Like I said , they were proud , stern believers, so they didn't dare tell on him. Right in the Lord’s house. So let me ask you something?" Her voice and fingers stiffened. "Where was God when that freak was thrusting in to me over and over again despite my cries of pain? Huh?" I didn't dare to respond. "Like I thought. Life’s a bitch and then you die. That's my philosophy. Just hope that there’s plant life around to feed on your carcass."
Helena was always intense, so this didn’t t bother me. What did bother me was that I was living proof of God’s existence, but I couldn't dare tell her that. I would be in danger of getting even more punishment. All I could do was get close enough to talk to her about her life. After we had our session, asked her out for dinner, deciding to do away completely with therapist-client boundaries. She declined, saying that she was in a relationship with another man.
“So what?”
“So I won’t go out with you.”
I treaded through the city for hours until the sun fell asleep.
I was humiliated at being turned down by a mere human. It wasn't as if I wanted a romantic relationship. I just wanted someone deep to talk to, which is hard to find. Though she said that she didn’t believe in God, she still held a code of honor. This fact boiled in me, but I was also gripped with curiosity as well. A hum an n sticking by such trivial moralities these days was … intriguing.
I couldn't stand waiting for another appointment so I picked up my phone, canceled the rest of my sessions, and went to Helena's house to find out more of what she was about. She lived on the top of a thirty-two-story apartment building. The inside of the building was extravagantly decorated with sparkling c chandeliers, marble floors and walls, and, best of all, embroidered silk curtains. I was surprised that she lived in such a place because she always wore cheap clothing. I didn't want to frighten her with the knowledge that I was following her, so I went up a building parallel to hers that was the same height. Security menquestioned me, but with my hypnotic charm they let me pass. I took the elevator up to the highest floor. From there, I went up the steps to the rooftop. The gravel on the roof was messing up my shoes. I’d just gotten them polished too. I stood on the edge of t h e ledge, bracing myself against the chilly autumn wind. The smell of the crisp, brisk air of the night was most refreshing.
My extraordinary eyes allowed me to peer into her apartment. She took a shower for forty-five minutes and eight seconds. She brushed her teeth for two minutes and twenty three seconds. She brushed her hair for five minutes and two seconds. A man knocked on her door. She opened the door for him and embraced him close to her chest. He had the chiseled face of a supermodel. He didn't look too deep. All muscle but no brains. They started kissing and then entered the bedroom. I looked on until an old, annoying friend appeared.
"Long time no see, buddy!"
He appeared upside down, suspended in midair in front of me, past the ledge. He chose to appear as a Caucasian human in his late teenage years. I've known him for a few thousand years since the Eden Incident. I actually knew him much longer than that, but I've never talked to him as much after that day.
"How long after have you been following me, Aisely?" I said. "How long have ya been following this little hottie? More like stalking." He speaks with a childish, playful tone.
‘‘I’m not stalking, I’m researching."
"Awww, don't tell me that ya fell in love. Kenny and Helena, sittin' in a tree. K-1-S-S-1-N-G. You're such a cute little Peeping Tom.''
"Stop calling me random names, you foul heathen! My name is now Aurick."
"Oh, so your name is Aurick now. Can you ever decide on a stable name?"
"Why don't you mind your own damn…” Suddenly, both my arms went numb and the right side of my body started to feel pain.
"You okay, man?" Aisely said with a concerned expression while sustaining a smile.
I could no longer see out of my left eye and I started to get extremely dizzy. My legs collapsed and I fell over the edge of the rooftop. While I was falling, I lost consciousness so I couldn't leave Aurick's body. When I came to consciousness, I was on my back on the hard rooftop gravel. I was still dizzy, so I couldn't stand up. I sat up and rubbed my head.
"Hey, Aurick. You almost got your host killed. That wouldn't have been a good thing, ya know. Good thing you have a great friend like me to bail ya out,” Aisely said, knocking on my head like a door.
"What happened?" I said, rubbing my eyes.
"Your body had a heart attack. If it weren’t for me, you'd be dead. You’ve been in that body for too long.
It's time to leave it." "No, I’m not done with it. There're still things I have to do with this host."
"For what? Oooh, I get it. You want that woman to yourself
don't ya?"
“I asked her out, but she has a boyfriend."
"Well, why should she go out with you when she has that pretty boy over there taking good care of her?"
Aisely looked into her apartment. ''Wow, he sure knows how to handle a woman."
Aisely walked me home to my cruddy apartment. On the way we spoke to each other, making other people think I was crazy because it looked as if I were talking to myself. Aisely was invisible to them. When we got home, he sat down on my couch, put his feet on my coffee table, and started to watch television.
"How'd you find me, Aisely?"
"How couldn't I find you, Aurick? You have one of the best bands in history. You're more famous than Jesus. You were bound to get attention. With all of that fortune, why do you live in such a dump?''
''This way of living is sufficient for me."
There was a knock on the door, so I answered it. It was Jamie. She lived in the apartment above me. Jami e had had a crush on Aurick ever since he'd moved in and had been asking me out constantly these past three years. At first, she was just an annoying pest. But after a while, I came to a liking of her. She's always cheerful even when she's depressed. She had a boyfriend whom she's with now. She genuinely liked him but
they had fights because he was always cheating on her.
"Aurick, are you coming to my party? Me and Micky are throwing it. It’s next week," Jamie said, holding her hands together and fidgeting around. I turned her down and lied that I had something else to do. She looked disappointed and said, "That's okay; I know you have more important things to do than be at a stupid party. Here, I made you these."
She handed me a plate of cookies. Jamie always made me cookies. They were just scrumptious, made with her secret family recipe. She's the sole owner since she’s the only known member of her family still alive.
"Good night," Jamie said, scurrying away.
"Another hottie you pulled out?" Aisely said, dealing some more cards.
"No. just a pet."
"What's with the trouble with you asking out women? You used to be the succubus of females back in the day. Hurry up and ace this one already."
"Mind your own business.”
During our card games, I started to grow sick. I walked into the bathroom to release this body’s waste. After I finished, I stared into the mirror. The mirror dripped water. I checked and the water came from no visible source. Suddenly images of random people flashed on and off in front of me. Objects all around me distorted and bent all over me. I suddenly couldn't breathe and felt intense fear. Clowns appeared, spraying me with acid and confetti. My stomach started to melt, showing all of my insides. Horrible birdlike beings with swords impaled inside their bodies slashed me. Water gushed up from the tub and swirled all around me, flooding the bathroom to my knees. Everything was so dark and distorted,) couldn't fight back.
I then saw the lovely Helena, strolling happily with her boyfriend. Helena's body got pale white. Blood started coming out of her eyes and her head started to swell up. That long, exquisite hair tangled up every part of my body. It felt as if I were drowning. Helena then called my name repeatedly: "Aurick, are you okay? Aurick! Aurick!"
"Aurick, Aurick, you dead in there?" Aisely said, shouting from the living room. I found myself back in the bathroom, still staring into the mirror. It was only a hallucination. I vomited into the sink chunks of food I had eaten earlier. "That's gross, dude; sick."
I was experiencing another side effect of possessing a human for this long. When a demon synchronizes with a human for a long time, both beings’ minds fight for dominance over the body. The beginning effects are hallucinations, vomiting, and mild heart attacks. If a fallen doesn't l eave the body, things get much worse? This side effect keeps fallen from mass- possessing mankind worldwide at the same time. If I were a weaker spirit being, I would've been totally mad by now. I was considering complying with Aisely's advice about leaving the body, but I knew I wanted to stay for a while longer.
Aisely and I sat down at a table and started playing Go Fish. "What have you been doing with yourself for the past three years?" I said, dealing the cards.
"Glad you asked. I've been trying to find a way out."
"A way out? We all know that there’s no way out." "You've heard the news reports lately?"
"I don't watch television much."
''I've been protecting people, Aurick. I must've saved thirty human lives already. The news reports say that an invisible force has been looking after the city."
"That doesn't matter, Aisely. Once an angel loses favor with Grandfather, there's no going back. We can never receive redemption."
"I don't believe that bull crap. I don't believe there’s anything in this universe that can't change. Not even Dad.''
"Yeah, right! You know once Father says something, it has to stick, no matter what."
"There has to be a way. We all know that Papa obsessively believes that everything in existence has to be paid for equally and justly. Maybe if we pay for our crimes equally with good deeds before the execution, we can go home again. Maybe we can be more than equal. Contemplating want you to help me. We can both be saved.''
"That's a waste of time, Aisely. Just be brave and embrace your eventual death. It was our fault for opposing a force greater than us. Now shut up and play."
I beat him thirty times straight without losing. I got bored and played with Sephirot instead. My lean feline had become a fat pig. He was so out of shape that he couldn't even jump For the string I was dangling. He used to play this game for hours. This is the destiny of all. Once you have all that you need, you simply stop moving. Once you gain everything, you lose everything. At least he keeps a nice coat of fur.
"Okay, let’s make a deal," Aisely said. "Let's play a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. If you win, I’ll run two laps around the sun. If I win, you have to help me protect this city. Almost like superheroes."
At first I refused, but Aisely pestered me for hours, which forced me to agree. He could be very annoying. It was best two out of three. I won the first round and he won the second. We used both our abilities to form physical rock, paper, and scissors. It was down to the final round. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot," we both called out. I chose rock. He chooses scissors.
"Goddamn it!" Aisely said, slamming the table, breaking it in half. He opened the window and went on the fire escape.
"Well, a deal is a deal."
Aisely walked on air and eventually was out of sight. Good riddance.
I spent the next few days reading headlines in newspapers on the "invisible helpers" of Manhattan that Aisely was speaking about. While I was sitting on the ledge of the Empire State Building, l read an article by my client Helena Way about the "weird" overflow of miracles lately in New York City. In one incident some maniac threw her baby out a ten-floor window, but the child miraculously was caught by a tree. The article criticized the ignorance of people who believed that God and his angels were watching over the city. The article said the incidents were just because of luck. I wondered if saving lives was a good idea. It seemed good and all on the outside, but it logically seemed pointless to me.
Two days later, Helena was strolling through Central Park.
I’d planned to bump into her. She sat down on a bench and enjoyed the view of a big water fountain. As was walking in her direction to commence my plan, she got up and rushed to a man and embraced him. It was her boyfriend from the other night. I stamped my foot repeatedly in anger until a young boy holding an ice cream cone came over to my side.
"Are you okay, mister?" the boy said. I stood up and fixed my jacket. I used air pressure to splatter ice cream on the young lad’s face, which caused him to cry like a wimp. I followed the couple around the park. Mr. Perfect told Helena jokes and stories, which she enjoyed. Their laughter made me sick.
They went boating in the pond. I considered sinking the boat to kill the guy, but I didn't want to kill Helena. W h en they were done, he bought her cotton candy. She smeared some of it on his nose and mouth. They laughed and played some more. I n a fit of rage, I struck a man's bike while he was riding it down a hill , causing him to flip over into the pond. This backfired because Helena's boyfriend dived into the pond and pulled the man out. Mr. Perfect then took his shirt off, showing off his wet, glistening body, which excited all the ladies nearby. What a show-off. The biker thanked him and rode away. While Mr. Perfect was drying off, Helena caught sight of me. I pretended to be surprised to see her, but at the same time cool.
"Hi. It's nice seeing you here, Dr. Pantera."
"It’s nice to see you here too, Ms. Way. And, please, call me Au rick."
"And please call me Helena.''
Mr. Perfect finished drying off and came over to us. "Is this one of your friends, Helena?" he said, stroking back his hair, causing drops of water and hair gel to splash on my face. Some of the water got into my eyes, which burned. I didn’t want to cause a scene so I withstood it.
"This is my psychologist, Dr. Aurick Pantera," Helena said.
"Oh, so you're her shrink? I’m going to need one too after dealing with this young lady," he said, grabbing Helena's waist.
"Oh, so this is the boyfriend you were speaking of?"
"Yes, this is Derek. I've been dating him for a few months now."
"It’s only been a few months now but I feel like I’ve known her for a lifetime." Helena's cheeks turned red.
"Let me get that cotton candy off your lips." He licked the blue candy off her lips, then started kissing her. I was uncomfortable and wanted To get away, I was forced to watch them drink each other's saliva.
"Well, it’s time for me to take the old dusty road. I've got some psychos to treat."
"Oh, that's a shame. Can't you chat a bit?"
"No, no, Helena. We wouldn’t want to stop the man from doing what he loves to do, especially when it involves helping people. I know I wouldn't like it if someone was keeping me from volunteer work at the homeless shelter."
No one asked you, I thought to myself. I didn’t understand why Helena couldn't see past this 'Derek'... phoniness. His phony lines and his phony lifestyle. Phony from head to toe. Phony from the lungs to the lips.
"
Well, I hope that the rest of your date goes well. Good-bye." Derek held his hand out to me. I didn't want to seem like a jerk in front of Helena so I forced myself to shake it.
"Good-bye, Aurick. I'll pray for you," Helena said.
I stormed out of the park angry. How could a mere human deny me what I wanted? I’m a spirit being for Christ’s sake! I decided to buy a newspaper and get some fresh air on top of the Empire State Building. While I was reading the newspaper, Aisely popped out of nowhere javascript:void(0)and phased his head through the paper, which startled me and caused me to fall off the ledge. Aisely caught me and helped me to safety.
"Damn it, Aisely!" This falling-off-the-ledge business was getting tiresome. "You almost killed my host. You know what would happen if that were to occur, right?" He wasn’t taking my words seriously . . . as always.
"You couldn't have finished those laps around the sun this quickly."
"Are you kidding me? I always run around it in my spare time."
"Well, what do you want?" Aisely gave me pictures. "What is this, Aisely?"
"Just shut up and look." They were pictures of various women with Helena’s boyfriend in a bed. “I took these last night."
"So Helena’s boyfriend isn’t such a perfect boyfriend after all."
''Oh, no, you're wrong. He is the perfect boyfriend. In fact, a fair fight over Helena or any other woman would result in him winning."
"Well, apparently he’s not so good if he did this. Unless you did something that I hope you didn't." Aisely turned away from me. "Well, did you do anything you weren’t supposed to, Aisely?"
"I followed him around and couldn't find any flaws so I possessed him and rounded up some women and hid a camera in his bedroom."
"You what?"
"What? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? I want something legit. This is injustice! Why would you do such a thing? You're a stalker, you know that?"
"I wasn't stalking. I was just merely gathering evidence for you to use against that Mr. Goody Two-Shoes over there to score Helena; that's all. Now all you have to do is show her these and land her. I'll let you have the pictures if you help me with my cause."
"I told you before; I’m not helping you with such a redundant task. Meddling with other people's lives won’t make me help you. Go ask someone else."
"Oh, come on; just think about it, Aurick. Look at yourself. You've sunk yourself into a low point. Watching how people live their lives and then living a human life and sneaking around after some human girl like a child. You've lost your pride, man. You've lost hope for the future. You try to cover it up, but I see that you've lost your pride. We can beat this thing, I know we can. You just need hope. We need hope. Our entire kind needs hope. Just think about it. I'll be back to get your final response." Aisely left me on the roof alone, stunned with the language he'd used against me. How dare he speak to me in such a manner?! I sat there, staring at the pictures, contemplating what to do next. I hated Derek. But I also hated using such unfair tactics, especially against a human. It’s like bullying a child.
I went home and burned the pictures over the stove. I fed Sephirot and went to bed.
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