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Eumalia
5: Misunderstandings

5: Misunderstandings

The walk back to the restaurant was uneventful. Despite my ridiculous garb, only casual glances were spared. When in Rome, if you dress like a Roman, you blend in. Or something. I was never the best at ancient idioms.

For the second time, I entered the Lion’s Den.

“Good morrow to you sir!” I waved my cane. “I’d like your finest table.”

The pompous host was silent and studied my outfit.

“Barely passable. Will anyone be joining you today?”

“I am alone.”

It was hard to deliver that line any better without sounding desperate.

“Would you care to rent accompaniment during your meal?”

His tone switched from passive-aggressive to routine.

This restaurant seemed to care about its image. I couldn’t see the other guests from my location, however, I knew he was being honest when he said my outfit was barely passable. If I were someone more important, sitting alone may reflect well, but I’d either look tacky or like a desperate opportunist if I sat alone. Plus, they received more money if I rented accompaniment.

That was what my imagination cooked up at least. With that said, I couldn’t care less about the image of the restaurant.

“A mademoiselle close to my age please.”

Still, I did want to have lunch with a pretty girl.

“This way, sir.”

A lavish dining area. Red velvet chairs. Mahogany wood. Candlelit. The place was warm. And sparsely populated. Fitting for the time of day.

My table was bare apart from silverware, origami napkins, and a candlestick at the center of the table. The candlestick had five buttons engraved on the bottom disk.

From my table, I watched primarily old people having luncheons, men with younger women, and women with younger men. I couldn’t tell if their accompaniment was rented or if the wealthy truly had younger partners. Probably a bit of both.

My people-watching was halted by my own rent-a-girlfriend’s arrival.

“Cash!”

I didn’t think I gave them my name at the reception desk.

She sat across from me. Dark hair, tan skin, and dressed in reds that matched the ambiance.

“Hi?”

“It’s Meryl from architecture.”

Meryl… Wasn’t ringing any bells. I never was observant of other students. Most final classes were exam based, so I never had many group members. Perhaps that’s how I went over three years without making a close friend. Not that it had bothered me.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I didn’t realize you were rich.”

There were a lot of students with prestigious backgrounds and those already dabbling in business. I was not one of them.

“I’m the son of a millionaire.” A very unimpressive line for this city, let alone our school.

“Then how come you used to be a custodian on campus?”

Was it that weird to do it that people noticed? Custodian was one of my many unsuccessful callings I tried out. How do I explain it?

“I get it. No tuition aside, it’s so expensive to live here, and it can be embarrassing showing money problems.”

She misunderstood my silence. I should clarify.

“Ac-”

“That’s why I’m working here, but I don’t want others to know.” She twirled her hair and gave a shy smile. “Can we keep this a secret between us?”

“Sure.”

It wasn’t a blush. It’s just all the warmer lights in this place made my face skin tone look different.

“Thanks!” Another smile. One that didn’t affect me at all by the way. “Oh, what were you trying to say before? Sorry, I cut you off.”

“It’s nothing.”

She was chatty. I didn’t mind. We had an even 80:20 split going on. The topics hovered around architecture, the class, and work. I recently failed that midterm and she let me know of my reputation, but she never pried into any personal questions.

I ordered the first bottle of wine that I knew how to pronounce and looked over the menu. I decided to avoid ordering the daily special of polar bear roast. I don’t know what half of these words mean. Can I just say “steak”?

“How about we take this somewhere else?” She reached out to me.

Woah! Where did this come from? We haven’t even ordered our food yet!

I recoiled back. Her hand didn’t reach for me, though. It landed on the shaft of the candlestick. She had a playful smile, but she was pointing down to the buttons at the base of it.

Was that on purpose?

“Where do you want to go?” Still pointing at the buttons.

“What?”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“You really came here without knowing anything?”

“I just asked the car to take me to a food place in this district. I was too starving to think it over.”

Nothing had changed. It felt like my body was eating itself. I needed nutrients. The wine only partly masked my hunger.

“I’ll show you then.”

She hit the center button. The chairs locked into place, a disc encompassing our chairs and the table descended, and a matching disc replaced the flooring above us.

I couldn’t see much beyond Meryl as the candle was all that lighted our surroundings. After a minute of sliding, ascending, and more sliding, a hole opened above us. A hole soon filled by the disc we were on.

We were in a botanical garden. Large shrubbery adorned with an array of multicolored flowers. It was difficult to see any other tables through the dense foliage. It felt more private.

“Cool.”

“You don’t talk much. You always seemed like the quiet type, but you can react more than that!”

Probably compared to her I was.

“It’s not that. I’ve just taken a lot in recently. It’s my first day in the entertainment district today.”

“It’s your first time here? But you’ve been here for a few years now at least!” She sounded shocked. “Perhaps you’re more straight-laced than I thought. I get it. My first day here…”

She was back to rattling off. It seemed she was making some false impressions of me, but I held off correcting them. Action makes the man. If the glove fits, then what’s my perception of myself to disagree? So, I wasn’t sure if she was right or not. Too much to process lately.

The waiter came by. I let the lady order first. Then, I copied her order. It was easier than figuring out the menu and helped to avoid the polar bear roast. Whatever we ordered, it was so tasty I ordered a second. For dessert, we split some golden sundae. Eating was a challenge given my goldfish shawl had no sleeves. By no means did that fact slow down my pace.

“You were really hungry.” She spooned some ice cream.

“I’m a growing boy.”

“Are you sure you can afford all of this? I didn’t realize custodians were paid so much. This isn’t some last meal or something?”

I laughed. If only this was my last meal over a bowl of Ch**rios. And I laughed. I guess I have my preferences.

“No, nothing like that.” I waved. “If anything, this is my first meal.”

I’ll somehow have to remember this food's name if another chance comes again.

She gave me a questioning look, but I left it there.

“Okay, you just haven't been to class lately, but I’m glad to see you’re doing okay!” She smiled. One that definitely didn’t raise my blood sugar more than the sunday.

How observant is she?

“Are you ready for the check, sir?” The waiter was back.

“Sure.”

[Total: 5,127.16 Eumalian dollars]

Aside from the accept and reject button, a down arrow button was present at the end of the contract text. Some contracts require fleshing out legal details and entailments, so they include the fine print below. In this case, it was only the rest of the receipt.

Accept.

The waiter left two white pills displayed on origami napkins then walked off.

Mints?

“You didn’t sell your organs did you?”

“No.” Almost, but no cigar. “What are those?”

“These?” She picked up a white pill and swallowed it. “Just try it.”

So I did. The slight buzz from the wine faded.

“Fancy.”

“Most people have things to do in the afternoon. Speaking of, I have to head out to architecture class. Are you attending today?”

I wasn’t going to bother passing this semester of courses on account of being dead, but that fell through. At this point of the semester, I would normally turn in enough assignments to barely pass while preparing for next semester. Why break tradition?

“Sure.”

“Great! We can go together.” She grabbed me by the wrist.

On our way out we passed a suited gentleman with black and white striped hair. The amount of time he had to spend in front of a mirror in the morning had to be absurd. And he’s wearing make-up?

Everything from his eyebrows to his watch that cost more than a house screamed he had a mirror on the ceiling above his bed. If he had a scarf, it’d have been apricot. Meryl’s gaze glued to him.

He briefly turned from his meeting and gave her a slight smile, causing her to blush. The pace she dragged me away quickened.

Class was uneventful as it normally was. Meryl and I chatted afterwards while I snacked on vending machine food. Then, we went our separate ways.

It was approaching evening. Like the sun, my eyes were setting. My body’s recovery had pushed it to the point of exhaustion. My only goal was to make it home before I passed out standing up.

I was exiting campus when I saw it. A jaguar was approaching me. It’s spotted coat, wagging tail, large breasts. No, my tired vision was failing me.

“Cash! You’re back.”

It was Candy. A carnivorous beast perhaps more scary than a jaguar in her own way. I didn’t know where to look, and my eyes were too tired to control. It was a moment of weakness.

“Hi, Candy. Another outfit someone paid you to wear?”

“No, I stopped that contract. This is just for fun.” She snapped the strap of her leopard skin bralette.

She was eyeing me. Or perhaps it was my clothes. Had she noticed I was staring? It really wasn’t anything intentional. My eyes were betraying me.

I held myself together enough to at the very least not show my fatigue.

“I think we have different definitions of fun.”

“Why, what do you consider fun?”

“Um. That’s a good question.”

It’s been so long since I’ve tried to have fun. Perhaps reading or-

She interlocked our hands. Suddenly, she was very close.

“There’s no need to be shy.”

I found myself in front of Candy’s dorm room. Interlocking hands turned to interlocking arms. She kept herself pressed against me. Continuing to ogle her after she asked me what I considered fun was unintentionally bold.

She was so close she only needed a whisper to talk to me.

“What do you wanna do now?”

She broke away from me, then a notification appeared.

[Do whatever we want with each other for the night, costs 10,000 Eumalian dollars; wealth rewarded 10,000]

That sobered me up.

Not because of the expense. I mean if you broke it down per hour with how long the night was and Candy’s appearance, it actually wasn’t a bad rate. Include any kink would be allowed, and it was a pretty good deal. The alarm bells rang because it wasn’t an escort contract.

We could do whatever we wanted with each other. I could be paying for my own death. All legal protections were off. It was a two-way street, though. Anything she could do to me, I could do to her. Not that I was dumb enough to have faith in my odds.

She distanced herself to avoid contract influencing laws. Coercion, getting someone intoxicated or high, forms of physical touch, use of powers. There were many influences that may invalidate a contract to the legal system. Unfortunately, being tired was not one of them.

She asked me what I found fun. This was my answer.

Accept.