Gina Miller let out a tired breath as she sat at a bar with a drink of whisky in her right hand, cheek propped against her left palm. Things just seemed to go wrong for her.
When she first became a teacher, Gina was apprehensive but a little hopeful that it would go well besides feeling like she shouldn’t. But was then told she needed to teach kids who were under the sixth grade. That wasn’t something she wanted, she had hoped to teach those who were at least seven grade or higher, minds that could think for themselves, but so many of the kids in her class were nothing but a bunch of rowdy kids who wouldn’t listen to her.
Except for one, Amalie Hilmarsson.
She was smart. Probably smarter than all the other kids in the class, hell even the whole grade. But that girl was quiet, never speaking out, or being rude or loud.
Amalie was one of her best, if not the best, in her class. Yet…
There was something about her, that bugged Gina. The way she looked at her, with those grey-silver eyes of hers in a knowing stare. Like she knew something was going on behind the scenes at school. That was the kind of stare she gave without so much as uttering a word.
It unnerved Gina.
Made her feel like this little girl thought she was better than anyone, even the teachers.
At least that’s what Gina felt, given how the girl’s father seemed to look at Gina with such a tight smile like he was disgusted with the staff. It made Gina think that his daughter was the same. It was petty and stupid, but she felt like that girl should be knocked down a peg for thinking so high and mighty.
Only for it all to blow up in the worst way possible when Amalie suddenly reacted the way she had towards Mia and her friends. Gina only came to the classroom towards the end, when several of the children tried to pull Mia, a few of her friends and Amalie apart, but did little good to help, if anything it made it all the worse. The look on Amalie’s face, when their eyes met, was chilling, to say the least.
Never in her life did Gina ever feel like she would be afraid of a seven-year-old girl until that very day.
And the girl’s father…
While Alastor Hilmarsson was beautiful in his own right, more so than any man or woman Gina had ever met, there was a cold air to him when their eyes met. Normally, his smile would be filled with charm, instead, it was a cold knowing smile.
Gina secretly hoped to never meet that man out of school, if his daughter was anything to go by, goodness knows what he would do if angered. If he wasn’t already.
Then again, Nick seemed just as agitated later that day after speaking with the principal. Recently, he seemed more and more annoyed. She couldn’t figure out why, she tried to get him to open up to her about it, thinking maybe she could help only for him to snap at her.
She had never seen him that angry before.
It scared her.
Gina had always seen him as a strong caring person, yeah, he was flirtatious, and a bit aggressive when he came on to her but she liked that in a man, but she had a thing for muscular men to boot so he ticked a good number of her boxes. It didn’t mean she was romantically in love, but that didn’t make what she felt any less valid. Still, she did get a lot of shit for it as she grew up when she realized that she was like that, especially from her parents.
Always bitching about when she was going to get married and have kids because they wanted grandbabies, well too fucking bad she didn’t want kids! Hell, she didn’t even like them, well, not hate them at least but she always felt indifferent about them.
Now feeling agitated on her own, she polished off her glass before ordering another from the bartender, while waiting Gina decided to let her eyes wander a bit, see who was there, and silently judge them if they were cute to fuckable. A lewd hobby, but one she would never outright tell anyone, plus, she just liked to watch people and think what they might be up to in their lives if she became bored.
That was until her eyes landed on a person who was sitting one stool away from her at the bar. Someone that Gina recognized.
She’s back again. Gina thought as she glanced at a woman sitting a little further away at the bar, with a single martini glass, dressed in a long-sleeved cream-white turtleneck, a long burgundy pleated red skirt and a black shawl with a pattern that made her think of a bohemian style. She sat like a ballerina would with her back straight as a ruler, and had the figure of one too, though the woman had a larger bust than Gina’s she was still beautiful. And her hair’s down this time. The last time the woman was here, she had put her long earth-brown hair into a braid and left it hanging off her shoulder. Now that it left down and stopped just at her waist as she continued to silently read a black leather-bound book, turning the page with long elegant fingers that belonged to a pianist. She looks like a doll.
For the past two months, Gina has seen the same woman time and time again, sitting in the same place, reading a book. She always felt drawn in, seeing the woman read, in a bar of all places, with long eyelashes that gently brushed pale cheeks. The woman seemed to barely wear any makeup too. How could a woman be so pretty with little to no makeup? How was that fair?
What God did she have to sacrifice to in order to be that pretty?
The woman, as if hearing Gina’s thoughts, glanced at her with piercing sky-blue eyes. Gina froze when their eyes met, she quickly looked away.
That scared me! Gina thought as she looked away, pretending to take a sip of her drink.
“You’re here quite a bit,” the woman spoke, drawing Gina’s attention, the woman was now looking at her with a faint smile. Gina had never seen her smile before, so seeing just the most modest of smiles on the woman’s face was a surprise. “Your work must be rather hectic.”
Gina gave a nervous laugh. “It can be at times, though it’s not always that bad.”
“Really?” the way the woman spoke was soft, elegant like she was a noble from a distant land. Hell, she might be given how she looked. “What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh, it’s nothing special, I’m just a teacher.”
“You say that, but it’s a very admirable profession.” The woman stated. “Teaching the next generation to become better than the last is something I feel many should strive for. How old are the children you’re teaching?”
“Ah, about six to eight years old. Though I was supposed to teach older kids. At least seventh grade and up.” But all positions were full and Gina had no choice but to take on a role she felt like she wasn’t suited for at all. “Though if I’m honest… I never wanted to be a teacher.”
“Really?”
Gina nodded before taking a sip of her drink. She was already a few drinks in and the woman seemed interested, so why not? She wanted to vent to someone anyway. “I had a passion for art, that was something I was always good at, but my parents always said it wouldn’t be a real job, that I should think of the next generation, and what they could do for us as they get older.”
“Are both of your parents politicians?”
Gina looked at the woman. “They are. I always resented them for it, them and my asshole of a brother. Just because he’s a man my parents think he’s gods gift to the world.” Gina laughed. “But he’s a wimp and a coward, ran away to England the moment he could and left me to deal with the fallout. My parents always push me to do what I don’t want.” She took another drink. “Sorry, I shouldn’t drag you into my problems. I just had a really bad day today.”
“You’re only human, we all have days where things just don’t go the way we feel they should.”
Gina didn’t answer, instead, she asked. “What do you do?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, are you a dancer or an actress?”
The woman gave a soft laugh followed by a hinting smile. You think I’m an actress? That’s flattering of you, but I’m not.” She picked up her martini glass and stared into the liquid with a faraway gaze as she swirled it in the delicate glassware. “I’m an art dealer, I buy and sell artwork, things like paintings, pottery, certain objects, collections someone wishes to move on for a vast number of reasons. I find the prospect of handling and dealing with artwork, whatever it may be, a grand endeavour. The satisfaction I get when I’ve accomplished my job is something that I will never get old from.”
Lucky you, Gina thought begrudgingly, with a hint of envy. How she wished to have this woman’s life. Though it did explain a few things, how she spoke, held herself, and even dressed meant she must have had some high-end clients.
“So, you travel then?”
“When the client requests it, yes. I don’t often get the chance to be home, but when I do I relish in it, even if it is for a short time.”
“Where’d you come from?”
“Pardon?”
“The last place you went to,” Gina clarified. “You said you travel; I take it you do some out of the country.”
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The woman took a sip. “France,” she said. “I was in France until recently, or more accurately, Paris. Have you ever been?”
Gina gave a short curt laugh. “Ha! I wish! I don’t have the time or money to travel. Though if I did…” she mused. “I’d probably go to Newfoundland.”
“Really? Why there?”
“It’s beautiful, the place doesn’t have a lot of people, at least in comparison to Toronto, and the landscapes are just so breathtaking regardless of the year.”
“Well, if you like it there so much, why not go? Or do you think your family would want you to stay?”
Gina let out an exasperated breath, her face was feeling a bit warm, but she didn’t want to go home, not yet, especially if it meant coming home to a slew of angry voicemails from parents, or worse, her parents demanding to know why she hasn’t found a rich man.
“…they just think I’m some bloody baby maker…” she muttered.
“Hmm? Did you say something?”
Shit, I said that out loud! She thought after flinching at the woman’s question. “Uh… well, they keep pushing me and pushing me to find a rich man to have kids with…”
“Oh? Why don’t you just ignore them?”
She looked at the woman with a dry stare. “Do you have any idea what it’s like having political narcissistic parents?” Gina said that last bit with a heavy emphasis before taking a big gulp, the booze leaving a satisfying burn in her throat. “They don’t know the meaning of ‘no’ no matter what I do! Hell, they even suggested I should try and go after one of my student’s parents who are single.”
“Who would that be?”
She took another drink. “Alastor Hilmarsson,”
“The Radio Host?”
“The one and only!” Gina proclaimed as she lifted her glass in the air before quickly lowering her arm before anyone around them noticed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s attractive, really attractive. In my opinion, Alastor is probably the most attractive person in all of Toronto, if not all of the Ontario Provence! But he has a kid, and I, personally, am not the biggest fan of children. In moderation, yes, but all the time is a biiiiig no. And because of this, I have no intention of even so much as impeding on that.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Well, for me it is, but for my parents, they think it’s fine, after all, they see her as a girl with superior breeding as they put it, ugh.”
“Really?” the woman said, her blue eyes peering at her drink but not taking a sip. “They must think very highly of that little girl.”
“Appearance-wise, yes. My parents think if she turned out well then I could do even better with the next kid. Which is ridiculous to me, the man isn’t interested, as far as I could tell but my parents still want to try anyway despite my protests.”
“Isn’t he widowed?”
“Yes! But they don’t care! That wedding band on his ring finger might as well be invisible to my parent’s eyes. “Oh, a dead spouse? That must mean he’s single and ready to mingle!” I swear they are just blinded by their idiocy.” She said the last bit as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. “As long as he’s rich and good looking they don’t care. And I bet anything that if said handsome rich dude committed a murder, they’d help cover it up if it meant they could get their hands on his money.”
“It must have been difficult having parents like that, but why not speak to Mr. Hilmarsson? Surely, he’d be willing to hear you out if you did.”
Gina sighed. “I wanted to, but it’s kind of hard to bring up something so out of the blue like that and ask “Hey, my parents want us to date, tell them no!” you know? Plus…”
The woman glanced at Gina when she trailed off. “Did something happen?”
“I messed up,” Gina admitted. “I should have done something, but… I just let it happen. I don’t have much of an excuse, even if I did it shouldn’t even be accepted either.” She took another drink, her glass now empty as she stared at her faint reflection in the glasswork. “His daughter, Amalie, was being bullied, it was small at first, but it all just became a powder keg waiting to blow. I didn’t see it happen, but it was like something snapped in that little girl. And for a brief moment, she terrified me. She looked at me with such an accusing stare… and I deserve it. I shouldn’t be a teacher; I should have done what my brother did and just ran away from it all. But I couldn’t. I’ve been beaten down so much, the invisible shackles that my parents put on me never broke off… and I internalized my pain and allowed what happened to Amalie to happen because some stupid, selfish, twisted part of me thought it was deserved. Though the other reason was that I had hoped Alastor would just take her out of school and my parents would finally leave me alone. He never did. And now, I wouldn’t even be surprised if I’m fired because of it all. Thrown under the bus as a convenient scapegoat, even though I wasn’t the only teacher who let it happen. Several others did, even the principal.”
“You almost sound like you want it to happen.”
Gina was silent for a moment, eyes darting in contemplation before. “Maybe I do,” she admitted. “Because then, if it did happen, maybe I could be free?” realization came into her eyes pushing past the alcohol that had been muddling her mind. “Oh, I’m sorry! I kept going on like that for so long, I shouldn’t be dragging you into my problems.”
“No, it’s fine, you’re dealing with a lot, and though you are right in that you shouldn’t have let the bullying happen, I can see why you’d be pushed to such an extreme. It must be hard.”
“I know it could be worse, I’m privileged enough to be where I am, but not at all happy.” She sighed as she ran a hand over her face pushing her glasses up to the top of her head. “I don’t know what to do.”
It looked like the woman was going to say something but was cut short when she noticed someone approaching.
“Heeeey, biiiiiiitch!” a woman called out before wrapping an arm around Gina’s shoulders. “The hell are you doin’ up so late? Don’t teachers have curfews or some shit?”
“Layla!” Gina spoke with surprise before turning on her stool to face her. “Oh my god, where have you been, I haven’t seen you for years! You up and disappeared without a trace! Where did you go?”
Layla wagged her eyebrows. “What? You thought I was dead?”
Gina lightly smacked Layla’s arm. “Don’t say that.” She then sobered up quite a bit as she looked over at her old friend. Her hair was in a short bob of a light mint blue as she wore a cropped long-sleeved black shirt and a long grey plaid skirt that was cut open and held with a belt to reveal black shorts underneath and black fishnets and thick black boots. This was how she normally dressed, no matter the weather, but something seemed off. “Did you get thinner?”
“I lost a bit of weight, but I think it’s fine. Why? Do I look that different?”
Gina wasn’t sure, she looked the same as she had a few years ago, but still, something seemed different about her, Gina wasn’t sure what it was yet that nagging feeling remained.
She then noticed the other woman watching them silently.
“Oh, this is my friend, we went to college together,” Gina said to her.
Layla laughed. “Ha, only eons ago, sooner or later we’ll be some old fossils bookin’ it on scooters.” Then her dark eyes went to the woman, and, something changed…
Layla’s smile froze like she was surprised but that was only a moment, still, it was kind of odd and made Gina wonder.
“Do you both know each other?” Gina asked noticing how the woman merely took another sip of her drink while Layla spoke up.
“What? No, not really, I mean, I might have seen her about once, other than that, we don’t know each other.” Layla looked at the woman. “Isn’t that right?”
Without even a moment to pause the other woman smiled. “Yes. I’ve seen her, and her vast variety of different hair colours a few times before while on the street, but other than that, nothing that would spark a conversation.”
“Oh, well, this is a good friend of mine,” Gina tells the woman.
“Layla Katz,” she said to the other woman. “Though you can just call me Lilith, everyone else does.”
“But that’s your stage name,” Gina interjected.
Layla shrugged. “Eh, it might as well be my actual name. Since it’s what most people know me as.”
“You perform on a stage?”
“In a sense, it’s in BDSM clubs scattered across Toronto, though I also work at a dive bar if I’m strapped for cash.”
“Interesting,” then the sound of something chimed, the woman pulled back the sleeve on her wrist to look at a wristwatch that seemed to be made with brass that gleamed in the dull light as the watch strap was a burgundy red leather. Seemed old, and expensive. “I would like to stay longer and talk some more, but I need to head home. It’s getting late enough as it is, and I’m expecting a call in the morning from a client.” The woman then flagged down the bartender and paid for her drink before looking back at Gina with a smile. “It was wonderful meeting you; I hope things get better in the coming day. Have a good rest of the night.” And with that left the bar, leaving Gina where she was in her seat as Layla watched the woman leave until the woman was completely out of sight.
“So, how long have you been here?” Layla asked drawing Gina’s attention.
“Huh?”
Layla indicated the three empty glasses. “How many of those did you drink?”
Gina looked at it. “Uh… six? I… think?”
“And I think with that response you should go home.”
“Ugh, I don’t wanna…”
“Neither do ninety percent of those here, but the day is going to start whether you like it or not. And I don’t think you want a hangover the following day with a bunch of little rowdy kids to teach.”
Gina groaned in response but complied when seeing Layla’s no-nonsense expression, the kind that meant if Gina didn’t stop self-sabotaging herself, her friend would tie her up and drag her back home like she had done before when they were in college.
It was a heck of a time trying to convince the campus security that she was not being kidnapped by some gothic punk weirdo that was clearly in rope play and bondage.
All done safely of course.
“Okay… you win, jeez.” Gina paid the bartender and walked out with Layla in tow, only to frown when Layla kept walking with her. “Don’t you still live in the opposite direction?”
“Yup, but what kind of friend would I be if I just let you walk home, clearly drunk, in the dead of night, in a city with a bunch of assholes ready and willing to try and have some fun with an unwilling drunk woman?”
“I think you mean middle-aged drunk woman, and besides, who’d go after boring old me? I’m plain as hell.”
“Girl, you’re thirty years old, and that ain’t old. It is certainly not considered middle age, at least in this day and age. A couple of decades back we would have been seen as elderly.”
“I think you mean centuries,” Gina said with a laugh but then asked. “Where did you go? You just… disappeared, no calls, texts, not a note, nothing. Did something happen? Is your brother okay?”
Layla was oddly quiet. “Darcy’s doing fine,” she said but was a little ahead of Gina so her face couldn’t be seen. She then looked at Gina and smiled. “I’ve just been busy with a project these past few years, nothing major. So don’t worry about it.”
“Still, next time you decide to pull a vanishing act, at least tell me first. I wanted to make a missing person’s report but the police denied it since I’m not family.”
“Ha, sounds like you dealt with the shitty cops and not the good ones, that’s tough luck of the draw. Good thing I didn’t go missing huh?”
“That’s not funny,” Gina told her flatly.
“I’m kidding G, relax,” Layla said as she pulled Gina in close. “Speaking of vanished, that woman you were talking to was tall. Imagen her in some stilettos, ooo that’d be hot.”
Gina looked at Layla with a slightly confused stare. “I thought you weren’t into women?”
“Hey, just because I’m not, doesn’t mean I can appreciate the fairer sex, like you.” She said with a grin. “If anything, I think you look better than the last time I saw you!”
“Yeah well, I don’t feel like it,” Gina admitted before thinking back to that woman, and then came to a horrible conclusion. “Oh no…”
“What’s up?”
“I forgot.”
“What, you’re wallet? Your phone? Keys? Glasses? Wait no, you’re wearing those.”
She looked at Layla horrified. “I forgot to ask her name.”
Layla looked less than impressed. “Seriously, G, we are getting you to bed.” Then began to pull Gina toward her apartment. “And I doubt you’ll run into that woman again, with how big this city is. You could meet someone one day and never see them again. Like if you saw a ghost or some shit.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”
She gave Gina an arched stare. “I don’t, it’s a metaphor, people aren’t ghosts. And given the state of the world, I think we’ve all had worse things to deal with than anything supernatural. Besides, if ghosts were real, I think we would have been doomed back in college with that stupid Ouija board Fran brought one night.”
“Oh god, I remember Jen broke a mirror that night and blamed Fran for cursing her, it was such a mess.” Gina laughed as they devolved into talking about things from their past from their youth as Layla walked her home, though, in the back of Gina’s mind, she thought of that woman and wondered how likely it would be to even see her again.
I hope I do…