The commute from the bookstore to home was not long, but it wiped Kismet out even still. She chewed the soggy and torn ends of her sweater cuffs as she reached her apartment building. It was a former warehouse, shaped like a plain brick square. The windows on the upper floors housing the apartments were small and narrow. The art gallery on the bottom floor had windows that spanned floor to ceiling, granting a glimpse of the alternating exhibits within.
Sometimes when Kismet was in a better mood, she liked to go and see what was on display. The best pieces hummed with lingering intent and passion with subtle notes of brewing emotions; anything from betrayal to lust. It formed an energetic fingerprint; something left behind by the creator that was unique to each piece.
At times, she and Kevin would wander the exhibits together, and he’d point out pieces he’d recognise from magazine articles. He’d talk for ages about each one. She’d soak up the brilliant green of enthusiasm bursting through his aura.
In this state of mind, it was best to avoid it all together and dash directly to the loft. All she wanted was to hole up in bed under the covers until she could muster up the strength to think straight again. Kismet twisted a strand of curly brown hair with her right index finger and nibbled on her left sleeve. She trudged up the iron staircase.
Nearly to the top, her CD player stopped. Thoughts sucked into her mind through the silence like a vacuum. A cacophonous roar ripped into her skill. She fumbled for a second then clicked play. The solace of heavy riffs began again.
Finally at her apartment, Kismet twisted the heavy iron knob, glad it was unlocked so she didn't have to fumble with the keys. She clicked off her CD player and placed it on the kitchen counter next to a pile of unopened bills and credit card statements. Her gut lurched and she looked away.
We gotta get the spending under control, but I can’t bare to look at it. I don’t have the energy for this.
The pendulum lights were on, illuminating the industrial style space. The black metal contrasted against the russet masonry. Fully open concept, even their bedroom was in the same room, separated from the living-room side by a long partition.
"You're home," Kevin said from the sofa.
"I'm going to bed," she said, hurrying to cross the room.
“Stay up a little while longer? I haven't seen you all day," he said and looked around at her. His hard blue eyes spoke over his otherwise soft tone. "It's only six o'clock. You haven't even cooked dinner yet."
"I shouldn't. My head is - I'm having one of those days," she said, in a light, airy way, almost laughing at herself. This was utterly embarrassing. The alternative was to completely fall apart..
He actually asked for once.
"Maybe watching a show or something will help?”
“Ok, I'll stay up for an episode."
"There," he said with a grin. The smile softened the hard edges of his face.
Kevin sat up and scooched over to make room for her, but she sat at the other end of the sofa. She pulled her legs up and scrunched.
"Ok, pick something," Kismet said. It needed to be quick. She didn't want to scour the cable-guide channel forever.
He groaned in exasperation. "Why do you have to be like this?"
She blinked, surprised. Satin curtains of mud-purple disdain wafted from his body. It drifted toward the ceiling like fading smoke.
"Well!" he snapped. "Don't just stare at me. I hate when you look at me like that."
"Like what?" Genuinely confused, she looked away, unsure of what to do with her face or her body anymore.
How can I arrange myself to make it better? To disappear?
"Maybe I should go to bed if I'm bothering you."
"No, I want you to stay. We never spend any time together," he grumbled and moved closer. They didn't physically touch, but the pressure of his presence pushed in. Even seated, he loomed over her. “I thought you’d be over this by now.”
Reflexively, Kismet leaned closer to the arm of the sofa.
"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about.” Red fireworks sparked through his churning maroon aura. "Can't you be normal? All I want to do is hold my girlfriend. I’ve tried everything. I don’t know what else to do with you."
All at once, a tidal-bore of thoughts rushed Kismet’s mind. Awareness of her body became a distant note, unable to even feel the couch beneath her. The voices of her neighbors spanning a block over flooded in, deafening her into an unintelligible swarm. Their hopes, fears, desire and pain all became hers. Untangling herself from them all was near impossible.
Kevin's muffled speech escalated, growing louder and more urgent, but she still couldn't understand. There was no way to make sense of what he was saying through the crushing waves of voices dragging her under.
She sat frozen, screaming within her own mind to simply say something. Do something. Instead, the pain, joy, fear and ecstasy of the city consumed her.
A sharp slap to the cheek brought her living room to stunning clarity. Kevin towered over her, but the previous anger and annoyance written across his face was replaced with concern.
"I had to do it, you were totally catatonic,” he explained. “What the hell was -"
You didn’t need to. Is it too much to ask for someone to just sit beside me?
Nausea overwhelmed Kismet and she burst from the couch, running for the bathroom. Her whole body shook. A chill settled into her bones like she'd never be warm again. Kevin stood in the doorway as she vomited in the toilet.
"I think we should go to the hospital.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Something is seriously wrong with you."
Kismet plopped on the cold tile floor.
"I'm fine," she said and forced herself onto wobbling legs. Numb. She couldn't stand being in her own skin. "I just need to go to bed."
He blocked the door, arms folded across his chest.
“Please, I’m so tired…”
“What the hell is going on with you? What’s with these episodes?”
“I told you -”
“A mysterious illness?” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Are you sure it’s not all in your head? Some attention seeking -”
Heat flared in the base of her gut, boiling the blood to vapor in her veins. The skin on her cheek still buzzed.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Attention seeking?” she screamed. “All I do is make myself invisible, why on earth would I do this to myself? I’d do anything just to curl up and vanish, let alone be looked at like some kind of freak.”
Kevin’s eyes widened, staggering back a step.
Why can’t you understand?
“I never said you were -”
“You don’t need to,” she snapped, fists curling at her sides. “I can feel it. If you’re so sick of me then you won’t mind if I go.”
She took another step forward, but he stood firm, blocking her way. The light from the kitchen bright at his back, casting him into a silhouette.
“Kismet -” his voice softened.
“You don’t want me.”
For all of my trying, it hasn’t mattered an ounce. Why won’t you let me leave? I don’t belong here.
“Just let me go,” she sobbed. “I ruin everything.”
Kevin braced his hands against the door frame, sealing the gaps. “You’re all I’ve got. Who would take care of you? What if you collapse in the street? A car will run you right over. You don’t even have any money.”
Because you take all of it.
She grit her teeth.
“Where would you even go?”
“The island,” she said before she could stop herself. “You said so yourself yesterday. That’s where we should all go. I’m doing you a favor.”
He gasped, eyes widening, then his brow furrowed. “You’re bluffing. I’d have known if you were one of them.”
Kismet couldn’t help it and laughed, exhausted and on the verge of tears.
“You’re just dumb enough to think you’re the smartest person in the room. You can’t fathom I'd have a mind outside of you.”
“What’s your power then? Hmm?”
“Guess it.”
Something in Kismet’s tone made Kevin take pause, but he refused to give any ground. “Alright then. Use your power to make me move. Then you’ll be more than welcome to leave.”
You’re such a fucking asshole.
Tension squeazed her core into a vice. Unable to take a full breath. She closed her eyes. A fat tear rolled down her cheek, so hot it almost burned. Her heart hardened.
“Alright.”
First there was darkness, then the world erupted into a kaleidoscope of neon colour, painting over the previous dim cast to the bathroom interior. Kevin took on a solid maroon shape, still filling the doorway. Words transformed into burbles - like her head was somewhere deep underwater. Blood whoosed in her ears.
In legends, all thresholds have guardians to defeat. I have to be brave.
Her mind reached for his. She slipped inside with an ease akin to exhaling. The release from holding back was a relief. Kismet scoured for something to sink her teeth into, something to curdle his blood, something to make him move.
Everyone has something.
After rifling through vignettes of memories, minor indiscretions and twists of shame, she finally found it.
He sat in his work cubicle, fiddling with sticky notes and grinding his teeth. Track programs and race results sheets heaped in the corner next to the ashtray. He’d missed another deadline. Harold was bound to come barreling in, demanding an explanation.
Then he was chatting with Jane in the breakroom. The woman smiled, tilting her head and tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. A delicate hand touched Kevin's as she giggled. Kismet felt the stirring inside of him.
Kevin and Jane squashed into the supply closet.
Kismet wanted to scream, but her voice was trapped. This was not her body.
He pressed Jane against the shelves. Their mouths were all over each other. Through Kevin, she tasted the salt on the other woman's skin, the scrape of her teeth against the soft flesh of his throat. Kevin inhaled the faint scent of her lingering perfume. Mango, or maybe passion fruit. Jane’s body was familiar beneath his hands.
Lust over shadowed the sting of betrayal, dulling the pain at the base of desire. She became only an echo against the onslaught of feral longing.
With a churning stomach and shaking hands, Kismet thrust herself back to reality. The white, hot, heat of betrayal roared to the surface.
“I really wish you hadn’t made me do that,” she whispered.
“Do What?” Now his eyes had taken on a cautious quality. He was on the cusp of believing her. Burgundy ribbons of fear coiled around him.
Did I mean anything to you at all? Being with me can’t be easy, I know that.
“Jane,” she said.
Kevin paled, then tried to neutralise his expression. Too late. A flare of magenta anxiety and plumb deception already pulsed through his aura.
“What about her?”
“You two meet up in the supply closet every lunch break since you started this job,” she said, her voice hollow. “Don’t try to deny it. I can still taste her perfume. Mango, passion fruit, something like that. Now, please, will you move?”
“You’ve been a telepath all this time?” Kevin spat, face turning crimson. “Your abilities could have made us richer than our wildest dreams, and you’ve let us be broke. The way I’ve toiled -”
“I won’t use them,” she exclaimed “Just let me go!”
“You think you can walk away and leave me high and dry?” Kevin stalked toward her. “No. Not a chance. You and I are gonna cook up some way to sell your powers.”
He’ll never let me leave now.
“Fine,” she sighed.
“There, that wasn’t so hard,” Kevin smiled. Finally, he stepped to the side. She could see the kitchen and the front door just beyond him. “It’ll be like it was before. You’ll see. We can be happy again.”
As if on autopilot, Kismet steeled herself to walk past him, stepping out of the bathroom. He brushed the back of her hair as she moved. It was meant to be a gesture of comfort that only left her cold and empty.
Kismet didn't respond. All of her energy was used to drag herself from the kitchen to the bed across the apartment. She flopped onto the mattress fully clothed and crawled under the duvet. Closing her eyes, she didn't sleep. The images she’d gleaned from Kevin’s mind came in flashes and flickers through the darkness.
Kevin stood at the bedside, trying to formulate a plan, but she could not hear a word he said. All of his words melded together into a jumble. The less she responded, the more frustrated he became, but she could not bring herself to speak.
There’s nothing left to say.
Eventually, he stomped away to slump on the sofa, the television blasting.
How does he plan to hold me here?
Unbidden, flashes from Kevin’s mind flared behind her eyes. He didn’t even know. Never in a million years had he suspected her to be a mutant, let alone gather the nerve to try and leave.
...She can’t leave. Where would she go? Even if she tried to get to the island, she’d turn right around and come back. There’s no one there for her. She needs me. I hope it doesn’t come down to force but if that’s what it takes…
Kismet clenched her jaw. Her hands curled around the sheets, clutching them in a bundle.
I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone. He can try to keep me here, but even if he does, he’ll never be able to make me use my abilities. I’ll never tell him the truth.
The night moved on. Her heartbeat pounded under her temples, sloshing blood in her ears. The voices murmured like waves on the shore. She busied herself mind hopping, sliding from one life to another. Anywhere but here.
A mother tucked in a young son with a soft kiss to the forehead, a man brought his boyfriend flowers, a woman fed racoons on her porch, a boy had his first kiss at the park around the block and a girl saw a shooting star, clutching her best friend’s hand with eyes full of wonder.
Kismet latched on to all the good in the world until the bed shifted, Kevin crawling in beside her. She waited. Soon his mind turned into dreams.
Anxiety pinned Kismet in place.
I can’t leave. I can’t live like that again.
Bile rose in her mouth.
Stealing herself, Kismet slipped out of bed, and padded into the kitchen to grab her CD player from the counter. Whispers swarmed, distracting as she tried to creep across the apartment. Kevin stirred. She paused, capturing her next breath in her throat. The mattress creaked as he turned and snorted. She continued, scooping up her CD player and headed for the bathroom.
The window to the fire-escape was narrow. She pushed it open, wincing as the old wood pane grinded against the frame. Ancient paint chips scraped and pealed away, flaking on to the top of the toilet tank.
Ok, ok, I can do this.
Kismet hopped up onto the top of the toilet and hoisted herself through the window. Her bare feet jerked away from the cold grated metal.
Oh, fuck I don’t have shoes.
She peaked over her shoulder at the bathroom below, then turned away to see the city lights sprawled before her. An aurora of colours evaporated upward into the night sky. A cold wind whipped her curls around her shoulders. Her hands trembled and she slid all the way out. The metal chilled her feet, but there was no going back.