Chapter Text
June 1923, New York City
It's another hot evening and Mathias is sweating despite having every window in his apartment open. He can hear the neighbors upstairs arguing again -- she's been out too late but he smells like alcohol. A siren wails a few blocks down. He turns on the radio, hoping he can counteract the noise outside with something more pleasurable. There's a new jazz song playing, and he taps his foot to the rhythm as he sits on his couch with a glass of water.
He's lived here for almost three years now, and yet the sounds still feel a little grating in the summer. Maybe it's just the heat; he's never done well in it. Maybe it's all the memories of the war. He leans back, resting his head on the back of the couch. The busyness outside filters into the living room of his apartment and he closes his eyes, momentarily forgetting his water. He soaks it in, letting it wash away his day. It wasn't a particularly stressful day. In fact, it was just another ordinary day.
And that is the problem.
A decent job, a decent apartment, a few decent friends… And it's all perfectly ordinary. He hears laughter, and someone exclaims loudly. The city is coming alive and he just wants to go to bed. Well, that's not entirely true. It's a Friday night and he would love to go out with a friend and drink. But Saturdays are one of the busier days at work. He works in real estate, and he closes the most deals on the weekends and Mondays. He doesn't get to go party on the weekends. Listening to a few songs and the news is all he gets before bed.
Sighing, he sits up a little better so he can take a sip of his water. He thinks back to his day. He meets a lot of interesting people because of his job. There are a lot of eccentric people, a lot of men who want to make their wives happy and so they buy an extravagant apartment in the heart of the city. Sometimes he gets the man who wants to get something to impress, a place to throw parties or bring someone home. He's used to it. He's used to the giggling girls and the proud grins of the men. He doesn't show the places; he just crunches numbers and finalises deals. In his opinion, he has the better job compared to the agents. He gets to meet all the people without all the fuss; they've already found their dream place so they're happy.
A car backfires and he turns to look out the window. His day was average. Everything about his life is average. Except him. And he knows it. But at this point… He's okay with his life this way.
He gets up, flicking off the radio, and pours the rest of the water down the drain. It's definitely time for bed.
A horn honks as the car rounds the corner and someone swears loudly, probably in response. Mathias locks the door to his office before he wanders down the street. He's finished work for the day and he's decided to take his time finding something to eat before he heads home. There's a café he usually goes to across the street but he's feeling stagnant and decides to branch out. He loves the feeling of the city, how busy it is and how no one really notices you because everyone is a little strange and a little busy.
Mathias has unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt so he can roll the sleeves up to his elbows and he throws his suit jacket over his shoulder. Someone bumps into him and they both mumble something close to an apology.
He had wanted to move to the city because it was loud and boisterous -- just like himself. After the war, everyone said to settle. It would be good for him, they all said. Somewhere quiet, somewhere away from too much noise. He had tried that, but the quiet scared him more. So he'd moved to the city instead. He's thirty-six now. It's practical to be settled. Except he still feels restless inside. And maybe that's why he's wandering through the city, looking for something new. There's something in him that wants more from life. The city is begging him to find it.
A woman passes quickly in front of him, causing him to come to an abrupt stop so he won't collide with her. "I'm sorry!" she says and pauses to glance at him. He's startled to realise that it's not a woman at all, though the person before him passes well as one. It's a petite blond man, in a pale green drop-waist dress and a gray cloche hat. His figure fits the dress, but in men's clothes, one would consider him a little heavy.
"Uh, it's fine," Mathias manages, trying not to appear as awkward as he feels. A large part of him is reeling. How dare this person just strut around in public like this? And then there's a small part of him, or maybe it's not so small, that is interested and curious. The other man seems to read him well, grinning at him as he gives him a small wave, a wink, and carries on. He can walk fast, despite being in rather impressive heels. Mathias watches him go for a moment and then he comes to.
No. He's content with his perfectly ordinary, average life. If someone else wants to risk their necks like that, that's on them. He starts walking again, but glances down the street where he'd seen the man disappear to. Where would someone like that be going? He hesitates for a moment as he seriously considers going down the street, just to see. But sense takes over and he scoffs at himself. It's not practical. And he's a practical person.
He turns around and heads back to the café that he usually frequents. He doesn't need to change anything up. He needs the structure and order that his life has given him these past few years.
But there's something in him that's unsettled by the encounter, and not in a disturbed way, even if it should be. Something in the back of his mind that wonders if that's what the city is calling him towards.