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One of the first things you learned at the VILE Academy was that you must never be seen. Criminals were not allowed to be seen by the crowd, and since most missions involved theft, this golden rule was all the more important. Anyone who was seen was caught. And anyone who was caught and arrested had their memory erased and was out of the programme for good. There was no room for error, no second chances. Probably because an alliance of criminals was not the kind of group you could ask for forgiveness from. That was communicated openly. Failing to complete missions was okay, because in the end there were still plenty of other missions that could be successful. But if the authorities, from whatever country, knew your face, it was only a matter of time before the whole organisation could collapse like a house of cards. The solution: memory erasure, and suddenly you found yourself in a place that was as much a home as any other, with no memories of anything or anyone. No one wanted that, and especially after the Gray incident, everyone was even more cautious than before.
The problem was, however, that criminals shouldn't be too cautious either. Because if you didn't take any risks, at best you wouldn't succeed in your mission, and at worst you would become so paranoid that you would make serious mistakes and get caught. Which would ultimately lead to your memory being erased again. So it was important to find the perfect balance between caution and risk-taking, while also following all the other rules and tricks that VILE taught you.
Antonio and I knew all this when we flew to America for our latest mission. The job didn't even seem particularly difficult. It was just a matter of stealing some incredibly expensive painting that Countess Cleo desperately wanted and that was owned by a terribly rich man. You'd think we'd be back on the island in the near future. But if you wanted to rob private individuals, you had to deal with them, for better or worse. Another of VILE's basic principles: if you want to succeed, know your victims. In order to steal a painting from this man, who had some job in finance and whose name and life couldn't interest me less, we had to know his daily routine. That meant it was the third day in New York that we had to spend observing him and all the other people running around his huge house, and it was slowly becoming tiresome. Apparently, there wasn't much exciting to do when you were filthy rich.
Even though we usually split up, Antonio and I both shadowed the man who was taking his fiancée out to dinner at a restaurant that was, of course, far too expensive. We watched covertly as they entered the restaurant. I paced around restlessly.
‘What now? Are we going to wait until they come out again? That could take forever!’ I asked, shrugging my shoulders. Staying undercover was so incredibly time-consuming. If you wanted to steal from someone, you couldn't just walk up to them and say, ‘Hello, I'm Carmen Sandiego, and someone wants to do you harm, but now I'm here to ruin it all,’ as our old friend probably did. Antonio was silent for a while.
‘Maybe we should go inside too. If they say something important, like whether they'll be away for the next few days, we can hear it,’ he said thoughtfully, rubbing his hands together. I had a sneaking suspicion that he also wanted to get out of the cold, because December in New York was really freezing.
‘Brilliant, mon ami,’ I whispered, and he smiled sheepishly. That alone was enough to warm me up. His smile was truly enchanting. But I quickly shook off the thought and headed for the restaurant entrance.
The plan we came up with on the spur of the moment was quite simple. We sat down in the relatively empty restaurant – because, let's be honest, who had $89 to spend on a single meal without wine or dessert? – as close to the two of them as possible so that we could hear them, and stayed until they left. Super simple.
‘I'm sorry, we're completely booked up today,’ said the woman at the reception desk with a sympathetic look after typing something into her tablet for a long time. I exchanged glances with Antonio, because I really, really didn't want to stand in the cold for hours. Fine dining probably took even longer than a normal date at a restaurant. I had never done it before, but just looking at the entrance hall, it seemed like this was a place where you would spend the whole evening. Antonio nodded reassuringly at me, then stepped in front of me. I relaxed a little. He would definitely find a good solution. Because he always did. With his not-so-impulsive nature, Antonio always managed to find the best solutions, often for problems that I had actually caused. But he always got us out of trouble. My friend wouldn't let us go back out into the cold.
‘Oh, is there nothing that can be done?’ He sounded genuinely disappointed, and I hastened to put on a sadder face so that it wouldn't be my fault if the plan failed. Even though he couldn't see me. ‘You know,’ the Spanish man continued, motioning for me to take a step forward, ‘I didn’t really want to say anything, but we’re newly engaged and were really hoping to celebrate here.’ He took my hand and my heartbeat quickened. ‘After all, this is where we met! Could you please take another look?’ he begged kindly. I tried to keep my composure as I clasped Antonio's large, warm hand so tightly that it almost hurt. Engaged?! His performance caught me off guard. Perhaps there should have been more emphasis on acting in VILE. I took a deep breath. To get this table for the operation, I could pretend that Antonio and I were... together. Just for five minutes. I could allow myself to pretend for five minutes.
The receptionist's entire demeanour changed. She now smiled sincerely. ‘Aw, congratulations! Wait, maybe we can find something after all!’ She tapped on her tablet again, while Antonio replied hopefully, ‘That would be really great!’ She nodded. ‘Please wait a moment, I'll just check if that works,’ she said, striding through the swing door that separated the entrance hall from the rest of the restaurant and leaving us alone.
I stared at Antonio in disbelief. ‘Lo siento, mi amigo, but that was the first thing that came to mind!’ When he realised he was still holding my hand, he quickly let go. ‘I hope I didn't cross any lines,’ he whispered, and I shook my head.
"Nonsense, it's just to get in. It's fine. Once we're inside, we can get back to work as normal," I cleared my throat and tried to calm my pounding heart and racing mind.
Antonio, my best friend, my partner, thought he was putting me in an awkward situation, and he was, but for different reasons than he suspected.
The truth was that I wanted all of this very much. Not the fine dining or the surveillance, but holding his hand, kissing him, being close to him. Deep down, I sometimes wanted to be more than his best friend. But that couldn't be. I had always felt that our close friendship alone was sometimes a thorn in VILE's side. After all, we had already failed to complete a few missions because we were too busy worrying about and caring for each other. If we were a couple, it would probably only be a matter of time before we let our feelings control us so much that we made big mistakes and someone had to lose their memory. And in a life where Antonio no longer remembered me, or I no longer remembered him, I would not want to live. In the best-case scenario, if we did get together, we would no longer be sent on missions together, which would mean we would hardly see each other. No, it was safer to hide all those feelings deep in my heart and carry on as before.
After all, our friendship was great, it was something very special.
The lady came back and Antonio hastily grabbed my hand. ‘I have great news!’ she announced to us, ‘There's still a small table available. You're welcome to sit there.’ We certainly weren't welcome to sit there. None of us could afford the food, so we would probably have to leave later without paying. That could be difficult, given that we had already broken one of VILE's golden rules.
‘Wonderful!’ cheered Antonio. He seemed to be thriving in this role. ‘See, mi amor, I told you it would work!’ he said to me, and I just nodded, my cheeks beginning to glow at the term of endearment.
Much too late, I said, ‘Oui, you did.’ We followed the receptionist through the restaurant. The large room was beautiful. Even I had to admit that, and the whole place reminded me of the few restaurants I had been to in France. ‘It's so romantic here!’ Antonio whispered reverently beside me, gently clinging to my arm. I just nodded. As soon as we were at the table, everything was as usual. My eyes scanned the room for our victim. And when I spotted him, I choked and had to cough violently. ‘Oh, cariño!’ Another nickname that made me choke even more, but Antonio quickly patted me on the back until my breathing returned to normal.
The receptionist gave us a friendly look, while the rest of the restaurant looked at me as if I had just revealed a state secret. The woman pointed to the table in front of her. "Here is your table. Someone will be with you shortly, and I wish you a wonderful evening. Congratulations again,‘ she said as she bid us farewell. ’Thank you," we murmured in unison. The table was right next to another one where our victim and his fiancée were sitting.
‘Oh, the other couple, how lovely!’ exclaimed the woman happily, and Antonio smiled bravely. ‘Yes, that's right!’ It seemed we couldn't stop the charade just yet. ‘I'm Valentina and this is Jack. We're so pleased to meet you!’ she introduced us.
‘We are too. I'm Antonio and this is Jean Paul.’ I just stared at him. Obviously, he shouldn't have used our code names, but our real names? If VILE found out, I didn't even want to know what would happen to us. On the other hand, they couldn't do much with our first names alone, as long as we weren't caught. But even though we only addressed each other by our first names, it felt strange to be introduced by Antonio like that.
Antonio gave me a contrite look; at least he knew he'd made a mistake. I shrugged. I couldn't physically be angry with him anyway, and what was done was done. So I just sat down silently and studied the menu.
‘And you're newly engaged, according to the receptionist?’ Valentina resumed the conversation as if it were inconceivable that just because we were practically sitting at the same table, each couple could remain among themselves. Now I was already referring to us as a couple. It was maddening for the deeply hidden feelings inside me.
Because now that I was starting to get a taste of it, I wanted more, much more.
It was like stealing or climbing. Like everything else, really. At first, everything was new, took effort and was exciting, but once I had tried it, I just wanted more.
Antonio must have answered while I was staring silently at the menu, because he nudged me under the table and gave me a look that made it clear what he wanted. He wanted me to join in the charade. ‘Yes, we're engaged! Since, um, today. I asked him and he said yes!’ I announced, my voice sounding much too loud and shrill in my ears. I wasn't usually a bad actor, but something about this situation made it impossible to be normal. Maybe it was the fact that I was faking being with the person I was in love with anyway. No! In love was too strong a word. The person I liked. My special friend.
Antonio cleared his throat and stood up. ‘Excuse me for a moment. Jean, if anyone comes, just order for me, okay?’
‘Of course, chéri,’ I replied, and the pet name felt so good on my lips. I wanted to call him something like that all the time. Sometimes I would sneak simple terms of endearment into our conversations that went beyond the classic ‘mon ami,’ but this was the first time I did it consciously, with the intention of openly showing my partner my love. ...My feelings, not love. My maximum feigned love. To my only feigned lover.
‘Are you French?’ It was the first time the man had spoken.
‘Obviously,’ I muttered and nodded, my gaze continuing to rest on the menu. I didn't like that Antonio had left me alone. He was much better at all this talking.
‘And your boyfriend, where is he from?’ our future victim then asked, ‘You’re neither American, are you?’ Now I was offended. I closed the menu and opened my mouth to tell him what I thought. We were obviously not Americans! Carmen's companions were from America, and we were much more classy and sophisticated than those two red-haired siblings and all other Americans.
But Antonio wouldn't like it if I made a scene over this simple question, and besides, we had to stay under the radar. At least as much as we could at this point. So I closed my mouth and then opened it again to reply, "No, we're not. He's Spanish. But we work and live here now.‘
’European!‘ Vivian exclaimed excitedly, pointing to her partner. ’We want to spend our honeymoon there.‘
’Where exactly?‘ I asked.
’We don't know yet. Spain or Italy, maybe. What would you recommend?‘ I bit my tongue. As if, as a European, I knew the whole continent. If it hadn't been for VILE, I wouldn't have had the money to ever leave France. Again, I had to collect myself for a moment.
’Well, from personal experience, France, of course. It is, as they say, the country of love after all." Talking about my old home felt good. Even though I was only talking about the completely corny, romanticised version that tourists loved so much, I relaxed a little more, even without Antonio by my side. ‘But thanks to Antonio, I know that Spain also has a lot to offer,’ I continued, recounting a little of what Antonio had told me about his home.
‘How did you two even meet?’ Vivian asked just as the waiter suddenly appeared and wanted to take our orders. Although I had been looking at the menu the whole time, I hadn’t chosen anything, but had just been amazed that people were willing to spend so much money on a meal. I liked expensive wine and I appreciated gourmet food, but these prices seemed almost ridiculously decadent. It was as if people ate here just to prove to themselves that they could afford it. I just ordered something for both of us and then turned back to Vivian.
‘At school. We did the same training,’ I said vaguely, but of course this stupid, rich American had to probe further. ‘Oh, what kind of training?’ she asked cheerfully, as if our conversation were pure entertainment. I tapped my leg impatiently. When was Antonio finally coming back? And what profession was close enough to criminal that Antonio might guess? ‘It was training for, um...’ I dragged out the sentence a little.
‘Acrobats.’ Antonio suddenly stood behind me, as if he were a rock in the surf. He briefly put his hand on my shoulder before returning to his seat. ‘Jean has always been much better than me. If you could see what he can do when he's in the air, in his element...I'm impressed every time,‘ his gaze met mine and his compliment sounded so sincere that I was speechless. Antonio smiled and then turned back to the couple. ’Of course, I worry every time I see him. Sometimes I'm really afraid he'll fall when he, um...‘ He paused for a millisecond. ’Balances on ropes and stuff, but every time he shows me how talented he is and how unnecessary my concern is." I had to smile. Balancing on ropes, then.
‘Your worries are not unfounded, mon amour. I will never fall when I know you are thinking of me,’ I replied. I was slowly getting better at this. And Antonio really touched me a little.
Because I knew that on some missions he was seriously worried that I would fall. Less so when we split up, more so when he saw what I was doing and what was unimaginable for him, with his fear of heights. He forgot that it was probably the same the other way around. But I couldn't tell him that here.
I had fallen many times before, but only once so badly that I thought I would never function as I had before. Never be able to walk again, let alone climb. The tears I secretly shed at the time were less because of the pain and more because of the fear of now being useless to VILE and having to part with Antonio. And no matter how hard I tried to repress this incident, I knew that it was just as unforgettable and terrible for him as it was for me.
‘You're really adorable. Now show us the ring!’ Vivian exclaimed excitedly, and all my tension returned. The waiter came to bring us our food and wine, and I immediately took a generous sip as a hot flush ran down my back. Now we would be exposed and...
‘Of course,’ Antonio said calmly, but with shining eyes. He held out his hand to her, which was indeed wearing a silver ring.
‘It's really beautiful,’ Vivian said reverently, and Jack nodded too. Our victim, I was already starting to call him by name. It was time to get out of here!
‘Yes, I think it's wonderful too. Especially because I know it means we're getting married!’ Antonio sounded so... happy. I poked at my food. It was some kind of pasta; I hadn't ordered a starter. I wished he would sound like that when I asked him to marry me. When? If ! All of this was not good for my heart. Because somehow my hand had found its way into Antonio's and now he was gently stroking the back of my wrist with his thumb. I wanted to get out of here. I wanted to put a lot of distance between us so that I could remember why we couldn't be together. Why this could never happen outside of this restaurant. But it was so difficult and only got harder.
Because when Antonio looked at me like that, his eyes shining, his gaze wandering between my eyes and lips, calling me Spanish pet names, it was hard to imagine that none of this meant anything to him. It was just my foolish heart, because I wanted him to be serious. He had stolen a ring to play my fiancé. And to maintain our cover. But I was so desperate, and I had never wanted him so fucking badly.
‘...isn't that right, mi vida?’ Antonio seemed to be talking about something and wanted my confirmation. I nodded.
‘Oui, exactly,’ I mumbled and bit my lip to sink back into my thoughts. His gaze fell on my mouth again. Okay, now I wanted him more than ever. One more Spanish word and I would push him against the wall and kiss and touch him like there was no tomorrow. And he would say mi amor again, cariño, mi vida and all the other beautiful words that existed in Spanish to make me swoon. I would whisper things in French and he would moan and love it. I shifted restlessly in my chair. It was so simple. The more I forbade myself to like him, the more I seemed to need him. Actually, I thought that as a trained criminal, you could have anything you wanted. I could, but it wasn't possible, it was too dangerous and too…
‘Jean? Mi amor? Jean Paul!’ Antonio called out, pulling me out of my spiral of thoughts. Once again, I felt myself blushing at the sound of his pet name. ‘Hmm?’ I replied. ‘Are you all right? You seemed so distracted,’ he said, sounding concerned.
‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine, bien,’ I quickly assured him.
‘Our friends here are leaving now, Jean,’ said Antonio gently, because I had apparently been lost in thought for quite some time.
‘Oh, what a pity!’ I said, hoping fervently that it sounded sincere. ‘Already?’
‘Unfortunately,’ Vivian sounded disappointed, "but we have another arranged meeting this evening. Otherwise, we would have really liked to continue talking with you.‘ Her fiancé was at the front paying the bill. That seemed to be the way to do it in this chic, luxurious establishment. Good to know.
’Then I wish you a wonderful evening," I said goodbye.
‘It was really lovely meeting you, thank you for the nice conversation,’ Antonio added. She nodded and looked at us with a smile.
‘I wish you an incredible evening too. Celebrate your engagement well! And have fun at the wedding and on your honeymoon!’
‘Thank you, we're going to the Canary Islands,’ I quickly replied. Not a complete lie.
‘You are such a sweet couple! The way you interact with each other is truly magical,’ she showered us with compliments until her lover called her over and she finally said goodbye. I was a little sad. Not because those annoying Americans were finally gone, they meant nothing to me, but because now there was no reason to pretend I was with Antonio. No reason to hold his hand and call him French names that you only really call your partner. No reason for him to look at me in a way that made me ready to burn the world down for him and wrap me around his finger with Spanish words. No reason to hope that we would kiss under any circumstances.
Lo siento,’ was the first thing Antonio said after a few moments of sitting there in silence. ‘I didn't know that would happen! That must have been so uncomfortable for you.’ Why did he think that?
‘Why do you think that?’ I asked, sounding harsher than I intended. But he should stop acting as if I wouldn't marry him on the spot if he asked me to. Or as if I found him somehow repulsive.
‘Well, I know you don't like small talk and other people. And you don't seem to be the type for physical contact or effusive displays of affection, so I thought it would be awkward for you to have to pretend to be my boyfriend.’ He noticed that our hands were still intertwined, and when he tried to pull them away, I stopped him.
"You shouldn't think that. Did I find those Americans terribly annoying? Obviously. Do I not particularly like touching other people? Right. Did you mess up with the names? Absolutely,‘ he looked at me contritely, ’But that doesn't mean you're a problem for me, Antonio. That I have a problem with being close to you or anything like that. I like that." I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying more. I was going to end up confessing my love out of nowhere. My infatuation. That I wanted to be even closer to him.
‘At least they gave us a rough idea of what they're planning to do over the next few days. We're almost there, then we can finally get this done. They're meeting up with some other people now to decide whether they want to celebrate New Year's Eve with them or on their own.’ I jumped. The mission.
‘Antonio! Why are you only telling me this now? Do you know where?’ He nodded. "Then we have to go there. Come on! We need this information! That's the only reason we've been doing nothing but this terribly boring surveillance for days. Why didn't you say anything earlier?‘
’It was more important to me that you weren't angry with me!‘ I groaned.
’As if I could be angry with you about anything.‘
Escaping from the restaurant was so easy that I wondered how the place managed to attract paying customers at all. ‘Nice ring, by the way,’ I remarked when I saw Antonio twirling it.
‘Thanks. It wasn't hard to get,’ he laughed, ‘You really picked a great one.’ I would have chosen a nicer one, that much was certain. He deserved a much nicer one.
‘Which way do we go?’ I asked, so as not to fall back into those painfully romantic thoughts.
‘That way,’ Antonio nodded vaguely and we started walking. ‘You would have known that if you had been listening, you professional criminal.’ He shook his head amusedly.
We didn't walk along the main road, but along a smaller one, which was still huge because everything in New York seemed to be huge. We turned off the road, back onto the main road, because the bar the two of them wanted to go to was only a few metres away, when Antonio pulled me back to the corner.
Jean Paul, shh. Shit. ¡Mierda!’
‘What, what is it?’ I didn't want to look around the corner because I had a feeling what it was.
‘There they are!’ Antonio whispered distraughtly, and my brain began to race. We couldn't escape into the darkness or hide because the street we had come from was still very wide and straight.
‘Non,’ I muttered, knowing that we had to decide what to do now. When we looked at each other, we both knew that there was only one possible solution to avoid revealing why we were here at this particular moment. My heart was already pounding wildly at the thought, and Antonio's gaze fell on my lips, then he looked at me.
‘Jean, may I...’
‘No time!’
I closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his. We kissed! We really did it. I pushed him hard against the wall of the house. It was my chance to do everything I had dreamed of for so long, everything I had wanted so badly since he had started speaking those wonderful Spanish words. We had to kiss, more than that, we had to make out passionately, and there was no way around it. Never before had I been so grateful for anything on a mission. Antonio kissed me wonderfully, with the gentle determination with which he did everything. At first, his hands rested loosely on my back, but after a while they clung to the fabric and we didn't stop. It became more and more intense, and I couldn't tell if the two had already walked past, if they had recognised us or said anything. It didn't even occur to me to think about it. Because Antonio was kissing me. Hard and with his tongue, while his hands were now clinging to my hips. I didn't want it to end, but eventually we broke apart to catch our breath. With swollen lips and completely out of breath, we stared at each other.
Maybe after the scene in the restaurant, I could have somehow pretended that none of it had ever happened, but now that was no longer possible.
Cariño,’ he whispered, even though there was no one here he needed to pretend to.
‘Chéri,’ I whispered back, because something fundamental had changed.
‘They're gone, right? Do you think they recognised us?’ he asked, and I shrugged and looked at his lips instead. I wanted more, to continue. In our little room that VILE had provided for the agents, and continue right here. But actually, it still wasn't possible. Now that I knew exactly what I could never have again, this realisation hurt even more.
Antonio opened his mouth and I knew he was going to say that it was all a mistake, an unnecessary risk and not real at all! It was just a cheap cover-up and I would agree with him and put all my feelings back where they belonged. Deep down in my heart. Because when you were a VILE agent, you couldn't just fall in love with your best friend and hope for a romantic relationship that would last forever. And Antonio surely saw it the same way.
‘Kiss me again,’ he demanded.
‘You have—wait, what?’
‘Kiss me again,’ he repeated, and despite his widened pupils and swollen lips, he looked completely calm. I looked at him in confusion, but complied with his request. It was a shorter kiss, but no less intense than the one before, and it made me throw all my principles overboard. When we broke apart, Antonio immediately started talking:
‘Let's go to the room.’
‘What?’ I asked again, because my brain had stopped processing information since we started making out.
‘Jean, I really, really like you,’ he began, "and honestly, I don't really care what the Americans in that bar have to say. In fact, we could even call Carmen Sandiego personally and tell her we want to steal the painting so she can defend it. I don't really care. The thing is, what happened between us earlier in the restaurant and just now, that's what I do care about. I really like you, querido, and I can't shake the feeling that you feel the same way. For me, what happened earlier wasn't an act, okay? Everything I said was real. Okay, except for the engagement thing, and it's really, really more important to me to know what you think than to get this job done."
‘I like you too. Very, very much. I don't think I'm very good at this,’ I took a moment to collect myself, "If I gave you the impression that I don't like being with you, it's because I've liked you for so long and at the same time I'm so afraid that a relationship or anything other than friendship would ruin us. That we would become careless and it would end with one of us losing their memory. But no matter how hard I try, I can't help but see you as the most wonderful person I know. And someone I would really, really like to be more than friends with. And earlier in the restaurant, I let myself dream for a moment that this could work. That it could be real."
‘It could be real, mi amor.’ The nickname made me light up. "It is real. And I understand that you're afraid, but if we don't try, we'll never know what it could be, right? Dios mio, you jump over these insane cliffs as if you wouldn't break every bone in your body if you didn't make it. You take that risk without thinking about it. What's stopping you from taking that risk, from trying it with me?"
‘You're more important to me than all my bones, mon amour. That's the difference, do you understand? I don't want you to get hurt.’
‘I won't! You won't hurt me, I know that! And...’ He came dangerously close to me and stroked my sides. ‘Haven't we always learned that something meaningful has to be worth the risk?’ I nodded.
‘You're worth it to me, Antonio,’ I said, and he smiled.
‘And you're worth it to me.’ We kissed again, and this time the kiss was free of desperation and pretence and full of only true love.
‘We can steal the picture tomorrow, can't we?’ he whispered, ‘Because I'd rather go back to the room now. Just the two of us.’
‘It's not going anywhere. Let's go,’ I replied and pulled him towards the motel where we were staying.
‘Te amo,’ he said.
‘Je t'aime,’ I replied, glad that we had broken VILE's golden rule.