Work Text:
No matter how much the clinking of glasses and bottles might distract him, Felix remained lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixed on the amber-colored liquid gently swirling at the bottom of his glass. The face of his late wife seemed to reflect in the tequila from time to time, filling him with a tragic hope that made Felix want to sink into it and escape at the same time. His mind forced him to recall the accident from just five days ago, as well as the funeral he had had to attend a few hours earlier, which only caused his remorse to grow by the second, as he asked himself over and over again what he could have done to prevent that tragedy.
One of his hands held what looked like letters, still accompanied by the envelopes that had kept them safe for years, protecting them from the passage of time. As much as Felix seemed to cherish them, his fingers gripped the paper tightly, as if his wife’s words were the only thing connecting him to the world.
“Sir,” a waiter finally approached him, concerned. “Are you all right?”
Many of the people who had ended up taking refuge in the same bar as him turned to look at him from time to time, dismayed, wondering what could be the reason for the terrible state Felix seemed to be in. The fog in his mind, caused by the alcohol, made the helplessness take hold of him even more, leaving him slumped in his seat like a corpse.
“Sir?”
“Yeah, don’t worry,” Felix set the tequila aside to rub his face with his hand, in an attempt to regain some sanity and clarity. “J-just… Just bring me a little more of that.”
Felix pointed to the half-empty glass in front of him, still containing traces of tequila, not daring to look up yet.
The man looked at him with a frown, wondering if it was his place to try to help the stranger, who didn’t seem to understand what was happening around him. His eyes scanned the letters on the table for a few seconds, puzzled, before fixing his gaze back on Felix.
“Sir, we can call a taxi for you—”
In an instant, Felix wrapped his free hand around the glass and slammed it hard onto the table, without actually breaking it.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Felix’s eyes finally met the waiter’s, and judging by the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, the waiter realized that Felix probably didn’t understand what was going on in his own head either. “Bring me—bring me more tequila. Please.”
The waiter finally nodded, though doubt still lingered on his face, then took the glass and walked back to the bar.
Felix just sat there in his chair, his eyes fixed on the table. The oxygen seemed to burn his throat, reminding him slightly of the smell of a burning car…
Before his brain could play any more dirty tricks on him, another glass of tequila appeared in front of him, and, unconsciously, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. Felix’s eyes silently scanned the letters once more, then turned his attention back to the tequila. Meanwhile, the bartender turned to look at him one last time, pityingly, and walked away to attend to another customer.
The voices scattered throughout the bar were turning into whispers and sounds difficult to identify as Felix took more and more sips of tequila, still without even knowing what he was trying to achieve by doing so. His ears were growing increasingly foggy, and drowsiness seemed to want to take over his body, letting his eyelids rest on his cheeks.
As soon as he closed his eyes, the face of his late wife appeared in his mind, like a light trying to guide him through the darkness his eyelids brought with them. However, for some reason, the sound of a small bell made his eyes snap open, and he fixed his gaze solely on the bar’s entrance.
Reflected there was a most peculiar silhouette, a man in strange clothing and with a hairstyle that, given the amount of alcohol Felix had consumed, made him believe for a moment that it was all just a hallucination. Felix’s face was reflected in red glass that served to hide the stranger’s eyes. After looking around for a few seconds, the stranger walked toward Felix, smiling.
The soles of his shoes echoed on the wooden floor, and Felix looked up, still clutching his glass of tequila.
“Felix, isn’t it?” the stranger tilted his head to one side, the smile never leaving his lips.
Felix merely blinked in response, not knowing what to say.
That man looked familiar to him. Maybe it was his unique style—both in the way he dressed and his hairstyle—or maybe it was that cheerful voice that also felt unsettling, as if there were something more behind those melodious words. That was when his eyes snapped open as he realized that this stranger was the oddball who now announced the time on the news.
“You know me, don’t you?” As he spoke, the man took a seat across from him. “I haven’t been working on TV for very long, but I’m sure you at least recognize my voice from the radio. Oh! And let’s not forget my hairstyle, it’s hard to forget.” He pointed to his hair with a finger, amused, smiling with equal parts pride and excitement.
“Y-yes,” Felix finally managed to say, swallowing and clearing his throat, which burned from the alcohol. “I recognize you, I think. Mymo, right?”
The other man simply nodded, pleased with his response, then settled into his chair and rested both hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. Felix’s eyes fixed on the microphone that Mymo’s hand was holding firmly, puzzled, before turning his attention back to the glasses.
It was strange. Felix felt some kind of attraction to those red lenses, as if he longed to discover what lay hidden behind them.
Meanwhile, Mymo gestured to one of the waiters, ordered a glass of Aglianico red wine, and then turned his attention back to the man sitting across from him.
“You see, Felix,” his name rolled off his lips like sweet honey, and Felix swallowed once more. “I’ve been told what happened to you. To you and your wife.”
Mymo’s voice took on a slightly sad tone, and Felix’s breathing began to quicken, unsure of how to respond.
“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Mymo’s mouth formed a straight line, though a trace of his characteristic smile still lingered at the corners of his lips. “That men like you, with such a full life, lose everything so suddenly. It’s a shame.”
Mymo’s words, though they didn’t seem to carry any ill will, caused a lump to form in Felix’s throat. The hand holding the tequila glass began to grip it more tightly, while his teeth clenched with anger and sadness. The letters, meanwhile, found their way into one of his coat pockets, in an attempt to protect them.
Mymo didn’t miss that last detail.
Seconds later, the wine arrived at the table and Mymo smiled with satisfaction, then took the glass between his fingers and took a sip of the drink.
“What do you want?” Felix finally asked, wearily.
Mymo formed an ‘o’ with his lips, as if he didn’t quite understand Felix’s attitude, and then smiled again.
“I want to help you, of course,” he began, playing with the microphone in his hands. “I also know you’ve lost your job, and the last thing I want is for you to rot away in a place like this, wasting your money on alcohol to drown your sorrows. Your wife, if you ask me, I think she’d feel the same way I do.”
Suddenly, the chair Felix was sitting in slid backward with a jolt, making a horrible sound as it slammed against the wood. Felix stood up just as he slammed his hands on the table, sending the tequila glass crashing to the floor. Everyone in the bar turned to look at them, surprised. Meanwhile, Mymo didn’t even flinch, looking up curiously.
“I won’t ask you again,” Felix’s anger was evident in his words. “What do you want?”
Silence fell over the room, mirroring the tension of the crowd around them, and Mymo simply blinked in silence, as if analyzing the situation and weighing his words. The hand not holding the microphone rested on his chin, which he stroked thoughtfully, before placing it back on the table and smiling.
“I want to offer you a job,” he said, without further ado. A somewhat awkward silence fell between them, though, judging by his smile, Mymo didn’t seem too bothered. He took another sip of wine, indifferent.
Felix swallowed hard, still standing. His body swayed gently from side to side, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he heard his wife’s sweet voice begging him to flee that place. He shook his head angrily, trying to shake off those annoying hallucinations that were trying to hurt him, before turning his attention back to Mymo.
“What kind of job?”
“Hmm,” Mymo looked up at the ceiling, thoughtful, and smiled. “You could be a kind of bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard?”
“Of course!” Mymo leaned forward once more, and part of his eyelashes peeked out from above his glasses. “I’m more than sure you long to protect your loved ones. It’s the perfect job for you.”
Felix’s eyes widened with equal parts anger and confusion, and the alcohol still coursing through his body finally took over his senses.
“Are you mocking me?!” Felix walked around the table until he was standing face-to-face with Mymo, ready to confront him.
Mymo, for his part, sighed wearily, pulling a face of annoyance, then brought his microphone just a few inches from his lips and activated it with a flick of his finger. Felix simply watched him in silence, not understanding what was happening, still weighing whether he should let this guy walk out of there without any punishment.
Meanwhile, with all the calm in the world, Mymo simply took another sip of his wine and set his glasses down on the table. Seconds later, he parted his lips to speak, fixing his gaze on the man in front of him. However, just before that magic capable of charming anyone escaped his mouth, the expression on Felix’s face made him seal his lips.
Felix watched him with his mouth agape and his eyes wide open, equally surprised and amazed, not knowing what to say. Those eyes, those dark eyes… They seemed all too familiar to him.
Perhaps it was the soft dark circles that adorned his lower eyelids, or maybe it was his long lower lashes, contrasting with his drooping eyelids, or even how difficult it was to distinguish where his iris ended and his pupil began, as if they blended together to form the deepest abyss of all. A familiar abyss into which Felix remembered having let himself be absorbed a thousand times, smiling every single time.
Mymo watched his reaction in silence, doing everything he could to keep the joy that was threatening to take over his body from showing on his face. After all, he was an expert at hiding his true self behind a smiling mask. He downed the last of the wine in one gulp, in an attempt to hide his elation, then set the glass down on the table, smiling gently.
Oh, this is perfect.
“Felix?” Mymo looked at him, puzzled and even a little concerned. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you, really. I can buy you a drink, if you want, to make it up to you.”
The other man just watched him in silence, not daring to look away from the dark eyes that seemed capable of pulling him out of the hole he was trapped in.
“Felix?” Mymo frowned slightly and waved his hand in front of Felix’s face, trying to snap him out of his reverie.
That small gesture seemed to work. Felix blinked rapidly and shook his head, then took a few steps back from Mymo, confused by what had just happened. Mymo, for his part, gave him a pitying smile and gestured with one hand toward Felix’s chair.
“Please, have a seat.”
Felix’s hands trembled for a few seconds, and he swallowed hard, nodded, and, having no other choice, obeyed Mymo’s words, sitting down across from him. The other man, meanwhile, put away his small microphone, smiling.
Mymo silently sized up Felix. In just a second, after the simple gesture of taking off his glasses, Felix had become a bundle of nerves, avoiding his gaze at all costs. The aggressiveness he had shown earlier (with good reason) had completely vanished, and with it, shyness had made itself present in each and every one of his gestures, completely shattering any possibility of hiding his body language.
“I apologize again,” Mymo parted his lips to speak, and Felix looked at him for a second, then looked away again and shook his head.
“Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything wrong, or at least, nothing that wasn’t true,” his teeth seemed to even chatter as he spoke, and Mymo had to suppress a big smile. “I’m still— I’m still pretty shaken up by everything that’s happened. I don’t usually act like this; my apologies.”
“Oh, Felix,” one of Mymo’s hands slid across the table until it rested on Felix’s. “It’s normal for you to act this way. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and suffering you’ve been through and are going through right now…”
Felix nodded sadly, watching Mymo’s hand on his before sinking back into the dark abyss that lay between the eyelids of the man sitting across from him.
“I want to help you, I really do.” Mymo suddenly withdrew his hand, and the corners of his lips turned upward as he saw the disappointment written on Felix’s face. Seconds later, his eyes looked curiously at the letters peeking out of Felix’s coat pocket. “What’s that?”
Felix blinked in confusion, then followed Mymo’s gaze until his attention also settled on the letters from his late wife. His lips formed a sad grimace, and he carefully took the envelopes in his hands and placed them on the table.
“These are letters from my wife,” he murmured, and though he wanted to keep talking, the words stuck in his throat felt too painful to utter aloud. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold back the pain coursing through his body as he recalled the image of his late beloved, then opened them and focused his attention on Mymo’s eyes. The pain faded, and, summoning his courage, Felix spoke again. “It’s—it’s the last thing I have left of her.”
“Oh,” Mymo’s lips curled into a feigned sadness, and slowly, he reached out a hand to wrap his fingers around one of the letters.
At that simple gesture, Felix’s body tensed instantly and his eyebrows furrowed with anger. However, Mymo fixed his eyes on his, and once again, the anger, sadness, and pain vanished in the blink of an eye.
Mymo’s fingers glided gently over the paper of the envelope, and the man sighed.
“It’s a treasure you must protect, Felix. After all, it’s possible that, in the future, they might protect both you and your loved ones,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the letter. “Take care of them.”
His free hand took Felix’s, turning it so his palm faced upward, and placed the letter there. Still without saying a word, Mymo took Felix’s fingers with his other hand to close them and wrap them around the letter.
“Do as I say, all right?”
Mymo’s eyes locked onto Felix’s, and once again, he was left breathless, unable to grasp the horrible fate Mymo was personally plotting for him.
“Y-yes,” he finally managed to say. “I’ll do it.”
Mymo gave him a pleased smile, then leaned back in his chair.
“So, are you interested in the job?”
“Huh?”
“The bodyguard job,” he leaned forward again and rested his chin in his hands. “You’d work for me, full-time, taking care of my safety.”
Mymo paused, holding back the excitement and joy coursing through every inch of his body, then spoke again, fixing his eyes on Felix’s.
“Making sure to keep me safe.”
Felix’s eyebrows furrowed in pain, and his attention returned to the letters resting between his fingers. Once again, deep within his mind, the voice of his late wife made itself heard, begging him to get out of there. His hands began to tremble, and tears welled up in his eyes once more.
“Sure, why not?” he replied at last, smiling sadly, and, as if by magic, his beloved’s voice vanished. “After all, I must learn to rebuild my life.”
“Wonderful!” Mymo exclaimed suddenly, rising from his seat. “In that case, you must go to this address.”
He handed him a small card, which Felix didn’t pay much attention to before tucking it into his coat pocket, next to the letters. Mymo’s smile seemed to tremble with emotion, but Felix decided not to read too much into it.
“It will be a pleasure to work with you, Felix,” Mymo held out his hand, and Felix also stood up from his seat to shake it firmly. “I look forward to seeing you again.”
With that, Mymo waved goodbye with a smile, and Felix waved back, doing his best to return the smile, even though the corners of his lips were burning with pain. He slumped back into his seat, almost devastated to see Mymo leave. Mymo winked at him just before putting his glasses back on and leaving the bar, setting off that damn little bell again.
It was then that that horrible knot in his stomach made itself felt once more, making Felix feel nauseous.
As much as it pained him to admit it, he missed those eyes that had restored his peace and happiness for just a few seconds. He needed to have them close, to be able to drown in them once more. He knew the reasons behind all this, he knew them all too well; yet, he was ashamed to acknowledge how desperate he was.
Was he really going to let the eyes of a stranger, no matter how identical they were to his wife’s, determine his future?
“Sir,” the voice of the waiter from earlier snapped him out of his thoughts, and Felix turned to look at him. “Are you going to pay for what you’ve had?”
Felix swallowed nervously, then nodded. He rummaged through the pockets of his coat for his wallet, finally finding it and pulling out some money. He handed a few coins to the waiter, who looked at them in silence, then turned his attention back to Felix, raising an eyebrow.
“The wine too, please.”
Almost instinctively, Felix’s eyes glanced sideways at the empty glass lying on the table. A kind of rage began to course through his body, but then those wonderful eyes came to mind, and the anger vanished.
“Yeah, sure,” Felix nodded, then muttered, “H-he’s been really kind to me, after all.”
The waiter ignored his last remark and walked away without saying another word, satisfied.
Felix, meanwhile, took the letters and the card Mymo had given him out of his pocket again, being careful not to damage anything. He set the letters aside and looked more closely at the little card between his fingers.
Perhaps, and only perhaps, an opportunity had presented itself to him. An opportunity to move forward, forget his sorrows, and try to find what he had lost in another place, or rather in another person. But how desperate was he? Mymo was just some random man, a stranger to him, but those eyes had brought him comfort. Just by looking into those dark orbs, the pain in his heart seemed to ease, slowly fading away.
Maybe, for once in his life, desperation could also work in his favor, right? Even if it was just this once…