{Vincent}
I hung my jacket up on the back of the front door. As I went to take my shoes off, I smelt burning. Which wasn’t an unusual thing for me to smell, the next door restaurant sold garbage to their customers. But the smell was coming from further into the apartment. Without even taking my left shoe off, I rushed to the kitchen. “Lamoree-?” I looked into the kitchen, and saw Rody panicking by the stove. He was trying to keep the smoke from going to the fire alarm. I stared for a moment, then walked over, simply turning off the stove, and covering the pan with the lid. I turned to look at the now, worried man in front of me. He smiled sheepishly, putting the papers that he was using to fan the smoke away from the fire alarm, on the counter. “I- um- I made dinner-?” He laughed nervously. I looked down at the pan that had had the fire. “Seems. Appetizing.” I looked back at him. His ginger hair was a mess, and for some reason he was wet. I furrowed my brows. “Why’re you wet? Did you get burned?” I asked, taking in more of his appearance. “No- Well- Yes- But only my clothes!” “And, instead of taking the whole fire out with the water, you just took the fire out that was on you?” “..I didn’t know if you wanted your stove covered in water-” “Well, I certainly did not want a fire on it, but here we are.”
Rody fidgeted with his hands a bit. I noticed, and quietly sighed to myself. I pat his shoulder, then went to take care of the now disintegrated food in the pan. “Let’s leave the cooking to me.” He nodded.
30 minutes later…
I sat down on the couch, looking over the newspaper. A new bistro was opening down the street. How exciting. I continued to scan over the folded paper in my hands, when I noticed that the shower seemed to be running in the bathroom. I looked up from the paper, and over towards the bathroom. The light was on. “Lamoree?” I called out, getting up, and setting the newspaper aside. I walked over to the bathroom, and gently knocked on the door. Before Rody could have even had a chance to respond, the phone rang. I glanced towards it, and I could even hear the water turning off. The phone rang again. The tension that spread through the apartment was palpable. It had been 2 days since Rody had taken Mannon’s body, and hidden it by the beach, where her parents later found it. It pissed me off, with how easily he could slip the control away from me. “..Are you going to answer it, Vince.?” I heard him ask through the door. I glanced back at the bathroom door that I was in front of, and then back at the phone. It rang again. I closed my eyes, took a quiet deep breath, collecting myself, and answered.
“Vincent Charbonneau, who’s this?” I asked, adorning the normal cold and placid tone I use towards every unwanted thing.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
{Rody}
I listened through the door, pressing my ear up against the cool wood, and keeping the towel around my waist. I wasn’t planning on leaving the bathroom, but I felt like I had to be somewhat modest. Even in my own presence. I could hear Vincent’s occasional vague response. I couldn’t tell who was on the other end of the phone. Why must you act cold and mysterious all the time? I gripped the door handle, and the towel I was keeping up harder, the fear practically gnawing my mind out. I listened as I heard the soft click of the phone, and Vince’s footsteps walking away from the door. Great, now I actually have to leave to get answers- I dried myself off quickly, and then slipped some plaid pajama pants, with a white tank-top on. I walked out of the bathroom, and noticed Vincent’s room door open a crack. Cautiously walking over, and peeking in, I saw Vincent packing a bag. I gently pushed the door open, stepping into the room officially.
“So-? What’s going on?” I asked. He paused, and glanced at me. “My sister called, and informed me that my mom just died.” He said, with his usual, bland tone. I stared at him for a moment. “Your mother died? Why do you seem so calm about that??” Vincent just shrugged, and went back to packing. “I need you to stay here and take care of La Gueule de Saturne for about two days.” I stared at him, and crossed his arms. I felt a shiver down my spine. After I had gone and hidden Mannon’s body for her parents to find, the plan was that I was supposed to be staying low. “What about the plan.?” I mumbled. Vincent zipped his luggage up, and turned to me. “You can just stay in the office, Lamoree. Honestly, I don’t expect you to handle the cooks for two days, I just need someone to make sure no one goes into my office. And the only person I trust with that, is you.” He answered, sincerity ringing in his voice as he spoke. What if someone recognizes me.? What if when Vincent leaves, I get taken into prison for a murder I didn’t do, just assisted in..? How bad is a sentence to assist a kill…? Fuck, is it as bad as actually murdering the person?! Vince must’ve noticed somehow where my thoughts were headed.
He walked closer to me, and pulled me into a gentle embrace, which quickly grounded me, and snapped me out of my own head. We stayed like that, standing there for a couple moments. He then looked at me, and gently lifted my chin. “We’ll figure something out.”
Comment