0 comments

Holiday

A shiver ran through Bianca’s spine.

Through her window, she could see the blanket of snow and how it tucked the concrete floor. The sunrise was creeping behind the buildings, announcing the beginning of the last day of the year.

Leaving her bed and stepping into the cold was less of a hassle than it was most winter days, the promise of her first time watching the ball drop pulling her up and into the day. 

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, flushed cheeks from the cold in her porcelain skin. Amid her excitement, there was a slight weight. The subtle reminder lingered on her mind that this time she would be alone for the holidays, her roommate Clara away in Bali with her boyfriend, her family back in Austin. She shook it out of her head, and opened the hot water of the shower, letting her troubles float away with the steam.

After her shower, she got ready and headed over to Bite of the Apple, the small coffee shop a block away from her place. She had some work she wanted to get ahead on to start the New Year off with the right foot. 

She set her things up in a long, wooden table after ordering a green tea, and got to work on a book cover design. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a tall body covered in a long, black coat. She felt a steady glance positioned over her body and caught the tall man staring at her. As soon as she noticed, he turned around, pretending it had never happened.

He was attractive, pretty conventionally so. Strong jawline, dark hair, dark eyes. Bianca struggled going back to work after that interaction, especially after she got startled by a deep voice.

“Do you think you could plug this in there?” it asked. Bianca jumped, barely, out of surprise, and looked to her right to find the forementioned man showing her a laptop charger.

“Yes, sure thing,” she replied, agitated, recovering from the initial shock. “You startled me,” she added, laughing.

“Yeah, I noticed. Sorry about that,” and then, the man smiled. His teeth were a little crooked, overlapping on the front, but nothing that made his presence significantly less alluring.

And somehow, they started talking. The man’s name was Clark, and he was a real estate agent. He had just moved to New York a couple months ago, just like Bianca. The conversation carried on smoothly, and eventually, they casually and discretely slipped some waves of laughter out of each other. 

“So what are you doing tonight, Bianca? Anything special planned?”

A shy smile crossed her face as she looked down at her keyboard. “Well, if you count ordering take-out and then walking to Times Square in freezing weather as exciting, yes.”

“Don’t tell me you’re spending it alone,” he said, a concerned look spreading over his face.

“Well, I won’t tell you then,” Bianca chuckled.

“Me and my roommates are throwing a small party tonight at our apartment, heading over to Times Square after, and then going to an after-party.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied shyly. “I just met you, and I don’t know any of your friends either, I don’t wanna be a burden. I’m not a big party person.”

“Nonsense. Give me your phone and text me your address, I’ll pick you up at 9,” Clark handed her his phone. 

After a moment of hesitation, she punched in her number and saved herself.

“Fine,” she said. “Can’t promise I won’t change my mind last minute, though.”

“Sounds fair to me,” he replied with a laugh and started gathering his things.

“Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

“No worries, anytime. No one should spend New Years alone.”

He picked up his stuff and left. Shortly after, Bianca did too.

-----

Bianca gracefully blushed her cheeks pink, when she got interrupted by her phone buzzing: Clark was here.

Her heart threatened to pop out of her chest in shaking motions. Why was she so nervous? Then, the phone started ringing.

“Hello?” she picked up, trying to keep her voice from quivering.

“Hey! I’m so sorry to delay this further, but could I use your bathroom?”

“Yes! I’ll let you in now.” And so she did. A few moments later, a knock on the door. 

“Hi, you look so gorgeous,” Clark said after Bianca opened the door. His body relaxed as he said it as if for a moment, it had forgotten its own needs and impulses.

“Thank you,” Bianca blushed. “The bathroom is right there,” she said, pointing to a door at their left. The apartment was small, so it wasn’t too hard to find. 

He left his wallet and phone on the table at the entrance before heading in. “I always drop these in the toilet, that’s how all my past phones have left me,” he said, a charming smile creeping into his face. 

He shut the door behind him, and Bianca waited outside, strolling around her own apartment as if seeing it for the first time. What did it say about her to a stranger? The beige walls, the postcards hanging from them, the light grey comforter? Did it speak about her soul to someone? Did it whisper?

Her thoughts were interrupted by several buzzing sounds. She turned around and realized they came from Clark’s phone. Who was texting him so much?

Curiosity got the worst of Bianca, and she decided to casually peek. The texts were all from an unknown number, notifications piling on top of the other. The latest caught Bianca’s eye, it was an address. Then, another message followed. “Want it here by midnight. Or else.”

A feeling of dread washed over her body. Something was terribly wrong. Why was Clark receiving these texts? Wasn’t he supposed to be with her at Times Square at midnight? Was it dumb of her to go out with a guy he had just met, alone at night?

The bathroom door opened and startled her, but she tried to contain her surprise as much as she could.

“Are you ready?” Clark asked.

“Yes! Just let me grab my wallet,” Bianca said this as she headed over to her nightstand, knowing full well that her wallet was already in the purse she was holding. Her pepper spray wasn’t, though, and she discretely took it out of her drawer and slipped it in her bag.

They went down to his car, Bianca’s thoughts racing too fast for her to catch up. She forced herself to breathe, to carry a normal conversation. They arrived at an apartment building after a few minutes, and Bianca began to relax. She could hear the music even from outside, everything seemed reasonable. Maybe it was an overreaction, after all, looking too deep into things that didn’t need that much looking into. She had a habit of doing that.

They got into the apartment and went on the elevator, and she watched as Clark punched the 10th-floor button. Then, something caught her eye. He was missing his left earlobe.

“What happened to you there?” she asked, pointing at it.

She saw a flicker of fear in his eyes, leaving them so quick it could’ve never even been there. “It was an accident,” he replied naturally as if there were many things that could casually snap your earlobe away. As soon as she was gonna respond, the elevator doors opened, and she was forced to step out and into the mass of people. 

“I’m gonna get us a drink. Will you be fine waiting here?” Clark asked. Bianca nodded and settled on the couch behind her, watching him walk away to a table full of different bottles and people.

The party had a lot of people for the size of the place, but it wasn’t too big either. Music was blasting loudly, but people were talking without shouting, and some others were dancing. It was a great precursor to the New Year, Bianca thought.

She turned to see Clark talking to some people, holding two red cups in his hands. Some of the people gave her a couple looks as if they knew something she didn’t. A shadow had washed over Clark’s face, and he looked serious for a minute. I’m not drinking whatever he brought me, Bianca thought. There was no way in hell.

When he walked over to her, the seriousness was gone and had been replaced by the usual charming smile. They got caught up in conversation, while Bianca stayed alert to any clues, and pretended to take sips of her drink. 

Clark excused himself to take a call, and even though Bianca realized it was only 11:30 and she was close enough to make it to midnight and head over to Times Square, something in her gut told her not to: she wanted to go home, and she wanted to go now.

She saw him heading back after maintaining the same seriousness on his phone call. She could’ve sworn she also saw a flash of anger at a given moment.

“Hey, I’m really thankful for your invitation,” she started, “but I’m feeling really sick. I have a big headache, and I just want to go home.”

“But it’s almost midnight!” Clark replied. “You’re so close. We’ll leave in about ten minutes for Times Square, and after that, I’ll drive you home myself.”

“Thank you, but I really don’t feel well,” she was scared this would happen. The insistence, the charm. Her gut was yelling at her to get out. “I don’t want to take you away from all this fun or ruin your plans, though. You’ve already done enough. I’ll just Uber.”

“Nonsense. If you really need to go home right now, then I’ll take you and just meet my friends at Times Square after. You live pretty close to there, so it’s not out of the way,” and before she could say anything, he squeezed her hand and said, “let me grab my coat.”

This was not what she had planned, but it was better than nothing. The doubt of if she was overreacting crept back into her head. Clark was kind, he was respectful. Why was she acting crazy?

They went down and got in the car. It was 11:45. They drove into the distance, and Bianca was clutching her pepper spray in her bag. She let her body relax as she spotted the Chinese place that was on the corner of her street, but it tensed up again as she realized they were driving past it and further away.

“My place is back there,” she told him, but he didn’t seem to acknowledge it. “Clark. Where are you taking me? We just passed my place.”

“We’re going to Times Square,” he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He tried to show his usual charming smile, but it died halfway.

“I told you I wanna go home. I don’t care about Times Square anymore.”

He didn’t stop, though. If anything, he went faster. Bianca tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t give in.

“Clark, let me out of here.”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he snapped. “And you better shut up about it, or it won’t go well for you. You’re gonna make someone very rich, and you’re gonna help me stay alive till I can get away.”

“What do you mean? Where are you taking me?”

“See,” he proceeded, caught up in his own narrative, “that girl Stephanie was too much trouble. I guess that’s who he wanted, that’s the important girl. You’re nobody. But if you’re Stephanie, you’re somebody. And I need somebody.”

Suddenly, he jerked the car to a stop when the red light came on, then looked straight at Bianca’s eyes. Where there was once charm, now lay terror. “I made the mistake of getting rid of her because she was annoying and loud. But he doesn’t know that. He just knows he needs her, and they’re looking for her, and he has the power to get the ransom money from notable people. Once they realize you’re irrelevant, I’ll be long gone.”

The car came back to motion.

Bianca’s brain was going a thousand miles per second. How did this happen? But then, she remembered the pepper spray in her bag. She clutched it tightly, and when the car came to a stop again, she sprayed Clark in the face. She fidgeted with the door until she got it open and ran. 

They were close enough to Times Square by now, and she decided the mass of people was the safest place she could be now, blending into other bodies. She regularly checked behind her, terrified he was there, waiting.

It was 11:59

The countdown began.

Ten, nine, eight, seven.

Her body began to relax, telling herself it was foolish to believe he had found her.

Six, five, four.

The New Year was coming, she was right where she wanted. She had escaped.

She would be okay.

Three, two.

A cold hand on her shoulder.

One.

Warm breath on her neck and unintelligible words murmured into her ear.

Then, the screams, and the ball. Zero.

Happy New Year.

January 03, 2020 09:27

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

RBE | We made a writing app for you (photo) | 2023-02

We made a writing app for you

Yes, you! Write. Format. Export for ebook and print. 100% free, always.