Wedding Pictures and Wine Bottles

"Candles? Check. Rose petals? Check. Ring?' Leo looked around frantically. "Shit, where's the ring?! Maya's going to be here in ten minutes and I don't have the ring!" The shrilling of the kitchen's smoke alarm pulled Leo's attention to the kitchen. Smoke billowed from the oven as Leo opened it. The chicken was charred and dry, unsalvageable.

Setting the remaining dishes on the table, Leo remembered the most important element that was going to make this night special. He went into his closet, unlocked the safe subtly hidden behind his suits, and pulled out a vintage bottle of wine. He had been saving this bottle since he was a teenager, since he learned the story of how his parents met. On a late night in Tenderloin, Manhattan, also known as Hell's Hundred Acres, his father stopped on a street corner, drunk and looking for a good time. To most it wasn't a romantic story. Leo's father picked up a good looking lady on a Friday night, and on Sunday morning they were married in a rundown chapel next door to a liquor store. The night of their wedding, Leo's father pulled out this same bottle of wine, the same one that his father before him pulled out, and toasted to his new love. A strange love, it was. But twenty-five years later they were still in love, and now so was Leo.

A knock on the door pulled Leo out of his thoughts. "Coming!" he yelled. As one hand straightened his shirt and tie, the other unlocked the door. There, standing in the doorway, was the most beautiful, intellectual woman he'd ever seen. "Maya, I'm so glad you're here. Come in, please, have a seat." Leo tried to stop smiling so hard, so he took her hand and tried to lead her in. When he realized she wasn't moving, he turned to face her. "Maya?" he asked. "Is everything okay?"

She pulled her hand away from his, looked at him angrily, and said, "No, Leo. Everything is not okay. What the hell is all of this!?" She motioned to the candlelit dinner and phonograph playing an old ballad.

Stunned, Leo stepped back to collect himself. "What do you mean? What's wrong with a nice dinner? Just the two of us?"

Maya groaned. "Leo, there is no such thing as 'just the two of us.' You know who I am, and you know what I do. You know that I don't just belong to you."

"But Maya," Leo could feel the tears of truth stinging his eyes. "It could be like that. You could stop, you could quit, and I can take care of you. I can take care of us! I love you, okay? A-and I know that we," he motioned back and forth between them. "We are meant to be together! Just like my mom and my dad, okay? We're just like them, we're meant to be together." Coming over here, Maya knew this was going to be difficult. But she also knew that the only way to be effective was to make sure that Leo knew that they were never going to happen. At this point, Leo was on the verge of sobbing, clutching his head, and muttering "we were meant to be," over and over.

"Leo," Maya started, touching his arm softly. Suddenly, he snapped up and grabbed her arms.

"We were meant to be together Maya! We were meant to be!" He roughly shook her while screaming. She tried to release herself from his grasp, kicking and flailing.

"Damn it, Leo! We are not meant to be! I am a prostitute, okay? I sell sex for a living, you know that! And you've been so hellbent on using me for your twisted little fantasy of marrying a hooker that you've been ignoring the goddamn reality! I don't love you, and you don't love me! You don't know me! I don't even know how in the hell you got my number! We spent one night with each other, but we are not together." She tried to soften her tone toward then, to lessen the blow. Watching Leo dejectedly fall to the floor, she picked up her purse and headed out. "I'm sorry, Leo. But as far as I'm concerned, between us, there's nothing." She turned away from him and began to walk out the door, as the sharp glint of a knife disappeared into her shoulder.

Leo had made his way off the floor and to the front door, grabbing the knife from the kitchen counter in the process. Pulling it out of her shoulder, Leo watched Maya collapse in the doorway, groaning in pain. Grabbing her legs, he dragged her back into his apartment, stuffing a towel in her mouth to prevent her endless screams from being heard. Leo crouched down next to her as she writhed on the floor. Dragging the knife along her torso, he contemplated his next move. Her eyes widened in fear, unsure of what would happen next. The same smile that adorned Leo's face earlier was now twisted in a sick, sadistic manner. "I guess you'll think twice about what you say to me now, hmm?" Maya frantically shook her head yes, desperate to comply with Leo. He sat her up in the chair set out for her at the dinner table. "Stay put now." As Leo disappeared into his bedroom, Maya grabbed the knife from the table and stumbled her way into the room. She was in shock from what she was met with: her own image staring back at her. The walls of Leo's bedroom had been plastered with pictures of her. Some were from her social media pages, and others were taken of her from the street corner. He had developed an obsession, a dangerous obsession, and she knew there was only one way out. Peeking into the closet where he was, Maya saw the stash of cash in his safe. The plan was to sneak up behind him, stab him, call the cops, and make off with the money.

"Shit," she whispered. That stab wound was starting to hurt like a bitch. Leo rounded the corner and saw her standing there.

"Give me the knife Maya." he said calmly. She extended her arm out, not in surrender, but in defense.

"Come any closer and I'll slit your throat Leo! I'm warning you, get the hell away from me!" Maya's words had no effect on Leo as he continued to take slow steps towards her. She could tell he was losing his cool, though. Her eyes darted towards the front door as she contemplated making a run for it.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you," he taunted. "Unless you're up for a game of hide and seek?" Growing impatient, Leo charged Maya, landing on top of her. They wrestled for dominance as he seized the knife from her, and managed to stab her once again, this time in her side. She clutched her stomach with one hand, and dragged him back down with the other while he attempted to stand up. Blood poured onto her hand, clutching the knife as she drove it into his abdomen. Maya shoved his body off of her, wanting to make a run for the door. All she could do was lie there and nurse her wounds, praying that someone, a neighbor, anyone had heard them and was getting helped. Leo dragged himself across the floor, leaving a metallic-scented trail of blood behind him to his bedroom. He reached up and knocked a framed picture from his nightstand. Another strange image of Maya, only this time, her face was pasted onto a woman's body wearing a flowing white dress, standing next to Leo in a black suit with a crisp bowtie. This was all he had left of his dream, gazing at a wedding picture that was never going to be real. All he had was this picture, Maya's lifeless body and that vintage bottle of wine.