CHRIS
I violently jump out of my bed, completely covered in sweat, desperately struggling to catch a breath. I’m awake and yet I’m not able to quiet the voices in my head. All I can hear is cheers from other prison inmates as the head of their gang rips me open with a knife, like it’s the last thing he needs to do in his life, and killing me is his only conquest. The familiar scene is what yanked me out of my sleep. I sit at the edge of my bed, and hover over the scars that are now covered with tattoos and well hidden. The dream ends like it always does. As I’m losing consciousness and all I can feel below my lifeless body is the warmth of blood, her face comes to my mind. “I love you, Chris,” is what she says before I’m lost completely. I still don’t know how I came out of it alive. It was a fucking miracle, though sometimes I wonder if there is a reason the universe wanted me to live.
I get up and walk towards the open window of my new apartment. This is my first night sleeping here. Brooklyn is crowded and loud even though it’s the middle of the night. This truly is the city that never sleeps. I might look for a different apartment once I settle in, somewhere outside of the city. The noise is too much and I’ve already been struggling with nightmares. I walk to the bathroom and splash ice cold water over my face, staring at my own reflection in the mirror. My beard has grown and I look older than I really am. I’ve always looked older, but my time spent in prison made the aging process much faster. To me, life was a bitch and that bitch always knew where and how to hit hard. Each hit left me with visible scars, some of them well engraved in a rusty look.
Damn, I need to recover. I shouldn’t blame it all on life though; the last few years, the cards life dealt have been pretty good. Up until today, I’ve been living in Boston where I started working as a waiter in one of the restaurants downtown. I worked so hard I was promoted to a manager and was offered a new position in New York. The restaurant franchised and the owner, Jack, only trusted me to do the work and open a new place here. I thought change would suit me and agreed to his proposal. I want to build business the same way it is in Boston. People love Giacomo’s and the atmosphere is always friendly and the restaurant has a family feeling to it. All the workers there get along great, and I intend to build the same community here.
I always knew she wanted to live in New York, and I know she planned on going to college here. I lie to myself that my acceptance of the job in New York has nothing to do with the fact she might be living here. My Hailey.
***
Morning came way too quickly and just as I started getting some proper sleep, my alarm went off. Sure, I could allow myself to come in late—I’m the boss, after all—but I won’t do that. Jack was the only one who was ready to give me an opportunity when I got out of prison. Every fucking job application asks the same question, and I couldn’t lie: Yes, I was in prison. I will forever be grateful to him, and in return, I intend to do a damn good job. This restaurant is all he has, and it’s all I have too.
I’m not surprised of the amount of people storming around the streets as I walk out of the building. I jump into my car and drive to the restaurant. As soon as I enter it, I’m overwhelmed with excitement.
“It looks good, doesn’t it?” Lesley, my assistant manager asks, just as excited.
“Morning Les.” I give her a quick kiss on the cheek and she giggles. “Ready to work hard?”
My best friend, Lesley is more like a sister to me.
“Did I tell you I really appreciate you moving to New York?” I ask.
“You have, too many times. No need to thank me, this will be a great adventure. Now, are you ready to prepare everything for the opening?”
“Hell, yes. Let’s do this. I plan to have an official opening in two weeks time.”
“I know we can do it,” she confirms. “You look tired. Are you okay?”
“I didn’t sleep so well. I think I’ll need time to adjust to the city noise.”
“It will take some time to get used to it all. Have you ever lived in a small town?”
I can’t help but think about Wellfleet. I was a tenant in Hailey’s dad’s loft. The flat was too small, but I loved it. Mostly because she would sneak into my bed in the middle of the night. All I see are images of all the kisses we exchanged, all the hiding and all the drama that came with it. The girl made me lose my mind. But as many good times as there were, the bad times were much stronger, and eventually bad times prejudged to us.
“Chris? Are you okay?” Les wakes me out of my daydream.
“I did, I lived in a very small town. Not for too long, maybe three months. Anyway, I’m going to grab some coffee,” I say, walking out of the conversation.
Lesley is my best friend, but she doesn’t know the whole story. She knows some parts of it and knows I’ve been in prison. She also knows I like women, and I’m not keen on relationships. I’ve lied so many times and said I was never in love. I was once. It was the first and last time. I have no intentions going through it again.