"And just where were you last night?"
"Out!"
"I'll say it again, out where?" Monika growled impatiently. This wasn't the first time her sister had done this to her, and if she knew her well, it most certainly would not be the last.
Maria groaned at the harshness of Monika's voice, rubbing her temples. "Out at Isabella's hen night…" She hissed and dived beneath the covers of her bed as her sister threw open the curtains. "Her wedding's on next week, remember?"
"I know."
"By the way, she told me you never RSVP'd—"
"I know."
"Well she did well for herself. Got herself a decent man I have to say. Rich Italian, big family and a trust fund…"
"I don't care." Monika replied blankly, "And I don't want you staying out this late in future without telling me. Got it?"
"Ooh, someone's a little jealous!" Maria teased in a sing-song voice, poking her head out.
"Of the hen party? You know I don't like that sort of thing."
"No, of Isa's man!" The sister grinned cheekily, twirling a long strand of blonde hair, glowing white in the direct sunlight. "And excuse me, I'm older than you! I can do just as I please."
"Forty-two and still partying like an eighteen year old college girl. You sound mature, don't you?"
"Hey, you're forty as well… so I'll take that as a compliment!"
Monika smiled condescendingly, scraping a chair against a floor loudly on purpose. "I'm sorry; I must have said it wrong." She replied, sitting down at the make-up table.
Maria scowled, unable to retort. She snickered at the sight of Monika attempting to powder and rouge her pale face. "Who's all that dolling-up for then?"
"None of your business." She said flatly, curling her eyelashes carefully.
"Well scoot over once you're done, I'm meeting Roderich in an hour or so."
"Oh no you aren't, you lost your key!"
"So?" Maria finally pushed herself out of bed, crumpling the sheets on purpose.
"I'm going out so you have to watch the house."
"Alright, I guess Roderich's staying the night then."
Monika grimaced at her sister, as if she smelled something foul. "You're disgusting, you know that?"
"Ah, but you know that you love me still." Maria smirked at her uptight sister.
"Only because I have to."
Why did Monika bother wasting her time and money like this? It was worthless anyway, an hour of stuffing her plump body into snug-fitting clothes, half an hour of make-up and combing her pixie cut added to forty-five minutes full of colicky babies and neurotic mothers paired with white-collar workers commuting all the way to Berlin. Monika wasn't a commuter; she certainly wasn't a mother or a wife and doubted she ever would become one this late in her life. She could only ever stay on that train for one stop, if only for the feeling of butterflies in her stomach and whirlwinds in her head when-
"May I see your ticket please?"
Monika shook her head out from a daydream and swivelled her head to face the ticket collector. How did those she move around so fast without her noticing this time? She really had to stop her mind wandering like that, but how could she help it? Monika felt as though she could stare into those gorgeous eyes forever, such an intense brown…
"Sorry, can you hear me?"
Monika blinked. Had she been staring into open space like some sort of gaping idiot?
"I-I'm so sorry, here you go…" She stammered, presenting the neatly-folded ticket with trembling hands.
"It's fine." The ticket collector smiled at her, effectively melting any sort of doubts she had about her inner turmoil. They had only ever spoken less than one hundred words to each other yet she was sure she was in love. Deeply at that. In love with the ticket collector of the Berlin-Hamburg train, route 451.
A sigh was let out at the ticket, "That's the last time I'll ever see one of those." Monika found her ticket being handed back to her with gloved hands.
"One of w-what?" She asked, suddenly self-conscious. Was that remark about her appearance? Her age? Thinking her tight pencil skirt was a mistake, Monika suddenly became aware of her protruding speckled calves. She blushed furiously.
The other woman shrugged, "A ticket from the stop you came from. That's closing; the first stop will be the second by next week."
Monika felt her heart sink down into her stomach. Her throat ran dry as she blinked away welling tears. "Oh." She croaked. "That's... a shame."
"Yeah, but you're the only person I see who gets on this train from here! You could always use the next stop up if you were really desperate."
Monika suddenly became interested in her feet, shaking her head. "Not an option." She whispered.
"Oh, well I bet you'll find another way to get there!" The other smiled, "They say when God closes a door, he opens a window. Or in this case, the planning commissioners..."
Witty. Oh how she'd miss that clever tongue! Monika dared not to look back up, the redness of her eyes contrasting with the watery blue of her irises. No, no she wasn't going to cry on the train like this. She should wait until she got home.
"Do you mind if I keep this half of your ticket?"
Momentarily forgetting her promise, she swivelled her head back up. "What for?"
The collector shrugged, "For my memory's sake. I get too attached to my routes!"
The corner of the woman's mouth twitched, "Of course, I have no use for it..." She said, her voice thick and bitter.
"Thank you!" Another smile was flashed Monika's way, "Keep yours too, you never know who'd want the full thing as a collectors' item!"
Monika hesitated, before smoothing out the folds of the ticket with her thumb and placing it in her wallet.
"Well, we're stopping now. This is your stop, right?"
"Unfortunately." Placing her wallet back into her bag as she spoke, she found herself wondering how her routine was so well-known to her.
The woman pressed a kiss to Monika's cheek out of courtesy, "Well, I'll see you later!"
"Unlikel-." Her speech was interrupted by the gesture. She felt her face grew hot and red, and her speech fell silent.
"The sentiment's the same, Ms. Beilschmidt."
Monika's brow furrowed, confused as to the knowledge of her name and suddenly finding the will to speak again. "It's Monika, and I never learned your name..."
"Felicia, Felicia Vargas." The other woman grinned and lead her to the train exit. "Don't wear it out."
Monika nodded, her upper lip curling into a smile. "Beautiful name." She added, before stepping off. "Beautiful woman" her mind added.
"Thanks!" Felicia waggled her gloved fingers, tipping her uniform hat before sliding the door shut as the train decided to selfishly speed off.
Monika was left watching, standing on the platform.
Alone.
Her poor, frail heart was still pounding from her cheek being pecked. Did she really just do that? Did she really just let a person she loved slip away like sand through an hourglass? Why didn't she at least ask for her number?
Oh yes, she was a coward by definition. In every sense of the word and its synonyms.
She shortly found herself back at home, deaf to her sister's complaints, criticisms and jabs. She wished, and wished she could have plucked up some confidence to see Felicia. She wouldn't even dare though. Her life was set in stone by now.
Monika Beilschmidt, the outsider by choice.