Beethoven was probably rolling over in his grave as police sirens mingled with his precious symphony. If he were alive to appreciate the irony of his mangled masterpiece he most likely would've wished to be back in his grave.
Lena sat on a bench in the Meriden Plaza where she'd been working for several months now. If it had been any other person's body laying in the street two months before this she might have pulled out her cigarette and had a good chuckle. As it was he wasn't any other person and she was paralyzed with numbness.
Lena was cold though and through. Her gaze held the power to incapacitate the most vigilant of men as well as the ability to perpetuate an incurable attraction. She was devastatingly beautiful in every aspect. Two frozen blue gems for eyes with a cute button nose and skin paler than milk, she was the epitome of beauty. Yet she lacked a heart.
The scene played before her eyes in slow motion. An ambulance had managed to make its way through the traffic and they were now loading Alexander Burke onto a stretcher. Before that he had lain gutted in the street and a few feet away from his body a bloodied knife.
His arms were limp at his sides. A puddle of crimson lay spattered on his clothes and all over the whitest concrete. His attacker was pinned to the ground one plaza over. A large dent could be seen on the front bender of a police car where they'd intercepted the murderer. Lena merely shook her head.
She waited for the tears, she waited for the anger. All this for a quick fix and there she stood powerless at the hands of fate. This was the first time death had ever entered her life. She shuddered. All this cold heartedness and she'd never had a good enough reason to be in the first place.
Alexander Burke was a contractor who came to the plaza daily. He was a freelance writer searching for talent. It has seemed more of a scam to Lena and the first time he'd shown up in his blue business suit she'd sneered at him. He strode confidently over to her side like a used car salesman ready to sell her the deal of her life. Their first encounter was probably the most memorable.
"What do you want? Are you coming onto me, because I don't date con-artists. I mean honestly, is your only aspiration to cheat people of their money?"
"Why Mrs. Lena, I never said anything of the sort! You are a missus correct?"
"No, I am not… Whatever it is you want, not buying it!"
This dialogue continued like this for several weeks, his habitual harassment and her constant rejection. About three weeks after, Alexander admitted what his honest goal was. Apparently he'd come across an article in the New York Times written by a Lena Gould and now he wanted to hire her to be apart of his team. He was building an industry on truth.
Lena smiled to herself. The conversations that came after their first meeting stood out clearer. Alexander wasn't as bad as she initially thought. He had hopes and dreams. He loved everyone for them, never had a malicious word escaped his lips. He would've been successful he could've been remembered forever. Now he'd lay six feet under without finishing anything he'd started. He'd be remembered by one woman who couldn't even pull it together enough to admit that she cared about him. So, much in fact that this loss was unbearable and she wished she would've run to his side rather than watch the aftermath with coldness.
The world would never know what they had lost. They'd never understand how amazing his soul was. They'd never know how much one person could mean to her and she'd never let them know. Her heart would lay buried with him.
He died for truth, but was scarce. And one day she would die for beauty only to discover they were one and the same. When both their names were covered with moss, beauty and truth would be more than just words and maybe then Lena would let go. But for now Alexander would be her secret and no one would ever learn of this first encounter with death or her first encounter with fate.