No gain without loss
I didn't sleep that night. The only thing I could think about was what happened. The feeling I got when he looked at me, the way I almost fainted, how he almost kissed me. I didn't understand. Was I gay? Is that why I'd never been in a relationship with a girl before, because it was never girls that I was in love with. I had simply assumed that girls were my muse. Nobody ever tells you differently. You just assume that you will be in love with the opposite gender. As I thought this through in my mind I was reminded of a guy who went to my high school. Dave Karofsky his name was. He had a crush on a guy at school but was too scared to do anything about it. When he had finally told someone they spread it around the school and his Dad had found him swinging from the rafters of his bedroom. Luckily he had survived, but he still had to live with it.
Was I going to get to that stage?
Would I attempt to take my own life?
"C'mon Blaine." I said to myself. "That guy was manipulating you." I managed to convince myself for a while until I woke up and would give anything I had to see him again.
"Jee." Sam said when I arrived in the office. "You look like shit. What did the dude in tights do to you?"
"Nothing." I said a little too quickly. I sat at the desk and loaded up my computer.
"ANDERSON!" A voice rang from the office door. I turned to see my boss, Mr Figgins. He had an angry look in his eyes and I quickly searched for what I had done wrong. As I joined him in his own office my curiosity doubled. The newspaper guy from yesterday was sitting in the chair opposite Figgins' chair.
"Anderson, this is Mr Alex Erkhart." Figgins said. The sandy haired stranger stood up and offered me his hand.
"Nice to meet you, again." He smiled as I shook his hand. I gave him a slight nod before turning my attention on to Mr Figgins.
"So… what is it?" I asked.
"I don't know how to tell you this Blaine." He said in a softer voice. I'd been first named, great, that only means bad things.
"Mr Erkhart is your replacement." Figgins said. I froze, confusion showing on my face.
"Wh-what?" I exclaimed in a voice a pitch higher than normal.
"I'm sorry, but your failing in capturing the image of The Mystery and Mr Erkhart knows where to find him."
"I know where to find him!" I shouted without thinking. Mr Figgins and the job thief stared at me. I stormed from the room and punched my hand through the window of Mr Figgins' door. As I left the office and entered the main building I heard cheers from the office. My jaw clenched and I let out a growl of anger.
"Mr Anderson!" A voice called from behind me. "Excuse me- oh sorry- Mr Anderson!" I turned to see Alex Erkhart running down the corridor. There was a mailman scrambling up off the floor after clearly colliding with the tall, sandy-haired guy.
"Piss off." I snapped at him. I turned and tried to walk into the elevator.
"I just wanted to apologise." He said in an elegant, well-spoken way.
"What for?" I said spitefully. "You got my dumb job, I hope it ruins your life as much as it ruined mine." I stormed into the lift and hit the ground level button. I huffed all the way back to Queens and it wasn't until I lit a cigarette and hung out of my window that my hand began to sear with a sharp stabbing pain. I looked at it to see an huge gash from my knuckle to the centre of my hand. Blood had spilt over and dried in a river over my left hand and I felt like it was being pounded by a tennis ball.
"That looks bad." A voice said that made me almost fall out of a window. I looked up to see The Mystery suspended in mid-air with his arms folded and a smirk n his face.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, all the pain and anger evaporated with his arrival.
"I could ear your cry for help from a mile away." He told me.
"I didn't cry for help." I frowned.
"Not physically. But your soul did." A moment of silence crossed us as we had that same feeling, looking into each other's eyes. I had to break it, to return to the reality of life. My hand throbbed causing me to look down.
"Let me look at that." The Mystery said. Floating forward and taking my hand. He landed inside my apartment and led me to the table. It was strange, seeing him sitting at my table with his emblazoned costume. His strong careful hands caressed mine ad he removed the shards of glass and wrapped it in a bandage.
"There we go." He smiled softly. Before I could say anything he walked over to my window and was gone. I stared after him longingly before there was a knock at the door. Lightheaded and saddened I opened the door without checking who it was. I wished that I had because Alex Erkhart stood at my door.
"I'm not in." I said, trying to slam the door on him.
"Wait, Mr Anderson, please." He held the door with surprising strength. My hand stung as I fought his pressure so I let go. I grabbed another cigarette and lit it up. Alex Erkhart admired the photographs I had taken over the years, that hung on my wall.
"I like this one." He said, pointing to a beach scene I had taken in California when I was twelve.
"You have a good eye." He commentated.
"I had a good job too." There was a pause where nothing was said. I looked at him with a waiting expression.
"Why are you here?" I asked after a minute of him admiring my images.
"I'd hate for you to be pissed at me for long." He said.
"So you take my job then come to my house expecting me to make nice with you? I don't think so." I sat at my table and buried my face.
"Ooh, ouch!" Alex Erkhart said as he saw my bandaged hand. "That looks serious."
I admired the perfect wrap that covered my knuckles and the horrid scar.
"Well some asshole took my job so I stopped myself from breaking his face by punching a window." My fist clenched and my muscles tensed as he sat down on the table.
"Look, you're pissed, I get it." He tried to sympathise with me. "I, of all people know how much of a bitch life can be." His deep blue eyes examined mine, waiting for my reaction.
"Is that it? Because I have a job not to go to tomorrow."
"Why are you so spiteful?" He asked calmly. I took a drag from my cigarette before saying;
"I don't have a job, any close family, any friends, my relationships end after the sex and I'll probably be homeless by the end of the week." I shrugged. "Need I go on?" Another pause. Thoughts were flashing through his eyes.
"I'll make a deal with you." He said.
"You'll give me my job back if I let you live here?" I snapped sarcastically.
"Erm, no." he chuckled. "I'll be willing to pay you if you will help me"
"With what?" I asked, forgetting my anger.
"I heard what you said earlier, about knowing The Mystery and I thought, maybe you could help me with the story on him."
"What about Sam?! I shook the attention off myself.
"That idiot!" Alex Erkhart exclaimed. "I'm surprised that guy has stayed on for so long." He scoffed bitterly.
"Hey." I snapped. "Sam's my friend!"
"Sorry, Mr Anderson." He said. He tipped his fed at as if this was the thirties. I frowned before shaking off the creepiness.
"So… are you in?" He waited patiently for my reply. I weighed up my options.
The bad side was that I would be helping this stuck up bastard. But on the positive side I would get money out of it.
"You'll get to see The Mystery again." Alex Erkhart said after my hesitation. I tried not to look too exited but he noticed and gave a half smile
"I'm in." I said simply.
"I look forward to working with you." He smiled and stood up. "I'll see myself out." He tipped his hat again before leaving. The world outside seemed a tiny bit brighter for a while.