"You think I'm gonna comply just like that?" Curt asked, snapping his fingers.

"Why not? You won't regret me." Rhea pleaded. "Besides, how's another fling with a slut gonna hurt you? What number am I, anyway?"

Curt laughed. "I have to admit, you're an amusing conversationalist."

"I can be more amusing if you let me."

(----------)

In the time that Curt first spent with Rhea, she managed to sum up her life decently. Unlike the typical conception of prostitutes, she actually originated from a family that was fairly wealthy and considerably well-known, at least, around where they lived. Curt had never heard of them.

She said that she had tutors, but even though she was taught at home, she said she wished she had a way of dropping out. Eventually, it was the tutoring that caused her to drop out, in a way. Openly, she described her relationship with her science tutor to Curt. He was seven years her senior but she said that he treated her like an "equal." When they were sure that they were alone, they would take their chances. She joked that whenever that happened, she would definitely learn more than "the solar system and whatnot." Those rendezvous only lasted until she became pregnant. She lost her child but she was still disowned and written out of the family will. Too distraught to stay home or live with the tutor, she left alone. Ever since, she had been "performing," as she liked to call it. At times she got singing gigs here and there, but most often she'd be hustling herself in the streets.

(----------)

"Do I have to tell you my history?" Curt asked, after hearing the finishing touches of Rhea's.

"No. I've had enough of it from the tabloids, actually."

"Good. Save me the trouble."

A strange feeling of bewilderment came over Curt when he took the time to look around him. He and Rhea were no longer in the dimly lit room, but outside, in the sunshine.

"Hey, do you always tell strangers your life-story?" Curt asked again.

"Just the ones I like." Rhea smiled. "Anyway, you're no stranger."

"Right. I forgot you lived on the streets. You know everyone." he spurted. He couldn't help but feel sorry for saying it afterwards. Luckily, Rhea took no offense in it, or appeared not to. She said nothing in return.

It grew louder everywhere. They were walking along a riverside park. Curt saw a multitude of people past Rhea's silhouette. Except when performing, Curt never did learn to like crowds. He was a selective loner. He would've rushed past the park if he was alone. But not today, not when something good was happening to him. He simply couldn't shake his head at Rhea's smiling eyes. So off they went, with Curt softly sighing.

Balloons flew off all over the place. There were carts of food rolling around. Kids were trying to feed the ducks in the river, throwing bits of whatever they had in hand and hitting the animals on their heads. It was obviously a special day, which neither Curt nor Rhea knew about.

Neither of them was hungry either, so they just walked throughout the place. They drifted from tent to tent and booth to booth. Curt observed Rhea and marveled at her ability to engage anyone in conversation. She seemed to be at incredible ease, and not one person itched to leave once she started to talk to them.

While Rhea talked to one of the men who operated the food carts, Curt's vision strayed away. His eyes meandered to a little boy who wore a sailor outfit. He was held captive of amusement. The toddler's little limbs jutted out of the sleeves and pant-legs perfectly. Meticulous detail and embroidery flattered the fit of the miniature suit. Curt looked closer and saw the child's face. Wild green eyes and short, reddish-brown waves of hair met him. Even higher, his eyes dared to look. There walked a woman beside the boy, accompanying him. She wore a suit of her own, clinging to her every curve. And then, on a folded collar was a gem. It looked so much like the pin that Brian gave Curt a lifetime ago, which he in turn, gave away also. He was disappointed to think that the person he gave it to could let go of it so easily, if indeed, that was the pin. At least he had his reasons for letting it pass his possession. He almost wanted to stop the pair of mother and son to have a better look at the jewel, but he remembered Rhea. Where had she gone?

(----------)

Dragging the air about him, Curt spun around fully, wanting to be confronted by the image of Rhea, but she wasn't there. His searching gaze wove in between bodies in the throng, staring down every walking vessel that bore a resemblance to her. Nothing. He wished he could part the sea of people to make it easier.

He began to walk, still keeping a lookout. All the while he was having an inner argument with himself. He still had his doubts. Rhea was just a hair away from being a complete stranger. So she told him her life-story. What of it? It was probably embellished or diluted, maybe even totally untrue. For all he knew, she could have fabricated a memoir for each of her customers. Whatever it may have been, it didn't help to make him feel closer to her. It merely left him thirsting for something, and wondering whether he should quell that thirst or not.

Slight hatred for himself rocked Curt's indecision further. He would always be ticked at the fact that he trusted people so easily, no matter how much he disliked them. Rhea hadn't exactly professed a love for him, but she dangled traces, facets of herself, for him to chase after. But she was missing at the moment. What could she possibly be playing at? She couldn't have just left him without so much as a goodbye when she was the one who dragged him there.

At present, that wasn't important. Curt ran towards the river, towards a girl standing by its edge. With quite a distance from her, he stopped and leaned in, only to realize that it wasn't Rhea. Actually, the profile appeared more to him to be Mandy's. That made him feel stupid, uneasy. Trusting what he didn't see, he dismissed the thought and moved on, not caring to look behind.