Chapter Six: Did You Remember, when we met?
Part One: I did.
Five years and then some had passed since Holly last set foot on the college campus. The night of Stacey's death and the start of her work as an assistant to the Falcone family's steward, August Haas.
It had been a long half a decade. Holly all but vanished from Gotham's day-to-day life, it was too easy to go missing in this city. No one looked for Beth just like they did not look for Holly. The woman had not wanted them to either, it would just prove she was a dropout and had fallen in with the wrong crowd. A failure. Only once did she go to the police to declare she was not a missing person when her former college housemates put in the report. Holly wondered less and less as time passed what had ever happened to her other housemates; they likely lived on with a little less partying in their lives. Maybe Jennifer and Meldoy finally kissed? Probably got degrees too without Stacey and her no-nerd-shit rule. They never found Stacey... she apparently moved out of state with a lover. A lover that lived under the deep blue sea.
Holly had continued to see Vinny along with George from time to time, both struggling with the line between family and dreams of their own. She even had a simple short-lived romance with George, parting as kind of friends. Mario ended up leaving Gotham for a better medical school and was still doing that as far as she knew. And James, oh she enjoyed it when James found out she knew he was fucking that law professor. Holly had the a-okay from August to leak that little rumor after James openly disrespected the steward, calling him a glorified bookie. James Russo was quietly expelled and went to work with daddy in the butcher shop on 7th.
Vincent had grown old and his son Carmine came fully into leading the family. The Ruthless Roman, many called him, was seizing a vice hold over Gotham all the while feuding with the Maroni family and juggling a weird friendship with the Wayne orphan, checking in on the young boy from time to time without ever letting the young boy know. Until the young man grew enough to have himself go missing from Gotham to study at Princeton. Probably to run away from it all in reality.
Gotham had been in rapid decline since the death of the Waynes, it was bad before she came to Gotham apparently but now it felt like the city was staring over the edge and about to start freefalling into oblivion if something did not save it soon.
Right this very moment though Holly stood on the solid sidewalk after getting out of a black car, looking into the daydream distance, holding the door open for another. She'd not noticed August already exited the car, walked past her, and was waiting on her to lead the way.
"Kingsley." He spoke to pull her out of the daze.
"Hm?... Sorry Mister Haas, coming." she pushed the car door shut allowing the driver to go park. Shifting the binders and folders in her arms to hold them without her clutch bag that rested atop them digging into her chest, she spoke, "It's just rather nostalgic for me to be here." She could not help to look at the buildings to see how much if anything changed. There was some new paint, otherwise, the old buildings retained their rustic vibes.
"Nostalgia. Rare for you." He ideally mused and entertained her ramblings on what seemed different about the place as they walked towards the lecture hall.
August Haas was a well-known figure among many entrepreneurs and small businesses even before Holly began her work for him. He held an expert insight into making even the tightest budgets stretch, legally, of course. His book, 'A Man of Copper Coins,' was trending among corporate tycoons and being passed around by some of the largest corporations at the present time. The university had invited him to speak as a local influence to the aspiring business students as he came from nothing himself. He flat refused at first but when the aged Vincent told him it would be good for the Falcone's public image, August agreed without further protest. Holly only along for the ride as the assistant she still was.
They reached the lecture hall and began setting up a projector, one she took from another building over. She'd jumped several times to the mild entertained bemusement of August, to pull the screen down behind the podium. Holly laid out his speaking materials and put the slides in place as they were needed so that he could flip them when ready. Afterward, as students started finding their way to the lecture she excused herself into the hallway. August began without her and she stayed leaned against the AC-cooled wood panel.
Several minutes passed in mostly silence, she could hear a bit of the lecture through the door, sometimes the occasional person trodden past. The woman grabbed a cigarette and a lighter from her clutch which was tucked next to her body with an elbow as she went to light up. Holly inhaled the moment the flame lit the tip of the stick. A long drag followed by a long exhale. The back of her head pressed against the wall and her eyes closed. She did not like being here in truth, she'd settled into her new life and all this place had ever done was thrust her into change. A place that forced her to uncomfortably adapt. Well, maybe that was the point of a place for higher learning. Holly held the cigarette while taking another long inhale then she moved it away. Her eyes opened lazily to stare blankly. There were red marks left from her lipstick on the orange filter end. She was not fond of the shade.
"You're not a student, are you?" As she did not answer and they spoke up again, "There's no smoking in the buildings anymore."
Every place was growing more and more aware of the dangers cigarette smoke caused, not really for people's safety that said it was certainly more for their expensive construction costs and public image.
She took another drag then put the cigarette out against the wall. Holly held it up between two fingers for them to see as if to say, 'There you go.' Resisting the urge to cheekily flip him the bird at the same time. She'd eye him over while breathing out the smoke slowly. The man who had spoken was tall, thin and tired looking not unlike her employer August. Certainly not as old as August, rather closer to her age just going by first impressions. A mop of brown hair combed out of his face, large round glasses perched on a pointed nose and blue hues like a frightful autumn frost. Holly's brows knitted, "Sorry, do I know you?"
"Doubtful. Are you with the current lecturer?" He skillfully navigated the change of topic.
And she didn't fight it, "I'm Mister Haas's assistant, Holly. I wouldn't recommend going in, you've missed over half by the sound of it." She pointed with the cigarette hand towards the door.
He paused thoughtfully, "I see," his eyes shifted from her to the door then back to her, "I require that projector to teach my class tonight, unfortunately, it seems someone assumed it would be fine to take mine and leave a ridiculous note in its place while I happened to be out." He held up a small sticky note with a poorly drawn snowman cartoon that had a speaking bubble: 'LH3.'
"Well. Fuck." She breathed the two words not louder than a whisper. Her voice laced with that customer service tone as she spoke next, "I'll move it when we're finished here. I used to attend GU, which room does it go to?" She had a very, very, good idea of where it belonged and had not planned on returning it.
It seemed he weighed the choice of waiting or not for a moment, "Out those two doors at the end of the hall, straight across to building nineteen with the blue doors. Third room on the left once you're inside," He gave directions rather than leaving it up to her former knowledge, "I'll be waiting." He turned toward those double doors and was swiftly through them moments later.
The way he told her he'd be waiting gave her a knot in her stomach as if she'd just been threatened. Over a projector no less.
There were no longer many people in Gotham that did that to her, not after running with the Falcone's and their questionable work habits. As Gotham fell over the years it had seen crime increases that dominated charts of the nation and they had to start reminding upstarts who ruled the underworld. Not that Holly ever got her hands truly dirty, no she just stayed in the back with Mister Haas having to watch or listen. She'd started flinching at the sound of gunshots echoing from tense silence because of it.
Even so, every lowlife scum in this city was a tough guy that could threaten a woman in this new decade and she'd heard a lot of empty threats with far more colorful language meant to make her quake with fear from vastly bigger men. Holly had literally been spit on, made a mockery of, and endured plenty of sexist pigs to last her a lifetime in just the last few years. She'd been shot in the leg getting caught in a gang war crossfire, had a knife to her throat more than once, and once was too many times. She'd been faced with the metaphorical wolf den itself to deliver a message to Maroni's goons that was just Carmine taking a piss on them in letter form. So she thought that only dangerous individuals gave her that feeling, while angry men that belonged in a Sunbucks line posturing up after she cut to the front got her middle finger. Asshole professors would fall into that category normally too.
Though there were always exceptions to that rule... a gun to the back was easy for anyone, even a child, to pull the trigger of. Holly had simply gotten a little wiser about trusting her gut rather than walking around like an innocent doe in front of hungry wolves. Holly was by no means a badass, she woke in the middle of the night often now in fright. She shook under her pretty clothes at the sight of police that followed her just a little too long for comfort, and her overall attitude was a mess of anxious emotions being twisted into what she thought other people wanted to see just to get through the day. Holly knew this but pretended it away with pills, cigarettes, and booze to the point she was blissfully ignoring that she was walking into oblivion along with the rest of Gotham's residents falling prey to the wills of those in higher social positions.
Once the lecture started wrapping up Holly opened the door, getting a few looks from those within. She slid fully into the room. Waiting against the door with her hands behind her back until August turned off the projector, "Thank you all for your time." Ever polite even if he did not mean an ounce of it.
She flicked the light on to the mild protest of some and moved to his side rather than block the door to begin packing up, "The owner of the projector found my note." She spoke flatly after a few minutes of contemplative silence.
Mister Haas peered at her from the underside of his thick glasses while he helped her to organize the slides into the correct order within their case, "You're going to return it?" By now he knew how Holly acted and she certainly did not bother to return stolen property let alone borrowed objects. She still to this day had a pair of his socks from three years ago. Her head nodded once and Haas took the binder from her hands, "Then you should apologize too, offer to buy them a coffee."
She scowled at the thought, "Mister Haas, we have places to be. Like seeing to the release of Falcone from Blackgate, which is far more important than coffee with a stranger."
"Carmine is not going anywhere. I'll have Tony wait for you." For fuck sake, Holly thought, he was treating Carmine's incarceration like a child put in timeout - as much as it was a slap on the wrist from the justice department - and like he was going to treat her as a kid too for the rest of his years. Be that as it may, if he said jump she was supposed to do it even if it was off a building to the streets below. Honestly, Holly knew she had a soft spot for the phlegmatic old codger if not just out of a social sense to respect her elders. She would just return the equipment to the door it belonged, take a smoke break outside then leave telling August that they refused coffee. A good simple plan.
Out the double doors, across to the next building, and three doors down later she wheeled the equipment to outside its former home. Then she turned to leave. Getting all of two feet before letting out a soft groan and turning around with a steeling breath. Well. Fuck, Holly thought. August would know she lied to him, he always did.
Turning the knob and pushing the projector into the room she spoke with a flip of her hand in the air as the laziest wave she could give, "Hey," that professor was sitting at a desk scooted into the far corner of the room, the screen for the projector was already down and waiting, "... I brought your projector back." She promptly left it inside and turned to leave, her willpower fading as embarrassment flooded in. Like a kid caught stealing in the cookie jar, she did not want to admit fault for taking his things without asking. She'd suffer August's disapproval instead.
"Thank you, Miss Kingsley."
"Yeah, you're-" welcome? Her heart felt like it stopped then beat hard once in her chest. The word 'welcome' was lost in her throat and it felt like she was choking on it. Holly stopped dead in her tracks turning her head over a shoulder. She didn't tell this man her surname.
He had not looked up, even as she eyed him over again. He continued to read a typed paper by flipping it over from where it had been stapled several times, "I would appreciate it if you closed the door, the air conditioning is limited in its functionality within this building."
Holly backed up a step looking down to where the door hovered on its hinges millimeters above ground and tapped it with her foot lazily. It was heavy and creaked forwards. Using her hand to close it the rest of the way. Then she set upon him with all the curiosity of a cat trying to see how many more lives it had.
"I'm fairly busy at the present," he finally looked up over the rims of his glasses after marking a large red X at the top of the lengthy paper, "was there something further you required?"
It had to be, Holly thought. Having gotten taller perhaps, a few more lines to his face for sure, and a new set of round brown framed glasses. Her hands pressed flat upon the desk and she leaned into his personal space. He immediately leaned back, scowling, "Wow," bitterness blended with genuine intrigue from her, "teaching rather than tutoring students now are you, Crane?"
Like It Had Been Yesterday
He had not been sure at first, after all nearly six years had passed since he'd seen the woman.
Jonathan could recall the days when he interacted with the servile freshmen, she always had this look like a dead tired mousy-muppet wearing oversized sweaters and tube socks. However, the woman before him now seemed like a more societally put-together muppet, a business casual woman that hid her lack of sleep under makeup and that wore impractical footwear. He'd have never been able to have picked her out from a crowd if it came to it.
It was indeed like looking at an entirely different person. Especially with her attitude being semi-hostile toward him for informing her that she couldn't smoke inside. He was inwardly debating if he did know her or if it was just a trick of the mind, just a woman who resembled perhaps. Yet, when she spoke her name, he knew. Holly Kingsley had not been left to the fate of being turned into gourmet fish food.
