Striptease, Motorcycle and Murders

This Saturday morning, while I was on leave, I went out to paint the spiral steps of my new apartment, a sunny yellow hue.

''She's a dancer, apparently.'' I had the sentence of my neighbor in mind, when I saw her.

She's at the end of the street, on foot, with a man. She argues with him. He squeezes her arm and pushes her. She collapses on the sidewalk, and hits her head, in a dull noise.

As the man walks away, I run down the stairs to see if his condition requires medical attention.

I'm standing straight in front of her. She reminds me of my sister, with her long blonde hair and black eyeliner. I wonder what to do, and I stand there, frozen in time and space.

There doesn't seem to have been any bloodshed, but the descent was brutal. Her bare legs, of a pale tint, but covered with sidewalk dust, suggests that she has been walking for quite a while. I don't have a car either.

She opens her eyes, grimacing and rubbing her head.

- Ouch!

-I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you want me to call an ambulance?

-Never mind. I'll get over it. she said, wincing in pain

She sits on the sidewalk. Head in hands. As I was about to leave, she said:

-You are the neighbor opposite, han? I saw you move in. You know, I would like you to stay with me for a few minutes, to make sure I don't pass out. If you want, I have clothes at home that I don't wear anymore, and...

And, she continued to talk without interruption for quite a while. Sometimes I lost myself in his ideas. She reminded me of myself. I had had a rather rebellious adolescence, and although I had calmed down over the years, his Rock'n'Roll air reminded me of a part of me that I could not repress.

I enter his apartment. The decor is extra! Black furniture contrasts with neon lights and a pole, which is the main attraction of the living room. Facing a gigantic flat-screen television is an L-shaped sofa. Several rock band canvases as well as handmade paintings, flamboyantly colored, are displayed on the walls. Further on, in her bedroom, there is, near the four-poster bed with long pink ribbons, a large walk-in closet.

She throws clothes at me, blindly.

She changes in front of me, without shame, just like her rather explicit speech. She tells me that her job pays off, but that she is often at the end of men like the one this morning, a client at the bar who thought he could do anything. She explains to me that it is a friend of a friend who insisted on having sex with her.

We spend nearly two hours trying on clothes and chatting to get to know each other.

She says that she is an orphan and that despite her rather social work, she spends a lot of time painting, alone. The aspiring designer that I was, the artist in the making, recognized in her face a human scene of tasteful Background art.

The second bedroom of his house is a painting studio. We have several points in common, whether it's an interest in the arts, fashion or the desire to have fun. I have to admit, I like to party.

It's special when two people who fit so well meet. It's like a love at first sight of friendship. With her, it really seemed to fit.

After a while, she tells me she has to take a nap, because she has a work number tonight, and she didn't sleep yesterday. I slip away.

The clock reads 11:30. While enjoying an impromptu dinner, I notice the contrast between her home and my home. There is hardly any here.

I contemplate myself in front of the mirror. My wardrobe has two mirrors, one on each door. I turn on myself, with my new sequined dress...

The week passed without news from my neighbor. I must say that our meeting fascinated me. There was something in his eyes, like a spark that made me believe that we would become great friends...

Friday. I uncork a bottle of wine that I bought at the convenience store. Ah! Young adult life. I sit on the chair on the porch, waiting for my sister to join me. Tonight we go out, and I really want to seduce. I put on the super sparkly dress and put some fare on my cheek. My long golden hair is decorated with an Egyptian-patterned clip. I'm wearing an anklet, like someone's gonna notice.

We go out to a fancy bar, and my sister introduces me to some of her friends. I'm dancing with a handsome, tanned man. The temperature rises.

Around 11:30 am, I see Chloé, who gives me a big wave. She invites us to join her at the dancer's bar, at midnight, when she begins her number. Without observing her too much, I see in the corners of my eyes how well she plays her role as a dancer. Behind the smiles and the beaks in the air, her eyes look beautifully tired.

I drink a few shooters...

We end the evening on a balcony in town, in a spa.

Chloe takes off her top, she encourages me to do the same. I find myself topless in the large spa, with other women, dancers or not, and other men.

The senses are awakened and the humans in these places behave like tigers and tigresses. The tension goes up a notch as a very classy man shows up in the distance. It's so beautiful that I blush over my blush. I feel a little stupid, but I put my top back on, as if it had reason to make a good impression on this total stranger.

Later that evening, he invites Chloe for a ride. They seem to already know each other. I'm a little (a lot) jealous, but I don't let it show. I stay a few minutes at the party, but I'm rather disappointed.

I walk along the edge of the path, leaving a long ribbon trailing that I stole from the colorful decor of the party in the air, on the slightly soaked ground. A drizzle falls on my hair and I see again and again this man who smiles as he arrives, from the top of the stairs, on the last pillar of the building, to bewitch me.

The next day, Chloe knocks on my door. Yeah!

She asks me to keep her apartment for the evening, for a sum of money. The amount means a lot to me and I wonder if there is a scam or an unsuspected danger. Still, I nod, because I don't want to look deflated in front of her.

She explains to me that she has to go out and that the last time she left the apartment free, she had had money stolen from her and some personal belongings, such as photos. She intends to put a camera tomorrow. The person showed up yesterday while we were at the party. I am both relieved and puzzled. What kind of thief steals photos?

Before leaving, she gives me a little kiss in the neck, and she looks me straight in the eyes:

-Thanks. You saved my life.

And the door closes. I walk around the house, slowly.

I don't want to snoop around his stuff, but I see there are pictures on his bedside table. It's about her and the man with the motorcycle the other night. There are three pictures. A photo where she has her arms in the air sitting on these shoulders, a photo where she kisses him on the cheek, and a photo where she kisses him on the mouth. That must be her boyfriend, I thought. Well, too bad for me...

I spend the evening watching television and playing with my hair. I think of this man, with the mysterious gaze, broad shoulders, dark brown hair, James Bonds gait.

At the end of the evening, Chloé and the man in the photos come in, big smiles on their faces. I remain frozen. Chloe invites me to have a drink with them. I nod...

I learn, with enthusiasm, that they are (just) best friends.

-Well, it's like my family, you see. We don't sleep together. Chloe sneers

They are close, but they are not in a relationship. (Phew) Taylor looks me straight in the eye and offers me to travel with him to the stars. I don't quite understand what he means.

That evening, I got as close to Tylor as to Chloé. A strong chemistry reigns in the group, whether it is the effect of alcohol or not, the electricity in the air is palpable. We have a great chat, having a few drinks, until Chloe initiates a pole dance and we join her. I try to keep the rhythm with the most sensual movements that I know, or by deliberately copying those of my new friend.

At the end of the evening, we form a chain, on the sofa, by playing in the hair, while we listen to music. We end up falling asleep, resting on top of each other.

In no time, I'm spending more and more time with Chloe and Tylor. They become my bests friends. We are one hell of a trio. We are having a lot of fun.

This evening, at sunset, Tylor makes me get on his motorbike and takes me to visit his house. It's the dream day for me, the moment when I find myself alone with him. I act like his girlfriend, because I'm always waiting for him to make the first move. He kisses me on the mouth sometimes, but he also kisses Chloe, so I think it's more of a gesture of friendship... I don't know how well I can describe this relationship.

Tonight we are more than friends. He stops his motorcycle at the top of the city, and we watch the sunset. I dream of being his, but I know he's also close to Chloe. I suspect them of sleeping together.

He asks me if I'm attracted to him. I answer him, with all my heart, that yes.

That night, we made love. It was masterful.

Lying on the bed, he asks me if I would like to travel with him. I answer yes. He says he also wants to invite Chloe. I don't have the jealousy I had towards her anymore, and I think we're in a kind of love triangle now. Tylor is the kind of guy who can have two girlfriends. Also, I often spend time alone with Chloe, and, come to think of it, it seems like a good idea for the three of us. And besides, they say they don't sleep together, that's a plus. It's like always having my best friend with me, and my lover too.

We talk about traveling, and even that we plan to travel. We spend a lot of time at Chloé and at Tylor.

At a certain point, Tylor actually offered to move me to his place. I've only known him for a few weeks, but I'm so in love that it seems like the least of it. Chloé is also thinking of joining us.

I'm temporarily moving to Tylor. He insisted on paying for everything. Since my rent was billed monthly and I didn't have a lot of furniture, it was the least complicated move in the world.

The house is worthy of a detective novel. I have fun with Chloe. Who was killed, in which room and with what object? The game, you know... There is a secret passage, barred doors, stone walls, and others in wood. Cameras, a security system.

From the first week, I began to wonder about Tylor's activities.

After two weeks living there, I quit my job, and so did Chloe. We spend a few days out of town, wandering from place to place. Chloe and I shop all day long, while Tylor has mysterious absences. We suspect him of just about anything. And to tell the truth, what would supposedly scare us, excites us even more.

One evening, he ended up confessing, and it was much darker than I had imagined...

Chloe was out, and Tylor looked like a funeral. I always found him mysterious, secretive, but somehow he seemed so comfortable dodging my questions that I didn't push any further.

At the end of the long marble table, he pulls out some papers. Plans of the houses.

I look at him, puzzled.

-Well, it's against burglaries the security systems, it's well known.

-I would like to tell you that it's true, but...

His gaze darkened.

The story he told me turned out to be darker than expected.

Tylor had a great heritage and after college he decided to spend his life having fun. Here is the version he tells to anyone who will listen, starting with me.

-I like this life, but if you want me to leave, I will understand, you know.

-Listen...

In fact, his father had been a contract killer, and some people resented him now for what his father had done, even after his death. One man in particular, along with his allies, a rival group to the one his father was affiliated with, was after him.

The trip we often talked about was not only to have fun, but above all to get away. Tylor has no intention of returning home. I have to choose between going with him or abandoning him forever.

Chloe was already aware of this story, and she had made her decision, she is staying here.I felt betrayed.

How could she hide such a secret from me? But above all, how could she live with this ''detail'', as if nothing had happened. Maybe we were in danger... I was flabbergasted. I have to say that I had suspected something fishy was going on with all that money at first, but now I was disgusted to know where that money came from, and even though her father was dead, I couldn't find it's really legit.

Chloe and Tylor had kept a big secret from me, and my naivety was now turning me face to face with a reality that was harder to swallow. I was madly in love with Tylor, and what about Chloe, such a friendship also comes from a love more than any. I have to choose between Tylor and Chloe. The most logical option was to stay with Chloe. So I'll announce it tomorrow to Tylor, after discussing it with Chloe.

-I know... It's a crazy story! I'm sorry, if you knew how many times I tried to tell you, but we had so much fun... You know, I've never been afraid of death. For me, joining my parents has already crossed my mind. There are still things to explain. You know, Tylor is my cousin. My parents died because of this war, and we have known each other for a very long time. We're not that in love, and as you can see, we're both in love with you. If you knew how many arguments we had about living you, me and him... That it could put you in danger... Tylor and I, we don't have a relationship like you have with him. I know you thought otherwise, and that was part of the secret.

-I understand the stakes of such a secret, but I would have liked you to tell me about it before, Chloée. I don't know what to think anymore. Was it just a game for you two this whole time? He told me the story of his father yesterday. I was in shock.

Tylor spent the evening giving us more details, he even broke down in tears. He had recently received threats on his phone. He had been asked to join the opposing group and kill for them, or he would be dead shortly. Tylor hides his face, half collapsed.

Chloe intervenes:

Tylor has nothing to do with it, he was young and had no idea. Last year, his father explained to him that he would not return, and that he wanted his son to consider him dead. Too many people were against him. He hoped to save his son by losing this sum of money to him. An amply large sum to live a lifetime. He suspected retaliation, but he couldn't take his son, because his next life would be just as dangerous as his first. Having never known her mother, she who had left shortly before her first birthday.

It hurt me to give him up too, and the only choice I knew now was that I feared for my life.

I immediately went back to live with my sister.

I had difficulty sleeping the first few nights. I kept dreaming of when I first met Tylor, how chic he was, and how he had taken Chloe on his motorbike, and then men were chasing me, the scene ending with a cannon, aimed at me.

Chloe, more reckless, returned to her apartment, the lease of which was still in her name, unlike mine, which was a monthly rental. Chloé resumed work as a dancer, but in another bar. We were both scared, especially now. Chloe didn't have a visitor or text like Tylor did, but it reminded her of how life had cruelly taken her parents away from her. The first month passed, without seeing Chloe again. We stayed in touch, unlike Tylor, who was totally silent, which we couldn't interpret as good or bad.

I went back to work at the florist, who agreed to take me back. My life was starting to get boring and I saw the memories I had of my two best friends pass before my eyes. The stip club, the terrace, the house... Their voices, their smiles, their laughter. Their smells, their colors, the way they had of dancing together, as if they were living in a game of their own, in which they had invited me, without explaining the rules to me... I was more than nostalgic, but still a little sulky. I liked to take risks, how this time I had gone down a steep hill with my skateboard, but this was something completely different.

Chloe was also nostalgic. Tonight, we meet to walk near my old neighborhood. I noticed that the steps I had painted were still yellow, and that the flowers in front of the porch were still so flamboyant. The summer was drawing to a close and the boredom dissipated as soon as we got together.

Should we contact Taylor now?

...