White Room Virgin (Room #1)

22 - Lucien

22

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Lucien

I was so fed up. Of people. Of promises. Of expectations. Of hopes. Of Jonah. And, above all, of myself.

As strong as the emotions were boiling inside me, I lacked the energy to bring them to the surface. I felt like a stone—heavy, dull, and weak. All the muscles that I didn’t urgently need were paralyzed and my breathing was shallow. I felt empty and so did my circulation. I felt dizzy all the time and food disgusted me. Just thinking about the gooey substance in my mouth made me feel sick.

But it was my own fault. I hadn’t wanted to give up hope with Jonah and had shown him a world that could only be lived in my dreams. His religion stood between us, and Jonah had made it very clear to me that I was the last piece of trash for him. I had defiled him.

I had been so stupid—he would never confess to me. And why should he? I knew for myself that I was nothing more than dirt. I had brought guilt upon myself, and now it threatened to crush me like a rock. The thing from two years ago clung to me like an evil spirit, and everything had gone downhill even more since the thing with Jonah. Maybe I was cursed because everything I touched turned into shit. Even if I had wanted to, I would never have escaped it all. They had become my personal hell. Phil and Jonah. Jonah and Phil. My thoughts hadn’t been about anything else for two weeks.

I ignored all the messages, spent most of my time in the studio, where at least no one had to deal with me, and tried to concentrate on my art—without success. The last thing left for me was to slip away from me too.

And then there was the damn anniversary!

Seated in drawing class, I fixated on a stunning bouquet of flowers, the sound of pencils scratching against paper amplifying my discomfort. It felt as though I might burst from within, an unbearable pulsation coursing through my body like a ticking time bomb. My throat constricted, each breath a painful endeavor.

Why am I still here at all? Why today?

I sat in front of the blank page until the bell rang. But even that wasn’t a relief. I just sat there paralyzed. My body didn’t want anything anymore.

“Are you coming?” Steven asked from somewhere in the distance.

I took a breath and packed up.

“Gilliéron, a word!”

Again?

“I’ll wait outside,” Steven said.

I hesitantly approached Seeger, who slid a handful of sketches into his folder.

“I haven’t received your concept for the term paper yet,” he said in his stern tone.

Damn.

When I didn't answer, he peered over the rim of his glasses and gave me a curious look. I didn’t even have the strength to put on a sheepish smile or use my charm in any other way, and a lie wouldn’t work with the man anyway. On the other hand, it was optional to have the concept checked. So why should I even bother?

“Don’t you want me to approve it?” Seeger asked, somewhat irritated. “Because it seems to me that migration is not your topic. That’s why I would recommend that you definitely take advantage of the opportunity to get feedback.”

I still didn’t know what to say. My thoughts were all about Phil.

“Are you all right?” Seeger asked with concern. “You seem a little pale.”

And then I saw it in his eyes again. That sparkle. It wasn’t the same as a year ago, but it was exactly what had reminded me of Phil back then. Had I ever actually apologized to Seeger for the kiss?

I really am a disaster. My presence alone must be a burden for him. Let’s get this over with.

“I’m … I’m sorry that I kissed you.”

Seeger frowned in surprise. “That was over a year ago, Gilliéron.”

“It won’t happen again.” As empty as I had felt the last few days, I was now fighting back tears.

Shit, man, how pathetic!

His expression softened. “What’s happened? Is it over the same thing as a year ago?”

I regained my composure, took a deep breath, and rubbed my eyes. “Am I dismissed?” I asked in a shaky voice.

Seeger seemed undecided and stared at me with concern. “What’s bothering you? Maybe I can help.”

I hung my head and exhaled. “Thank you, but … I’m fine.” I slipped out of the room without looking up. It was half past four and I didn’t want to see anyone anymore. I just wanted to be alone, so I took the back exit. Steven would be fine.

My route led me to the gas station, where I bought a bottle of vodka before heading straight to the studio. My only goal: to get drunk as quickly as possible. That seemed doable, given my stomach was almost empty.

But once I was in the studio, I realized that even the isolation didn’t give me any peace. I was pacing around like a junkie in withdrawal. Memories raged in my head like a thunderstorm. The feelings of guilt almost tore me apart and I wanted to scream.

It wasn’t until I had drunk about half of the bottle that a sense of calm finally washed over me—or, at the very least, over my body. From then on, I felt miserable. While I was sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette, Martin knocked on the door and entered the studio.

Great …

His eyes darted around as if he was looking for something.

A rope, perhaps? Or a couple of razor blades?

“Hello,” he said.

I took a drag on my cigarette and flicked the ash into the ashtray on my lap. Martin froze a few steps in front of me as the half-empty vodka bottle caught his attention.

“Whad’ya want?” I slurred.

“I’m here to take you home.”

“Wha’ for?”

“We’re worried about you.”

“We? Who’s … we?”

“Believe it or not, your professor wanted to talk to Steven today because he’s worried. And Steven called me again earlier because he hasn’t been able to get through to you for two weeks.”

My shoulders sagged. “I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not fine, Lu! That’s pretty obvious.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just leave me…”

“… to drown in misery? No! You’re coming home with me now.”

“Please, Martin … not today.” My voice became a quiet pleading. The anniversary was crushing me.

“Today of all days. I know you too well and I don’t want to see you end up doing something to yourself—even if it’s just an accident. We both know how clumsy you can be. If needed, I’ll haul you home and put you under lock and key. Or you can come along willingly and at least preserve your dignity. It’s up to you.”

I remained seated. My body felt heavy like a boulder. I sluggishly ran my hands over my face.

Dignity … As if I really had a choice …

If Martin had set his mind on something, there was no way around it.

Today of all days, when I just wanted to get drunk … Fuck.

While I stubbed out my cigarette, Martin nodded contentedly and retrieved my coat. Still unable to pull myself together, I leaned forward to grab the bottle, but Martin was quicker and snatched it from under my nose.

“That’s enough for today,” he said and walked toward the sink.

“Hey, don’t throw that away now …”

“Don’t worry, but at least it’s staying here.”

I finally got up from the sofa.

Concentrate, Lu!

I felt dizzy as the force of gravity seemed almost overpowering, but I managed to hold myself upright.

“Here,” Martin said and handed me the coat.

I put it on, staggered back to the sofa to pack my cigarettes, and then followed Martin out. Since I struggled to find the lock, he grabbed the key from me and locked the door. Meanwhile, I leaned against the wall, my head back, trying to ignore the fact that everything was spinning around me.

“There. Come on now.” Martin pressed the keys into my hand and pulled me along. I heard a metallic clang behind me. By the time I realized it was my keys, Martin had shoved them into my coat pocket.

As if in a trance, I followed him out. Somehow the world had become more or less bearable in the last half hour. My feelings of guilt and my pain were under control, the memories banished.

Then I’ll just go home with Martin… Whatever…

The fresh evening air and the short walk to the bus stop did me good. It was all the more difficult on the packed bus, where I had to squeeze myself against one of the windows.

“I told Jonah that we’re all eating together today,” Martin said casually when we finally got off the bus.

Oh no!

“No, that …”

“Don’t argue with me! You need to eat, and having some company will do you good.”

As our house came into view, I desperately searched for a way to escape. However, in my drunken state, I would probably have crashed into the nearest wall, so I just trotted after Martin like a dog.