Chapter 2 Kateřina
“Knock it off, Kry?tof!” I bark at my phone.
What’s the worst thing about having a long-distance relationship? Arguing while looking at your phone screen like an idiot.
“Knock it off? What kind of language is this?” he snarls, turning red as the tousled blond curls on top of his head jiggle around his forehead. “What does this even mean?”
I sigh. “It means that you’re being pushy. You know I came to the US to pursue my career.”
“Look how much you’ve changed already, Kate?ina. You don’t want to speak your native language with your boyfriend because you want to improve your English. Do you have any idea how pathetic that sounds?” Kry?tof scowls, his voice reverberating around my otherwise silent and small apartment.
I shake my head and bite my lip with disappointment. Once again, I feel pressured and pushed. Asking the people around me to understand me feels like talking to a wall.
He doesn’t understand. I don’t know if it’s jealousy or because he’s fed up with this situation.
I know how hard it is; I’m also in this relationship.
I had to move to the US to follow the career of an upcoming model—and to get the hell away from my parents, their strict rules, and the “shut up and get back into your room already”—while he had to stay behind in Czechia, where we’re both from.
I thought he’d be more supportive and understanding. But why did I believe that Kry?tof would change? He, like my parents, talks to me this way because I dare to talk back.
“You haven’t changed at all, Kry?tof. You’re the same asshole you’ve always been,” I say, the corner of my lip hooking up involuntarily.
“Watch your mouth when you’re talking to me!” he shouts. “You’re doing this to feed your vanity. You don’t love me anymore.” He fumes even more, making his prominent and clean-shaven jawline twitch.
I don’t think I ever loved him anyway.
I return my eyes to his. He looks enraged, and I feel a sense of disappointment. Devastation. Jadedness. “Are you done?” I ask quietly, trying to remain composed.
“No, I am not done!”
“But I am, Kry?tof. Let’s not drag it even further.”
“Kate?ina!” he screams yet again.
“Ahoj, Kry?tof.”
I hang up the phone and toss it onto my dusty pink duvet. I let my body collapse onto the bed, falling back and bouncing into the air once.
During the months I’ve spent living in the US, my mindset has changed. Maybe I am the bad guy in this situation, but I don’t know how to change it.
My life has always been weird. Controlled, I’d say.
My parents come from a prudish family that expects me to save myself for marriage. For years, I was afraid of my dad’s strict rules. But when I reached puberty, I rebelled. I became a renegade and slept with my boyfriend. Shocking!
Mom and Dad don’t know. If they did, they’d kill me, kill him, and then die of embarrassment. As far as they’re concerned, I’m still pure. And it’s best to let them keep believing that.
They forbade me from talking about my dream of becoming a dancer, so I never even took a class. It’s just a hollow dream that’s slowly started to slip away from me.
Becoming a model came easier and felt more natural to me, I’d say, although my parents didn’t approve of that, either.
To them, it was wrong. A disgrace that would expose and humiliate our family name—like everything I did. But the more they denied it, the stronger my desire grew. Was it to oppose them? Or because I actually wanted it? Who knows?
Until one day, someone saw me randomly at a beauty contest that a friend participated in as a makeup artist. She wanted me to become her model, and of course, I agreed.
An agent selected me and offered me a job as a model, but in America.
Naturally, I seized the opportunity, left everyone behind, and flew away to live the big life. At least, that’s what I thought.
But a model’s life can be tricky. Hard, even rough. People see you as an object, not as a person with feelings. All these years of pushing and pressuring myself to become someone just to defy my parents have left me numb. I don’t even know if I love it anymore.
I’m struggling to keep up with my demanding schedule. “Be thin, be healthy, be athletic, funny, smart; know history, know how to cook, how to drive.” Funny how different everything looks under the stage lights.
I escaped one harsh reality only to become trapped in another.
At least I’m far away from home.
My arms wrap around my pillow, my eyes nailed to the ceiling, and my mind travels.
It drifts back to him. That guy I’ve been spotting everywhere lately. Why does he keep popping into my thoughts when I haven’t even spoken to him? He’s elusive and mysterious, yet somehow, he keeps appearing wherever I go.
As much as I’m trying to remember his face, I can’t. I can only remember the way his gaze makes me feel. So weird, yet so true.
“Is it over?” my roommate, Emily, raises her thin, brown eyebrow, interrupting my daydream.
“My call or my relationship?”
“Both?” She smiles hesitantly.
I let out a forced sigh and pull the pillow on me, burying my face in it. I hear her walking closer to me, then she snatches the pillow and reveals my face.
“Get up,” she commands.
“Can’t I take a day off?”
“Nope. We’ll go shopping. You have a party to go to tomorrow.”
Damn, I completely forgot about that.
Cocktail parties like these are essential for anyone aiming to succeed in the modeling industry.
They offer a great chance to connect with designers, photographers, and agents.
I’m not particularly excited about this one, as the invitation was last minute.
Still, with my career just starting, I need to appear eager and available for every event I’m “honored” enough to be invited to.
I’d love to spend the whole day in bed, doing absolutely nothing. Today is my “day-off-everything” day, and all I want to do is stay home and rest.
However, shopping is sometimes even better.
Besides, I don’t feel safe anymore. Not here. I don’t even feel secure in my own house.
When I came back that afternoon a few weeks ago and saw that someone had tried to rob us, the police said they must have targeted us because no other apartment was broken into.
But why? We don’t own anything valuable.
In fact, nothing was taken at all. Only a few vases were broken, and that’s how we realized someone had been in here. Who would want to harm us?
She’s only two years younger than me, yet she’s already accomplished so much. Meanwhile, here I am at twenty-two, leaving home for the first time. My parents always held the leash, never letting me stray too far.
“Shopping has always made your face light up!” she insists.
Maybe she’s right. Even if I don’t buy anything, the fresh air and the beautiful displays at the mall are all I need to forget about my asshole of a boyfriend.
After slipping into my loose jeans and white cropped top with puffed shoulders, we grab a cab and head downtown to the city’s largest mall.
After three hours of walking through the endless shops and cafeterias, I am finally sitting on the wooden bench, drinking my longed-for orange juice.
“Jeez, Kate?ina, after all these shops, you still can’t find a decent dress to go to a simple party?” Emily sighs next to me, yanking her dark brown hair over her shoulder.
“You know me.” I gulp the juice. “I can’t settle with anything I see. I just don’t like anything.”
Emily exhales sharply, obviously tired and moody.
“I promise, one last shop.”
“Fine. Let me sneak off for a smoke in the restroom first,” she chirps, standing up and rummaging through her vintage brown leather shoulder bag.
“Oh, come on, Emily.” I snort, rolling my eyes back.
“I’ll make it quick!” she whispers, tiptoeing to the nearest restroom.
If there’s one thing I hate more than anything, it’s smoking. I can’t stand the smell or the sight of smoke curling from someone’s lips and nostrils.
I take out my phone and start scrolling, sipping the last drops of my orange juice.
As my finger scrolls through a series of boring articles about the latest weird sex trends, I catch a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of my eye.
I can tell it’s a man standing across from me with his hands tucked casually into his pants pockets.
I can feel his intense gaze lingering on me.
I am curious. I lift my eyes just enough to catch sight of him.
It is him again. The mysterious man I keep seeing everywhere I go. Bravely, I look persistently back into his dark eyes. Our gazes are locked, causing goosebumps all over my body.
Gosh, he looks perfect. His outfit strikes a perfect balance between casual and formal.
He’s wearing black slacks paired with a gray turtleneck tucked neatly into his pants, which highlights his broad chest. A sleek silver watch glints on his wrist, along with a matching bracelet and a plain black leather belt.
He appears wealthy despite his efforts to blend in with us ordinary people. Such a man cannot possibly do so. Even though he doesn’t look like a model, he has that aura that not many people possess.
It’s the first time that I actually notice him, and I find myself unable to take my gaze away from him.
His hair is precisely styled, with a longer, wavy top—almost straight—and shorter sides that blend seamlessly into the top without being overly tight or closely shaven. His dark blonde forelock frames his well-defined face, intensifying his gaze.
It’s strange; he looks ready to devour me, yet he doesn’t seem threatening. Somehow, I don’t feel afraid of him. His solemn eyes hold me captive, and then, a faintly mischievous smirk plays at his lips.
How can someone be so handsome?
“Done!” Emily beams, jolting me back to reality.
“Uhm …” My gaze shifts from her to the spot where he was standing, but he’s vanished into the crowd as if he were never here at all. Did I imagine it?