The Black Rose

I woke Tuesday morning with a stir. My hand resting gently between my legs, my inner thighs cinched as the visions of my solo act pervaded. Eyes still closed, I smiled, my heart palpitating as I envisioned what it might actually be like. Then reality hit. My sexual proclivity was more than likely an infatuation, like a dog chasing its tail. Once I caught it, the chase was over.

I rolled over reluctantly, my eyes opening slightly to an empty bed. My hand reached over to touch a figure that wasn’t there, a figure that may never be there.

I reached for the nightstand and grabbed the phone. I had a missed text from Mia.

Mia: Still on for lunch today?

Me: Yes, I will see you at noon :)

I hit send before my brain could compute that smiley faces were childish and way out of character for me. I wasn’t a smiley face kind of person. In fact, I only smiled to blend in. I didn’t know what it was like to involuntarily smile of my own volition. Annie’s face flashed. I stood corrected. Annie was the only person to have made me smile. My smiles these days were like painted facades, mirrored images reflecting what society wants you to portray. I never felt joy or remorse.

The closest thing I could tie to happiness today was the moment my knife, bullet, or poison entered someone’s body. To watch their souls’ drain, their eyes, wide with fear. Adrenaline shuttered through my bones. I needed to calm myself. I only had the vial in the safe left and at this rate, that wouldn’t last me a week.

I threw my phone on the bed. It was nine am. I had just enough time to work out and get ready for the interview. I hoisted myself out of the bed, wrapping the silk green and black kimono over my bare skin, and made it to the bathroom. I did my normal routine of staring at my face in the mirror for far too long, searching for any imperfection, yet always came up empty.

Satisfied, I dressed quickly for my work out, sauntered down the stairs, and got to work. I pushed myself hard on the bike, not looking at the clock or up until the hour was done. Dripping in sweat and angst, I moved immediately to the shower and rinsed the evenings and morning’s perversions from my body.

A clean slate, I put on layer after layer, each piece adding to the mirage. The makeup accentuated and highlighted the perfections to which I was tuned. The white loose-fitting top that hung off the shoulder, the whitewashed holey jeans, the Louis Vuitton sandals, hair pulled back into a wet messy bun, it was all for show. Without the mouse to fool or lure in, I wasn’t sure what kind of cat I would be?

I stared long into the mirror one last time. I looked like a presentable yet struggling journalist. I looked sexy yet not over the top as if I had just rolled out of bed and threw these items together at the last moment. “Perfecto,” I mumbled aloud.

I trotted down the steps to the kitchen. It was eleven. I still had an hour until lunch. I huffed, deciding it was best to walk to the coffee shop and procure my favorite back table. Grabbing my computer bag, I left the loft and took the elevator down to the lobby. The same familiar front desk man gave me a friendly wave, and this time I waved back.

With my brown Gucci sunglasses on, I walked with a subtle nature that only L.A. could elicit. It was the walk of you always had somewhere important to go because you were someone important yourself, but whoever that was could wait, because of your importance. That walk suited me just fine.

Ding.

I glanced down at my phone as I waited to cross the busy intersection. Zhang, ugh.

Zhang: Hey gorgeous. Just thinking about you. What are you up to today?

I rolled my eyes; this man was relentless.

Me: Hi! I am just walking into the lab to run several samples. I have to leave my phone outside, but it looks like you will have to wait until Friday. I have to take Mark to the airport Thursday evening :(

Hopefully, Zhang fell for this. The thought of having to elicit rousing conversation and philandering seemed beyond reproach.

Zhang: Ah bummer. I guess it will make seeing you Friday that much sweeter. I can have my driver pick you up again, say eight o’clock?

Me: Can’t wait :)

I put my phone back in my pocket just as I reached the coffee shop. Luckily for me, my table was free. No one seemed to appreciate the reclusiveness of that table.

“Your usual?” The familiar young waiter called as he finished bussing the table closest.

I smiled. I had grown rather fond of this young boy he seemed sharp on his feet and loathed working.

“Yes, Please,” I grinned.

My usual was a double shot espresso and a blueberry scone. Both of which I needed desperately before I was to woo Dr. Mia Semmens to our side, or my side, I guess.

After getting myself situated, I sat for a long moment. I googled “The Black Rose,” and realized that there wasn’t a new article. Had it really been that long?

I searched for murders in the Beverly Hills area, but still nothing of the dead, gross woman molester. I guess that wasn’t Beverly Hills-worthy material.

I tried again, typing “Chanel,” in the search box. Hitting enter, Chanel’s face flooded the screen. There were modeling photos, but most recent, was a missing person’s poster. They still deemed her a missing person. I gave a slight frown.

“One double shot espresso and blueberry scone,” the young man smiled, placing the items on the small square table.

“Thank you,” I grinned. “I’ll be having someone join soon. Would you mind coming for her order when she arrives?”

He smiled, “Lucky for you, you’re about the only one I actually like serving in this place. Everyone else is an asshole.”

I chuckled, “I can’t argue with that, just glad I’m not on that list.”

“There’s still time,” he winked. “I’ll just be over there waiting for your friend to show.”

I rolled my eyes; his witty sarcasm was refreshing. “Your service is impeccable,” I countered.

He bowed gracefully and parted.

I clicked on the notes app and prepared myself for Mia. I also took out a small tape recorder from my bag. Unlike Dr. Malenski’s interview, I would pay close attention, and I would write a glowing article, an article that no one would ever see besides Mia, but that wasn’t the point. I wanted Mia to feel successful, to be seen.

Ding.

Mia: I’m a little early. Should I grab a table?

My brows furrowed. Was she always this punctual?

Me: Beat you to it. I am in the far back already.

Just as I put my phone down, I saw her walking towards me. I stopped breathing. Her long wavy hair fell in loose ringlets down her shoulders. She wore a pair of dark jeans, camel boots, a white V-neck top, with a matching linen blazer. Her glasses gone leaving her face free from any obstruction. Mia wasn’t the hottest girl I had ever seen, nor been with, but there was something about her shy nature, her subtle style that weaseled its way under my skin.

I rose from my seat and extended my hand. “Hi, it’s nice to see you again.”

Mia’s hand touched mine, slightly confused by the formal gesture. The same electric shock wave tore through my skin and accelerated up my arm.

“It’s nice to see you too,” she beamed taking a seat.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have ordered anything yet had I known,” I frowned.

“Don’t be silly,” she consoled, “But that does look good.”

“Can I get you anything?” the young man pounced.

“Oh, that was fast,” Mia exhaled. I looked at the young man who gave a slight smirk and I winked.

“I’ll take a chai tea latte please for now,” she skimmed the menu. “And I guess the barbeque tofu wrap. Sorry,” she grinned sheepishly.

“Not a problem,” he nodded. “You still good?” he looked to me.

“I’ll take the same wrap actually,” I added. Couldn’t say I had ever enjoyed tofu so much, but what the hell. Besides, I was starving from my workout.

“You got it,” he bowed matter-of-factly. “I’ll be right back with your latte.”

“Thank you,” Mia contended.

As the young man sauntered off to get her drink, I wasted no time.

“Thank you for agreeing to the interview,” my eyes probing hers, soaking in her pensive mannerisms, her heart rate, pulse, her apprehension. I wanted to know everything.

“Not a problem. I must admit I googled you, and it appears you are somewhat of a ghost,” she conceded. What was it with scientists and background checks?

“I am relatively private in the journalism world,” I frowned apologetically. “Most of what I have written is anonymous or presented under a different name.”

“Hey, we all have to start out somewhere,” she consoled touching my hand. My eyes moved to her hand against mine. I swallowed. Mia pulled it away quickly as if she didn’t know she had grabbed my hand.

“Thank you,” I muttered. “I must confess that I have spent the last few days reading over your research and it’s quite astonishing,” my eyebrows rose, guiding the subject with dexterity.

“Thank you,” she countered, “I feel as if I have years to go, but we’re making progress.”

If only her brain was enhanced, I bet she could cut that time into months.

I pressed play on the recorder. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” she aired lightly.

“So, can you explain more about your progress and when you might expect to accomplish one of your goals?” I probed.

“Well, I was recently able to manipulate a fair number of genes with just a single step. I would say it’s only a third of what I would need in order to dramatically alter the human mind and body, but it’s a step.”

“So, with these manipulations, you’re describing, what would that be enough to do now?”

“Well, we can alter a person’s eye color, their predispositions to certain diseases, their hair color, hair, and cell growth, I would call them mostly surface changes, or phenotypes.”

I nodded, soaking it all in. Mia lit up with every question and every response. It was delightful to see how her face shone in her natural habitat.

“Wow,” I murmured feigning surprise. “So, your end goal is to enhance the neural pathways and brain’s efficiency to inherently create a semblance of a superhuman to solve the world’s problems?”

Mia frowned slightly and I realized that question could come off as derogatory. “Yes, that is my goal.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean for that to sound negative or far-fetched.”

“It’s okay,” she held her hands up cutting me off. “I’m used to critics and doubters, but I know what can be done and what’s feasible.”

Buzz. Mia’s phone vibrated.

It was from Bob. I clenched my teeth, my jaw muscles tightened, I attempted to remain cool.

“Sorry,” she apologized, turning her phone over.

I pursed my lips, concealing the molten anger as best I could.

“Do you know the human brain?” I pushed, my own firing on all murderous cylinders at the moment.

“What do you mean?” she asked curiously.

“I mean what if you enhanced a human who wanted to destroy life on earth, who used their powers for evil and not good?”

I felt like a complete hypocrite. I had the power, but I couldn’t ignore my instincts, my desires. I knew it. Death grew in me while life grew in her. I was consumed by it. Death fascinated me, while life irked me. I’d rather squander life, watch it dissolve slowly through the eyes of another than try to save our species. Mia had hope.

“That is a potential problem,” Mia trailed. “But I think the positives still outweigh the negatives.”

“What if you were enhanced? What would you do exactly?” These questions turned more and more into my own curiosity than for the article.

“I would make it my life’s mission to solve climate change, hunger, poverty, and better ways to live on this planet than we’ve done.”

I nodded. She was a saint, far too caring, and empathetic for Shadow.

“Why not solve cancer? Heart disease? Blindness?” I continued.

“Well, I think that we have a population control issue, which is part of the reason our planet is suffering as much as it is. I think if you were able to solve many of the health issues before solving the climate ones, it would be counterproductive.”

I guess I couldn’t argue with that logic, nor chuckle at the fact that in a way I was helping with the population issue.

“Makes sense,” I muttered. She seemed to have less empathy for mankind than animals.

“What inspired you to pursue this?”

Mia took a sip of her latte and thought for a moment.

“Ever since I was a child, my parents instilled in me the importance of nature, of having a balance, of working hard, and of never giving up. I had a knack for science at an early age. As I learned more and grew, I just followed the path of least resistance. While my high school friends cared more about proms and Friday night football, I had my nose in a book. I didn’t go to dances or parties I graduated early and went to Harvard. I kept my nose in a book, my eyes on a microscope my entire tenure at Harvard. I met some brilliant minds, much of whom shared my enthusiasm, and together we grew the idea of human manipulation.”

As Mia shared her childhood, my own was triggered. We were both outcasts. The sensations from that time surfaced, the loneliness, antipathy, the bullying. Suddenly, I felt like a loser for not studying harder, for not having my nose in a book twenty-four seven, to not have accomplished more. Here I was an enhanced assassin with nothing to show for it but a swath of untied murders, a fancy loft, and a fake identity.

“You really are something,” I smirked, our eyes meeting.

“I’m just an above-average loner who would rather spend her life in a laboratory than sunning on the beach or walking the streets of Paris,” she shrugged nonchalantly. I could see the years of self-abuse roll off her tongue. She wanted more than this. Maybe she thought she could never achieve more so never tried?

I placed my hand on hers. “I’m a loner too,” I consoled, “But there is more to life than work.”

The edges of her lips curled into a smile, her heart rate increased as our skin touched, “You’re right.” I removed my hand, afraid if I left it there longer, I would never want to let go.

“I guess I have never had a reason or something strong enough to pull me away,” she continued.

I could agree with that. I had never met anyone with whom I’d rather hang out with than murder…except Annie. Love made you vulnerable. Love was a card someone else could play to make you completely defenseless.

“Well, in a way, I’m glad you haven’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be as successful as you are.”

She grinned bashfully, her eyes meeting mine. My throat hitched. Her eyes felt like lasers that pierced mine driving straight through to my soul.

“My accomplishments don’t hold a candle to yours,” I shook my head, continuing, but then she grabbed my hand. I stopped midsentence. I stopped breathing. My eyes widened. I was caught off guard. She didn’t remove it.

“You can’t compare yourself to others,” she muttered. “The only person it hurts is you.”

I swallowed lightly, listening to make sure my heart was still beating or even in my chest.

I pursed my lips together, obeying. My hardened exterior melted right before me. I no longer felt like an impenetrable lethal assassin, I felt like a human being. I felt weak, pliable, giddy.

“Thank you,” I uttered.

“Ladies, sorry to interrupt,” the young man sauntered over with two plates in hand, “Your food has arrived.”

Mia moved her hand away quickly, and I suddenly hated the young boy for interrupting. I loathed the space in between our distant hands. I hated the idea that we were in public, but most of all, I hated the idea of recruiting her. If Mia joined Shadow, she would never be able to accomplish her dreams, not in the way she desired. She wouldn’t create to make the world a better place, she would create to keep the world as it was.

“Thank you,” we both echoed in unison. I looked down at the barbeque wrap, the chunks of tofu peeking out the edges. I swallowed slightly.

“It won’t bite,” Mia chuckled.

“You sure about that?” my nostrils flared.

I picked up one half and put it to my mouth. Taking a bite, the tofu squished beneath my teeth, but surprisingly, it tasted good. I chewed and nodded, “Okay, this is actually good.”

“See,” Mia beamed, now moving to take her first bite. I hit stop on the recorder and allowed us to eat in jovial accord.

Mia and I talked for another hour, and would’ve kept going had she not had a mini freak out over the time.

“I’m so sorry, I have to get back to the lab.”

“It’s okay,” I waved her off. “No need to apologize.”

“I really enjoyed this,” she looked at me again longingly. I gulped.

“Don’t go back to the lab. Come home with me. Let’s roll in my bed, satisfying our physical needs, and then let’s get to work. Hell, let’s make the world a better place. I’ll do whatever you say.” No, I didn’t say that out loud, but I wanted to.

“I enjoyed it too. Maybe we could do another interview soon?” I put interview in air quotes which sparked a giggle from Mia.

“I would love that, Maybe the next interview could be a tour of my lab?”

My brows rose. I wasn’t expecting this. “I would love that.”

“What about Saturday? Are you busy?” she asked.

“Um, no I think I’m free this Saturday,” even though I was thinking of the long night I would have Friday. Please don’t say some ridiculously early time.

“We are closed on the weekend, but I normally go in anyway.” Shocker I thought. So diligent.

“What time would you like me there?”

“What about three pm? Then maybe we could do dinner at my place after?” Was she actually asking me to hang out twice? On the same day?

“That sounds lovely. I’ll be there, and in the meantime, I will send you the article to proof before sending it.”

“I can’t wait to see what you divulge,” Mia smirked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave out the incessant nose in a book or eyes in a microscope quote,” I poked.

Mia rolled her eyes playfully, “I will be forever in your debt.”

Little did she know.

I placed my card down on the bill and almost fought Mia to pay. The only way I got her to relent was to remind her that she would technically be paying for dinner Saturday. Compromise.

As Mia and I walked out of the coffee shop and the smoggy sun-filled air caressed our skin, I didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Well, I will see you Saturday then?” she aired, moving in awkwardly.

I met her half-hug; my nose inhaled her scent. She smelled faintly of lavender detergent and formaldehyde. Our arms around one another, it took everything in me to keep the embrace brief. My insides, outsides, inner thighs, that pulsating mass in my chess screamed.

“See you Saturday,” I stammered, pulling back, and that was it. Mia continued down the sidewalk to her car, and I strolled towards the traffic light.

I couldn’t describe it, but I felt light as air. I had a permanent smile spread across my face, a bounce in my step, a yearning in my soul. What was this? This wasn’t just lust this was something else.

I walked across the street and into my fortress. I gave an extra bouncy wave to the front desk security, and the man returned a mystified expression. He almost asked to see my identification since this was so out of character.

I made my way back to the loft, and couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t focus, eat, or concentrate on anything. What was wrong with me?

I grabbed my remaining vial of pills and took five. Lying back on the bed, staring up at the high ceiling, “It’s okay, Alex.” I muttered. I needed more pills.

I reached for my phone and text Damien.

Me: Need more orange pills ASAP

I exhaled, trying desperately not to think about the last time I went through an orange pill withdrawal. I shook my head. Not this time. Why wont these stupid pills kick in faster?

I closed my eyes, picturing Mia’s sweet face, her voice. Her voice. I jumped up and ran for my purse. I fumbled for the tape recorder, clutching it to my chest as I it was really her. I pressed play and returned to the bed. I listened intently until the mixture of her light and the overdose of pills transported me into a deep sleep.