Between a bar and a dinner restaurant, we end up somewhere in the middle. I'm escorted to a rooftop bar I normally would never find myself in. The atmosphere is futuristic, shining and daunting. One might presume it to be an art piece, rather than a dining location.
We take a seat nearest the edge, away from the sound and chaos of drunken dancers. I'm grateful we're not at the bar, but even here I feel like I'm drowning in sight and sound. White seems to notice this, as he takes my hand gently and rubs the top with his thumb to soothe me. Or at least, I assume that's what he's doing.
"Your dad's not your dad right?" He asks casually, despite this being an extremely rude question on all levels.
I stare at him pensively, silently.
"Not even out of wedlock, just straight up not your real dad. What's up with that?"
I pull my hand away nervously and reach for the menu, ignoring him.
"Alright, alright, touchy subject. Is there something going on between you two?"
The menu slams against the table before I realize what I'm doing. "That's disgusting, please don't ever insinuate something like that ever again."
He chuckles, crossing his arms. "I wasn't insinuating, I was just asking!" He glances at the menu, then back up to me. "Want me to order for you?"
Is this a game? Am I being paranoid? Why does it feel like I'm consenting to something greater if I say yes? "No, I know what I like," I state firmly.
As if asking me to reconsider, I feel something brushing against my leg gently as White asks, "Really?" I protest by scooting my chair back, thankful that the area is loud enough to cover up the biting sound of creaking metal scraping concrete floors.
"I just thought I could make things a bit easier for you. Lighten the load a bit," he says with his most professional smile. "Lean on me more, I can help." His expression softens, his hands entwine with themselves as he props his elbows up on the table. "I think we understand each other."
"I understand you're fishing for information."
"Is it wrong for me to be curious about you?"
"When it feels like my personal information is going to be regurgitated to the coffee break room tomorrow morning? Yeah, I'd say so."
He hesitates, visibly offended to some degree. "I like to think anything between us will stay between us. Spoken or otherwise."
I laugh. "Really? Are we that close all of a sudden?"
"I'd like us to be. I'll keep your secrets, if you keep mine," he winks.
"Why would you ever trust me not to just tell my dad everything?" I counter, admittedly too curious for my own good. I should shut down this conversation and move on.
"Because you'll never have anyone else," he smiles.
I shudder, feeling an uncomfortable pang in my stomach. Before I can speak, he continues.
"You're disgusted by people, afraid of them. Your father puts on a front of ignoring you, but even now, without you telling him, he knows where you are and what you're doing. You're on a leash," he leans in.
I stare at him, wide-eyed. "How would you know that?"
"We're drinking buddies. Things are going to slip out. We're only human, afterall."
I hesitate, glancing at my phone nervously. This is enough of a cue to signal his assumption is correct. Silence hangs in the air, only to be broken when the waitress takes our orders. The atmosphere is stifling, I can barely speak.
"Your dad wants you to collar me," he continues, once the waitress is gone. "Undoubtedly so you can wring me dry in divorce court or just kill me in my fuckin' sleep."
True.
"If you marry me, you have an excuse to get out there and live your own life. Go watch movies and… whatever the hell else it is you like doing."
I smile awkwardly. "I like working."
"Then work for me!" He throws his arms out. "Perfect!"
I chuckle nervously. When drinks arrive, I down one, then two, then three. White keeps them coming, and I don't refuse tonight.
"Ledge," I say, emboldened by the alcohol in my system, "you are a dangerous bastard."
He looks at me with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
"Papa wants me to marry you and kill you or bleed you dry some other way, yes. You know this. You know that I have nothing in my life. I am an empty husk. I am a doll. I will take you down in some form or another, because my personal god has commanded me to do so," I smile at him, taking his hand in mine. "You've already done your research. I'm alone, except for him. I'll push myself everyday to be better, to work harder, to overcome my fears. Because, at the end of the day, I fear Papa the most."
Though I assumed Whited would be put off by this dramatic monologue, he instead stands up and takes me into his arms. He's begun an enigmatic waltz to the electronic dance music thumping in the background.
"Let me change your fate!"
His words are a sweet honey at a time like this.
"How? Should I trade one keeper for another?" I glare at him.
"Let's be partners instead," he responds easily.
"Why would I do that?!" I do my best to shove him, but he's far more coordinated than I am right now.
"Just take a chance on love, will ya?"
"You're insane! You don't love me and I don't love you!" I gasp at the audacity. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes and I beat on his chest angrily.
"There's something here, I know it," the devil himself says as he leans in close.