"The Ryder Cup Day 2 starts now. Ladies and gentlemen, the day is bright and sunny and everything is on time today."
[The sky over New York is brilliantly clear, and the energy is electric as fans from Europe and the USA pack the stands. The atmosphere is buzzing just moments before the teams take the field.]
"And here the pairings we have for today's match, ladies and gentlemen. If you look at it, it is:
Jon Rahm & Tyrrell Hatton (Europe) vs. Bryson DeChambeau & Justin Thomas (USA)
Ludvig Åberg & Matt Fitzpatrick (Europe) vs. Scottie Scheffler & Russell Henley (USA)
Rory McIlroy & Tommy Fleetwood (Europe) vs. Collin Morikawa & Harris English (USA)
Robert MacIntyre & Viktor Hovland (Europe) vs. Xander Schauffele & Patrick Cantlay (USA)."
[In the night when everything is silent, not even a fly can be heard. Dylan is on his laptop, sitting on his bed getting everything ready.]
And here I am logged in. I took my phone and dialed a call.
"So who is going against whom?"
"Wait a minute, I will send you the list. Hurry it up, or else everyone will be angry."
He disconnected my call without even saying anything. I guess he is having a death wish for himself. Well, I shouldn't waste time. I shall check everything in advance. I opened the match live stream and started looking at it. There was nothing I could think of that could alter the game, but suddenly my mind tingled.
"Could there be any big celebrity there?"
I started looking at the stream and my eyes spotted Brooklyn Beckham, husband of Nicola Peltz. If he is here, then there might be some good bets tonight. At this moment, the list of all the players had come to me. I looked at the chart and I already knew who was going to be today's winner. I took my phone and again called him.
"Miraj."
"What happened, Dylan?"
"From here, give points to Europe team."
"Are you sure?"
"I am. Do the prediction."
[He shouted to a group of audience.]
"Today's winner gonna be Team Europe."
[As he shouted, everyone started opening their phones and started betting on a website named Horseshoe. He looked at him with excitement and wished that everything shall go well.]
Now things will begin.
As the players started putting shots, people started betting.
50 of 200 on Jon Rahm & Tyrrell Hatton.
20 of 300 on Bryson DeChambeau & Justin Thomas.
74 of 274 on Ludvig Åberg & Matt Fitzpatrick.
38 of 406 on Scottie Scheffler & Russell Henley.........
Continuously having these notifications was overwhelming and annoying. I muted the notifications and started aligning the bets that people had placed. I sometimes wished these youngsters had saved this money and invested it somewhere fruitful in their life. Instead of having the dream to get rich in no time, they should have tried to get settled in their life, but I guess there is nothing you can do when it comes to people who have generational wealth and have nothing to do.
I was thinking about it and suddenly a new bet was summoned. There were too many people betting on whether Brooklyn Beckham will have a hot dog or popcorn in the stadium. I sighed for a moment before rubbing my eyes. I knew this moment would also come, but I wished that it had never happened. But what can I do? It's not on me to stop them.
I simply placed their bets and looked at the screen. I switched screens to the live game and watched it. This night is really too long to go.
The clock has passed every aspect in me. It's already been 2 hours. The players had even taken a break. I closed the betting window and looked at the ceiling.
"This is my life."
Yes, it is what it is. This is my job. In the world, there are many people who have too much money that they can afford to spend it randomly on anything. They sometimes fight over something that does not exist or argue over what they like but the other person does not. At that point, people like me come into their life stories. If I put it simply, everyone loves to make bets on something they dearly want to be on top, and I am one of those people that puts it on a match with someone else's favorite souvenirs.
I act as a middleman who takes their bets, compares them, and after the match, I give the money to the winning party. And in between this, I get my charge of compensation. It isn't actually easy. For coming up to here, I had studied about a lot of sports, their histories, winning countries' current scenarios, the time when every match occurs, and the countries which are very far from the game. I had given too much of my time in the library just on all of this.
This isn't much and my income is also not fixed. It all depends on how many users are making bets and on what types of games are happening. If I compare myself with him, then I can say Nathan has the upper hand in this thing. Not only does he have a stable job, but he is an engineer on top of everything. Sometimes I wish I also had fixed working hours and didn't need to work at any random time in the day. Work just comes up every time when there is a sports event.
A person like me, I take bets on more than 15 different games and people bet on everything. Like, what does it mean that Rohit Sharma will eat gum today or not? Sometimes it's very bothering, and whenever a big celebrity comes to watch the match, the stakes just go too high. Sometimes even Horseshoe crashes, but I guess there is nothing I can do about it. I thought of sleeping a little, but my mind can't really think straight. There are too many things going on and I am just worried.
"Would she be okay?"
"Shall I call her?"
I took my phone, but her words returned: 'Don't call me, I need to figure things out myself.'
But could everything be okay? I threw my phone on the bed and stood up. On the walls, there were cake stains that were still present. I shouldn't have reacted like that; my past shouldn't come in front of my present. What happened is now gone and there's nothing to do about it. I looked at the mirror and stared blankly at myself.
Suddenly my phone rang; I saw the notifications. There were messages from the person I didn't think would communicate with me at this hour. What could have come to his mind? It might be around 4 or 5 AM in Japan right now. Why is he messaging me right now? I took my phone and read the messages.
-It's already over.
-We are not together now.
"WHAT?"
My eyes shook as I read those messages. How can that happen to him? I never really imagined that he could also fall into these pits. I decided to call him. I knew it might be rude to ask him over the phone call, but I wanted to know if he was alright or not.
"Hey, Dylan."
"Hey."
"You got my message?"
"Yeah, I just read it. Is everything all right?"
"You can say it didn't work out between us."
"...…"
"Are you there, Dylan? Hello."
"Yeah, yeah, I am here."
"I am the one who got a breakup, why did you become silent?"
[A distant voice called out on the other end of the line.]
'Kei'
"Yeah, coming."
[Kei replied away from the receiver. He sighed back into the phone]
"Who is there?"
"Nothing, just a friend. Hey Dylan, I have to go right now, I will talk to you later."
"Wait, when are you coming back?"
"Can't say right now, maybe in a month or two."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I will tell you before coming."
'Kei.'
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, I gotta go, bye."
[The person Dylan just talked to walked over and ran to a girl who was waiting for him. They both walked together somewhere.]
I disconnected the call and wondered what could have really happened. The person whom I have always looked up to also has problems in his relationship. I guess this is life, when you think that your life is going bad and everyone other than you is enjoying themselves, you always forget that they are the main characters of their own stories. They all are fighting their own struggles. They are also trying to cope in their lives. You shouldn't run away from your own fights.
I put my phone in my pocket and headed downstairs. The whole house feels empty right now. Until now, me and Nathan had made it a complete home. Every piece of furniture, every item that was placed in this house, we both had shopped for together.
The TV—I remembered the moment when we bought this, we both had argued over who would watch their show. I remembered the moment as I lurked into the past.
'No, I wanna watch the SmackDown.'
'NO, F1.'
'SmackDown.'
'F1.'
Then he got angry and ran toward me. I jumped behind the sofa, manipulating him into throwing the remote on one side. I ran toward our bedroom with all my might. At the last moment, when I didn't have any place to go, he caught me.
Wrapping both of my hands with his one hand, he looked me in the eyes and snatched the remote. I pouted angrily.
'That's not fair.'
*Puff**Puff*
He kissed me without even telling. My eyes shook and I turned red like a tomato.
'Wh—Wh—What are you doing?'
He kissed me again, saying,
'I guess we ain't gonna watch anything instead of each other.'
I smiled and kissed him back. That was really a special moment for me.
Not only that, but when we got this dinner table, that moment was also something. When we first got it.
'Nathan, isn't this too big for our heights?'
'What are you talking about? Leave me, I am busy.'
I sat on the chair and asked,
'I again ask you, why are you cooking? I could have done it.'
'Shut up. It's a new table and I will be the first one to make something that shall be put up on it. And now it's ready.'
Nathan put the hot pot directly on the table. I looked at it and I could see the food was actually almost at my eye level. It was even hard for me to pick it up from the side. I took it the harder way and finally tasted it. I couldn't believe myself; how can something so easy also be cooked in such a wrong way? I smiled while the gravy poured out of my mouth. Nathan handed me a tissue, asking with a smile,
'How is it?'
'Well, it's good, really good.'
I said it with a fake smile. What can I do? It's his first time making food. After that, he took a bowl and tried it on his own. His eyes shook, and he looked down to the floor in a serious manner.
'It's so bad.'
He also gets it. I am glad he did. But the expression he gave—he was feeling more than insulted by it. I decided to console him,
'Nathan, look, it's your first try and it's common to make mistakes.'
'I understand what's wrong.'
'.....'
'It's all this table's fault.'
My jaw dropped at his words and I couldn't figure out the meaning behind them.
'What do you mean?'
'Just look at it. Because this table is so high, the smell didn't get into the nose properly, and the mouth can't reciprocate the taste either.'
My eyes were stunned at his words. Then why were you making a fuss when this is your point, dumbass? Well, the next thing I remember, a carpenter came to our house and cut the table's legs to our heights. Well, it was good; at least we could see the food properly no matter how bad it was. After that, I took the whole kitchen duty. Not only that, I even taught him how to make food properly. I figured he would learn it someday.
As I was walking, my hand pushed something and it fell from the table. It was my car keys. I took them up—the only thing which was not ours in the whole house. I remembered the words as I looked down at them.
'I know you are scared of me, but please take this. It will make me feel that I am with you.'
Those were the last words he said before I left that place. As I snapped back, I looked onto them very thoroughly. I remembered that I had decided that I would never use them in my life. But, I guess life can never change. I accidentally needed to use them because I had to find Samayra. Because of her, I had to break the promise that I made with myself. Everyone changes and I guess change had also started in me. I am always ready to take the most extreme paths for her that I have never taken in my life. Why is that? I guess it will always be with me, and I will never tell her that. It had also reminded me of something.
"Shall I do it?"
I asked myself. Would it be the right time now? I wasn't sure if I was ready or not for it, and there was only one way to find out. I ran to my bedroom, opened my bedside drawer, and grabbed a key. It was a key wrapped with a small, dirty piece of cloth as its keychain. I looked at it and smiled.
"I still have this left over."
I walked downstairs, feeling desperate. I stopped by the room—the room with the grey gate. I was sure of everything, but opening it had always made me tense. Whom am I fooling, myself? I recently opened it and, without even realizing, I was hiding in that room. Maybe my past self can never let go of me and I have to live with it no matter what happens. I am having this duality of conversation with myself and I don't know what to make of it.
This door was actually special. When this room was made, they made a small dysfunctionality in the gate's opening. I grabbed the door knob and twisted it: 2 times left, then 3 right, and then again 2 times left. The door opened.
I switched on the lights and looked around the room. Opening this door was always like opening a secret treasure room. Well, what this room contained was always important to me; not only that, it had something that kept me sane up until now. I looked around with a serious expression on my face.
The whole room was empty and there were only two things: a steel almirah with a cracked passcode lock and a small drawer. I stood in front of the almirah and opened it. I sighed. After looking inside, I still thought: is there really a chance that I will ever change? The whole almirah was filled with cans of anxiety pills. All of them were partially empty or some of them were assembled here as new. Some of them were even never touched by me. I took one can which was in front of me and looked at it. I smiled with disgrace.
"This was the one I took recently."
How can I tell myself to even change when I can't even stand on my own feet? I put it back and closed the almirah. This was not what I had come here for; I looked at the small drawer and moved toward it. I looked at it and gulped. Am I really ready for it? I opened it with the small key I had.
*Click*
As it made the sound, my heartbeat raised steadily. With every second, I recalled to myself: Am I ready? Am I ready? NO, I have to fight it and open it up.
I opened the drawer and there was a small phone in it. My hands became sweaty as I took it. My mind was getting more and more tense with every second it was in my hand.
"NO, you have to do it."
I switched it ON and looked at it in a serious manner. This was the first phone of my life that I ever got. I looked at it and there was a missed call from an unsaved number. I checked the call logs and what I thought was correct. I smirked and then laughed after seeing it. There were calls on every day; not a single day was left when there was a call not made. I took it over and tried to dial it back. But as I tried to call the number, my hand just didn't move.
"Why, why can't I still do it?"
I was sweaty and I was having a big headache. Putting the phone back into the drawer, I locked it up and left the key there. I stood in front of the almirah and took one of the cans.
"One pill. Only one, it will not hurt, it will—"
I looked at it and was about to eat it when suddenly I remembered the moment I reacted with Samayra. The fear I saw in her eyes because of me. I can't believe I made her afraid. I did it because I wasn't able to control my anxiety at that moment. It made me someone I hate the most. I grabbed the can tightly and threw it inside.
The whole building block of cans fell, and from some of them, the pills moved outside, creating a big hazard in the space. I just stood there, looking down at the ground, and said,
"I can be a big idiot, but I will not be someone that makes someone like her cry."
I locked the door of that room and came out into the living room. Why is it so much pressure for me?
*Huff* *Huff*
I took a deep breath before doing something. Then my phone rang; it was Miraj again. I looked at the wall clock; it was about time for me to get back on the channel from before. I picked up the call and he talked to me in a sophisticated manner.
"Dude, where are you?"
"I am coming back. Just give me 5 minutes."
"Well, you might hurry up. These kids are really slow and undertrained. I need someone I can rely on for this much load."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I will get back on my computer."
As I walked out, the lamp got pushed over and glass fragments broke. Just now I was going to do something and this superstition also happened. What bad can even happen now? I slapped lightly on my right cheek and ran to get the broom and pan. I wish this night shall end now. Or otherwise, I will need a sun outside for my mind's peace.
I cleaned the whole floor and threw the glass into the dustbin. Before doing it, I packed it into a fully covered box. I think it is good to do it like this. Even workers might get hurt if they touch it directly. I started looking under the shelf in case any piece was left there. But there was nothing. As I was about to get up, my eyes saw something and I stopped for a moment. I dragged my hand forward and took it out. It was stuck between the novel shelf and a small wooden shelf beside it. I took it in my hand carefully and watched it with glowing eyes.
It was Samayra's Sword-Hearted Pendant. The pendant was shiny, as if it were newly bought. The whole outer covering is decorated with pearls like diamond fragments. The center is occupied by a blood red ruby crystal. From the back, it has a pocket-like structure to hold the sword. The sword is also made of diamond-like shiny fragments. I looked at it in harmony when Samayra's face came into my mind.
'You are my best friend, Dylan.'
"I am sorry, Samayra."
[Miraj is having a party thrown and is waiting for Dylan to join the channel.]
"How long will you take?"
[He gets a call from Dylan and immediately takes it.]
"Hello."
"Sorry, Miraj. I guess tonight you have to handle everything on your own."
"Wait, what happened?"
"I have to solve a problem."
I disconnected the call and looked at the pendant again. I am sorry, Samayra. I might not be able to keep the promise.