Iridescent

MARGAUX

I slowly opened my eyes, finding myself staring at a starless sky. Wanting to change the scenery, I pulled myself away from leaning on the wall behind me and let my eyes gaze on the view of the nearby city visible from the balcony of the apartment that Mary and I shared.

A cold breeze blew by biting through the poly-cotton fabric of the windbreaker that I was wearing. I let myself shiver, watching the city that never seemed to sleep. The bright collection of lights seemed to have made up for the lack of stars up above the skies. Some lights even appeared to be blinking and changing colors every now and then.

The blinking lights reminded me of Christmas. It was only then that I realized that it was already December.

Time flew way too fast. Soon, all the streets would be bustling with Christmas songs and carolers. Everyone would be happy and end up sending smiles to each person whom they may come across, the spirit of Christmas warming their hearts.

I let out a bitter laugh.

"What is Christmas?" I muttered.

I threw myself back against the wall, remembering that only a few hours ago, I had won. I won over the Mafia Boss of Rhythm. I should be celebrating. However, I can't bring myself to do so.

Allowing myself to look up towards the starless sky once again, I blew out a sigh.

"I miss you," I whispered, my mind instantly getting flooded by memories of my family and the Christmases that we have had.

If they had been alive, in times like this, the only thing that I would be stressing over was to find the perfect gift for each and every member of my family.

If they had been alive, we would be having our first Christmas with Madelein's baby. There will be a new tradition to welcome the newest member of our family. And then with the exception of the little angel, the rest of us would stay up late and watch some horror movie.

I smiled, imagine, a horror movie on Christmas Eve. My sister and I were crazy.

I blinked, my vision beginning to blur as tears formed in my eyes.

"Crap," I muttered, sniffing and wiping at my eyes. My heart felt so heavy all of a sudden.

Covering my eyes with my left hand, I allowed myself to cry, tears flowed freely down my cheeks.

Before I felt Mary's hands pulling me towards her, the sweet floral smell of her perfume wafted through my nose.

Despite not wanting her to see me like this, I let Mary hold me.

"I thought I was done crying," I said to her in between sobs.

"Shh," came her response which made me cry even further as she stroked my hair.

"I miss them, Mary. I miss them so bad, I wish I could just die and be with them," gently pulling away, Mary made me look at her.

It turned out, I wasn't the only one crying, her eyes were moist too and as she held my gaze, a single tear had escaped, rolling down her face.

"You're not the only one wishing that," she sniffed. "But Margie, we can't die. You can't die. At least not yet. Your father, I'm pretty sure that he is so proud of you. Your entire family is rooting for you, Margie. They would want you to live,"

I shut my eyes close, wiping my tears away before looking towards Mary.

"Your family is too, Mary. They are probably jumping for joy, their hearts swelling with pride. All of our families are rooting for us," laughing, I found myself back in Mary's arms, but instead of tears, we were now sharing some laughs.

"What would I do without you?" I whispered in her ears.

I'm lucky. I'm lucky to have her as my friend. I'm lucky that despite everything, I was never alone.

"You would have probably gone crazy," I can't help but chuckle.

"You're probably right,"

--

KEVIN

The city blur past me. One thing that I loved about riding my motorcycle at night was the feel of the cool wind fighting against the various materials of my clothing and how the iridescent lights seem to dance in my line of vision.

Additionally, it helps to clear my mind. The events of the evening were bothering me. Aside from the embarrassment, I can't help but wonder who Rose was. I highly doubt that it was even her real name.

I felt intrigued and at the same time frustrated. I honestly have no idea what happened. I wasn't usually that distracted during a fight. There must be something about her.

Finally leaving the main road, I made a left turn, making it through our street. Spotting my father's car parked in the driveway, I positioned my bike beside it.

Killing the engine, I adjusted the side stand with my feet, taking off the helmet right after.

My throat felt dry. I licked my lips and flinched.

"Ah, heck," I muttered, placing my helmet on the handle of the motorcycle and briefly pulled the key from the ignition.

The lights from the house were dim. I could speculate that my father was either asleep already or he was watching wrestling from the living room. I was hoping it was the former, that way, he won't see the cut on my lip and ask me about it.

I blew out a sigh. Who was I kidding? Even when he doesn't see it tonight, he would still see it the next day. Either way, I had no escape.

Pulling out the house key from my pants pockets, I gently inserted the key on the keyhole of the door handle. The faint click coming from the inside was always a relief.

Home is home. Despite the secret that I'm keeping from my father, being involved in the Mafia, home is where I felt at peace.

Careful not to make so much noise in case my father was already asleep, I turned the knob ever so slowly, tiptoeing my way inside the house.

My father was a light sleeper. It came with the job. He had said once when I complained about it.

Once inside, the sound of the television rang in my ears. It seemed that the second option was what was happening right now.

"Kev?" I sighed. I guess it was better to be over and done with this right now than try and explain it tomorrow. Whether I liked it or not, I had no choice.

Making my way towards the living room, the sound of the wrestling coming from the television was getting louder. I wonder how he had known that I just came in.

"Dad," I said, approaching my father. He was lying on the couch. I took his right hand and had the back of it lightly brushed my forehead*.

He smiled then his eyes narrowed probably catching sight of the small cut on my lower lip.

In one fluid motion, my father got up, turned on the lights and took a good look at my face.

"Did you get into a fight?" I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, remembering that this "fight" was with a woman. Furthermore, I was knocked out cold without even being able to lift a single finger in an attempt to counter her attacks.

"Sort of," I said. I was expecting that he would reprimand me or at least look disappointed. The last time that I had gone home with a bruise on my face, I heard quite an earful of 'you shouldn't be doing this and that' and 'your focus should be on your studies and not taking part in brawls' blah blah blah.

However, neither of those took place. Instead, my father had me sit down on the couch.

"I'll just grab the medicine kit, you stay put," I blinked, nodding my head in response.

I did as I was told. Upon coming back. I watched my father pull a cotton swab from the kit drenching it with a wound solution.

I flinched, feeling the sting as the swab made contact with the cut on my lip.

"I trust you, Kev. You are already an adult after all," I remained silent, sensing that his speech was yet to be done.

It took two or three more dabs before my father had finally put away the swab and was now looking at me.

"I'd appreciate it if you stay out of trouble. Remember what I had told you before? If I ever see you at the precinct, guilty of something, I won't lift a finger. You will have to pay for the wrong that you have done. I hope you keep that in mind."

Forcing a smile which I realized a little late was a mistake, I raised my right hand in salute.

"Sir, yes sir." I said.

--

*This is a gesture in the Philippines known as "Pagmamano". It is a sign of respect for the elderly. It is usually done with the doer saying "Mano po".