Road Trip [3]

Ethan gets out of the car while I try to process what he could possibly mean by this place being his ‘home away from home’. I stare at him, my mind oddly distant as he opens my door. With a grand gesture outward, he laughs and beckons me out of the car.

I scoff at his dramatic chivalry.

He locks the door behind us.

“Follow me,” he says, smirking.

For a moment, Ethan and I walk in silence. I carefully cross the paths where cars drive in, noting how every car seems to be luxurious or just very well-maintained.

Some of the drivers call out to Ethan as they pass him by, and they acknowledge me as well, speaking so easily with me that it seems as though they already know me. I find it strange –yet heartwarming- how the people around here seem so charismatic. They all share this one thing in common with Ethan; effortless friendliness.

We take the elevator, exiting the parking lot.

Outside, the sun is shining just enough to softly kiss our skin. It’ll be setting in a couple hours… but right now, it feels lovely. It’s no longer stinging my eyes or fingertips. It’s just… perfect.

I look around at the tall buildings.

“Welcome to Valendale,” Ethan says, smiling and turning to find me stunned by the view. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“Huh? Yea…” I say, “I’m just taking it all in.” I remember Caesar. “Is this where you know him from? Caesar?”

“He’s one of the residents of this establishment, yes.”

I nod, impressed.

He laughs and begins walking off. I take a moment to absorb the feeling of lightness I get from this space before following him. Something about being here makes me feel… entirely content.

We enter a building that’s as tall as a skyscraper, yet so modern it seems like a wide hotel. It is carefully designed and well-constructed with wall-high glass panels, giving it quite the elegant finish. As I say goodbye to the outside breeze, the last thing I note before walking into the air conditioned room is that a window cleaner is keeping the panels spotless as he sits, hanging off the side of the building, diligently shining the tinted glass.

“What do you see?” he asks me, looking back to make sure I’m keeping up.

“Lots of people,” I note, looking around. The room we walk into is brightly lit and spacious, almost like a grand lounge. It is full of people –probably residents- having one-on-one conversations or tapping away on their laptops, most likely busily completing some form of work or another. “Lots of very busy and productive people…”

The room just beyond the lounge is separated by sliding doors which are made of very transparent glass. They would take us into a large space with a pool and a tennis court.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Ethan says, grabbing my attention, “but there’s quite a bit of people here who know about you.” He scratches the back of his neck, nervous to have said something like that.

“Awwh,” I say, giving him puppy eyes and a pout, “you talk about me? Pffft… how romantic.”

He shoves me away playfully and walks on.

As we make our way to wherever Ethan is taking me, we pass many residents seem to know Ethan quite well. They introduce themselves to me. We both laugh, Ethan and I, when one of them assumes that we’re a couple.

We make it to an elevator –one of the many that stand against this particular wall- and wait for the doors to open. A few other occupants of the space wait for the elevators as well, engaging in conversations and lightheartedly chattering while a little boy with a flashlight stands, swirling it around as though it’s a weapon, and making ‘whoosh’ noises.

I stand beside Ethan, who barely says a word. I observe the individuals around us, how they’re dressed and how they speak. Some speak in thick accents, others sound like they were born here and many of them are dressed in business casual wear –with the exception of a few teenagers in baggy sweatpants and hoodies.

I wonder, as I stare at my best friend, how he could afford to live in such a fancy place. He’s always dressed in the most casual clothes, and wears the most humble smile. As far as I knew, he lived close to the tattoo parlour so he could get to work on time… but this?

I start to question it; how much I really know about him at all.

The ‘bing’ of the elevator eventually sounds, pulling me out of my trail of thoughts. Ethan and I disappear into it; he hits a button, taking us up to the tenth floor.