The Candy Man

'Monday...fucking Monday.'

Was the first thing Rowland thought as he woke up for no apparent reason. It wasn't even five in the morning yet as his phone flashed thirty three minutes past three in the morning. He couldn't remember his dream, he woke up too fast.

Suddenly feeling the urge to go to the bathroom, he left for the toilet knowing he was never going to go back to sleep.

The neon light above the fridge shone and made the small apartment glow a light pink that changed the colours of the very walls. On Rowland's way back he noticed the little lights on her vanity that mixed with the light pink glow on the bedroom's bare poster filled walls. Charlotte moved towards the middle of the bed and Rowland saw the moment to take a few photos shots of her with his phone and to take a shower.

Walking out a clean man, bearing the pep in his step to match. Rowland stepped out of her bathroom and found Charlotte awake and sitting on the bed.

"I was really looking forward to seconds.", she said with a seductive smile as she played with the jacket's zipper. Rowland bit his lower lip and smiled; "Don't do this to me now.", he said as he climbed the bed with nothing but a towel on his waist and sat face to face with her for a kiss.

"Er..", she began, "Did you steal some of my mouth wash..?", she farrowed her eyebrows.

"Yeah, didn't you steal my camera?", he smiled as he played the, 'tit-for-tat' card. But truly for the sake of his camera.

"Touché.", she said, giggling.

Rowland jumped off the bed and put on his shirt;

"I could drop you off...", Charlotte stated as she walked towards her vanity table and opened one of the draws, looking for his camera.

"Nah, I'll just catch a cab or something.", he laced his shoes in no rush as he spoke. The sun already adding a cool gradient to the dark blue horizon but just not enough to mask the twinkling stars.

"It's still dark out, though.", Charlotte said with concern, having finally found his camera which she then handed to him as he stood up to leave.

"I'll be fine, I need the exercise anyway.", he said while fiddling around with the lens, he knocked his head on hers in such a way as not to hurt either one of them, and then exited the room, heading for the front door with Charlotte following him. Now standing in the door frame of her bedroom, watching Rowland as he opened the door to leave.

"Love you, bye.", he said without a second thought and as the door slammed behind him.

The loud bang made something in his head click, he had just said that he loved Charlotte for the first time in their entire relationship and it freaked him out. He hesitated by the door, turning to leave and then turning back, doing that at least three times. For, he didn't know if he meant it if that wasn't what she wanted, but, that would only mean that what they had was...or could be...

He didn't know what to call it if not what he thought it was... Is:

'"Love".?,tss, no. ', Rowland walked off with a nervous laugh under his breath.

But what scared Rowland the most was what Charlotte's reaction was to those words.

"Shit.", he whispered under his breath while rubbing his head, for the most part to fluff up his coarse afro.

'shit...', he repeated to himself.

Walking the cold weather away as the sun rose higher into the sky, bringing people to life. And turning the streets into busy-car hoarded parades of melancholy mascots wearing the masks of gloom and fatigue, anger and frustration; dragging their feet and starting their day on the opposite side of the bed.

Not truly a good start to the day so far, but Rowland was doing just fine. His birthday was coming up, and although he wasn't the type to get excited about such events, it seemed as though in some way, it came early. And with it on the way, Rowland felt that this time it won't be so dull or vaguely backwards. His mother always made sure that she at least sent him a card or something around this time of season as his home in which his mother raised him, was actually in Seattle.

His home away from this place called "home", away from home as he moved from place to place quite a lot. But last time he checked he lived there due to his mother's employment arrangements.

Although she was never home, mostly because she was working as a nurse but always on such occasions did she bring back a small cake or candy he fancied. But there was always a gloomy elephant that sat in the room when this day came, like clockwork.

Always new neighbours in new places but nothing was ever new. Not because the architects of these places lacked imagination but because the people did, in terms of their social spectrum.

The world grows but rather in quantity than quality (apart from that being true altogether), it personally hurt Rowland when those who truly stuck to their assumptions about him and held those assumptions against him violently.

Rowland knew others had their fair share of mistreatment, he felt that he was somehow... an outlet of their misunderstandings of him. But Rowland learned how to fight them off, not only himself but also those who wished to fight him. Until he realised he shouldn't be fighting himself.

Then suddenly in some way, Rowland felt that he could contend those said offenders and that they would be fucked.

His day had started the same and ended the same way, as he clocked out of work and on his way home. Hours had passed and he managed to muster the energy to check on how much work he has missed in the past week of school in reference to a Punk Rock band's poster that which he spotted on the concrete floor, with a small lead singer wearing a sexy-cute Japanese school girl uniform on his way home.

And while Rowland was walking, on his way to class he noticed a white vintage car parked near his apartment building, feeling the stare of someone seated on the car's bonnet wearing dark black clothing while smoking and almost completely shadowed, if not for the street lamp lights. Rowland slowed his pace and figured it was Nick, but carried on walking for awhile until he got close enough to see from the other side of the street.

Rowland was tempted to just walk past and see what Nick would do but ended up crossing the street instead (possibly also looking to get a free ride out of it).

"Yo!", Nick said once he noticed Rowland coming his way; "'Was afraid you wouldn't see me.", he said.

"How could I not with that car of yours. And your brightly coloured clothing.", Rowland said as they exchanged handshakes.

"C'mon, let's go grab a drink, we have business to discuss.", Nick said as he swung a clenched fist from his side and hit Rowland on the shoulder, dropping the cigarette bud that was in his hand and got up from his seated position.

"Dude, we have class. We've been missing class for, like...the past week.", Rowland said this as if to remind him, but Nick's reaction to that statement was a shrug of his shoulders and his signature smile.

"Please.", Nick scoffed, "Hop in.", he beckoned as he opened his door and climbed into the stallion. Rowland followed.

"So, you're saying that their is no point to higher education, is that what you're saying here.?", Rowland asked once he got in, challenging Nick to see if he could justify that statement.

"I mean,...", Nick began, twisting his face in contemplation before he answered;

"Higher education is obviously necessary, it's just unnecessary to go to some class room to get it. I mean, that is what a library is for, free access to the people. But... Y'know, if they're up for it.", Nick finished as he shrugged his shoulders, this comment made him sound clumsy but Rowland allowed him to continue; "I mean, it's human nature to be instinctively curious, I feel that knowledge is why it was put there in the first place, a library of course. But we've dumbed the necessity of creativity and curiosity down so much into some...enthusiasm-draining reiterations of half truths and historical hearsay, that many have contributed to the loss of many millions' of appetites. We go to class to learn what,... business and all any professor talks about is profit and personal financial stability while keeping your employees' happy in the hopes that no-one puts up their hand and asks if ever they was a way to stop this sickening 'boom-bust-boom' cycle that this country has fallen into financially since the twenties, and why we haven't been talking about...how we're feeding into a bigger problem, despite how prestigious the university may be. So we get fed into said bigger problem, and the corporate bubbles created by this cycle. In the hopes that we don't get fucked six ways 'till Sunday. And that is one reason among many why school is stupid.", Nick said with a slight tone of irritation aimed towards the education systems of the world in general and it's supposedly overlooked flaws.

Rowland was surprised by his answer, having half-expected a dim speech of privilege as Nick seemed so rich, that he needn't pay attention, yet he continued; "Besides, you can't teach a fish to climb a tree, right? I mean maths and science is, tss great, but I think they can solve their own problems for a change.", but instead he gave his wisdom of scholar'd old money or rather the information that which old money was trying to hide all along, either way that made sense to Rowland.

"Boom bust boom...", Rowland repeated, having heard the phrase before.

'At least his not wasteful', Rowland thought as Nick interested him with his conversation.

Though in truth, he honestly hated school, but would seemed to enjoy an intellectual challenge once in awhile. It made talking to people worth while to him.

"So what, we climb our way up to the top, until there's no point in looking bellow any more, right?", Rowland asked as he stared out the window for a moment and blinked at a vagrant who was minding his own business as he stood by a fire in a garbage can, otherwise shadowed by the alley in which they stood.

"Pretty much,...", Nick sighed, "I mean, don't get me wrong, helping out sometimes is rewarding. But, it's more fun to watch."

Rowland didn't really know what Nick meant by that last part but it carried a dislikeable tone, as they drove onto the highway.

The lights of which swung hypnotically, in and out of the car with every bright street lamp they past.

"It might help if teachers got paid more.", Rowland joked, though Nick seemed to have had a light bulb flick on in his head as Rowland said this while he looked for parking.

"Y'know, if we celebrated our teachers the way we celebrated our football stars, I feel that the world would be better for it.", Nick laughed, they both imagined sports channels turning into academic mathalons and spelling bees with children wanting to be librarians or professors instead of football players and pop stars.

"I'm pretty sure teachers don't get paid enough to deal with someone else's brat, y'know.", Nick added on, as they walked into a restaurant just aways from Nick's place as they took the same roads, but turned somewhere into a street filled with rustic locale-like night cafés and bars.

Located in between homey yet rustic bakeries as well as a book store that was obviously closed at this time.

Rowland felt underdressed as many people seated were wearing rather pressed, clean and fashionable clothing; and hoping he had enough money in his credit card to do so much as afford a drink in such a place.

They both sat down, under the El fresco out looking the hipster avantgarde of the street's night life.

Nick ordered drinks, starting with a bottle of Rosé for the table, sitting there in silence after the waiter had gone before once again, Nick spoke.

"How badly do you want this?", he was a completely different person from the Nick that Rowland drove there with.

Seated with an elbow on each arm rest, resting his back on his chair and clasping his hands just under his straight nose, only allowing his eyes to be seen, glaring at Rowland from across the square, linen napkin-covered table.

Shaped with eternal boredom as Nick's eyes rest upon Rowland's face while waiting for their (or rather, Nick's) order.

His eyes always look sad or upset yet, Nick always seemed to have a smile on his face that was now covered by his hands.

Rowland was forced to look at Nick's piercing, cold and stormy grey ocean eyes, shaded by his low set eyelids, and filled with confidence.

Rowland blinked at him for a moment and then looked up in thought;

"To be quite honest, I never really knew what I was going to do with my life, what I am doing with my life. I mean, I've been washing dishes for five Fucking years, Jesus Christ! Shit, I never saw an opportunity...", he furrowed and raised his eyebrows in confusion as he said this; the last part being mostly to himself as he rubbed an aching brow once Rowland realised how redundant his world had become without him noticing he closed his eyes for a moment, having no-one else to blame; "Why not give this a try?", he chuckled nervously before taking a rather large swig of his glass of sweet wine.

"I'm serious, Row.", Nick managed to annunciate through his fingers, among the surrounding low hum of sophisticated social speech and behavior, as he raised an eyebrow.

Rowland sighed, he knew that wasn't convincing.

"You can use this opportunity to prove to the world...", Nick piled onto Rowland who was already raking his brain as he continued; "Whatever it is you want to show them but the true question is when are you gonna make your move?"

Nick leaned on the table as he asked this, clenching his sharp jaw in concentration of an answer as he watched Rowland.

Rowland felt grilled with questions he never thought he'd ever live long enough to have an answer to. He was twenty one years, going on twenty two and had no prospects apart from finishing college and paying the rent on time and in all that time, the lack of trust he has had in his own artistic skills has lead him astray.

Leaving him to believe he aught to keep his day job. But he felt that now he knew better.

"Look, I may not know why just yet but dammit, I gotta try how far I can take this opportunity. I know...", he sighed "That I can not be... Decisive at times, but fuck, I never in a million years thought that I would bump into someone like you. ", Rowland finally answered, which earned the signature yet strangely knowing smile that Nick always flashed though something changed in his eyes.

"By the way, what were you doing at the college in the first place? ", Rowland asked before Nick suddenly broke away from the conversation, by swiftly swiping his glass from off of the table, drinking the last bit of his wine.

"Good, I was starting to smell bacon with all that thinking.", Nick stated, "From me I mean, tying to figure out if you were with me on this or not."

Nick slid a small black card onto the table with the words 'ONIMINO' written in sliver with a bold font and fine print on the other side including what Rowland assumed was Nick's phone number, right under the words 'N. Volknov'.

'What a strange surname...', Rowland thought, but what did he know about Russian surnames.

"You didn't quite answer my question.", Rowland pressed.

Nick sighed and looked at Rowland as he said:

"I like to do my own research, figured I could find the 'oh so elusive', DeVile,", he glanced at Rowland and continued;

"That some friends of mine were talking about some time ago.", he coolly poured himself wine.

"These friends..?", Rowland asked.

"Journalists. They've been running around looking for you, but clearly not in the right places.", Nick stated.

"That's where I come in."

Rowland blinked:

"Okay."

" You'll be sending me your banking details and I'll transfer the money for my payment of that sketch you just did.", Nick sat back in his chair. Tapping a finger on the card between them;

"That's my business number but for you, I'll make an exception.", he finished his sentence with the last bit of wine he had on his glass. Rowland had completely forgotten about the sketch he did that Tuesday night, mostly because it was glossed over by all that had happened earlier that very same day.

Rowland huffed a bout of laughter out of disbelief of his situation and smiled as he spoke:

"Who are you?"

"The candy man.", Nick smiled and said loosely; apposed to who he was a minute ago, he was the Nick that Rowland knew once again.

"Is that a name meant for a rather different set of 'friends'..?", Rowland asked comfortably.

"Oh, Heavens no.", Nick chuckled, "Why, your girlfriend got you curious?", He raised an eyebrow.

"Something like that.", Rowland answered.

"Well, to answer your question, no, that's not my... 'name'.", Nick played with the superficial amount of light pink wine that remained within his glass, swirling it around as he spoke.

"Care to share..? ", Rowland asked.

"Nah,", Nick answered to Rowland's disappointment, " You know the rules, members only.", he smirked.

"C'mon, let's get out of here. This Rosé left a strange taste in my mouth.", he said while signaling for the check; which was given to him by a chubby yet sweet looking young Indian lady about Rowland's age, who wasn't serving them earlier but seemed willing as she almost hit another waiter on her way to their table.

Rowland was flattered by the apparent yet subtle attention his art works were getting but would never admit to this.

"Thanks." Rowland said," I appreciate your faith in me."

Nick raised his empty glass slightly as he bowed his head slowly in acknowledgement.

"But if I could ask...how old are you?", Rowland continued.

Nick put down his glass and answered:

"Twenty five, I know I sometimes don't act my age.", Rowland laughed at this, for it was true on both planes of the spectrum. He sometimes acted like a child though, he seemed to believe himself wise and experienced.

When the waitress came back with the bill, an extra piece of paper was found within the leather sleeve of the check book. It was found to be her phone number which gave Nick an extra gleam in his smile.

It seemed that so far, the name held true to Rowland. Nick seems to be a passing for normal human being, he was alright with that.

Nick looked at him;

"What?"

"You gonna call that number?", Rowland raised an eyebrow and smirked knowingly.

"Hmm.", Nick hummed in contemplation as he watched her walk away and tend to another table, "Maybe, she's juicy...", he stared off after her for a moment, before continuing:

"Maybe another time."

Nick got up and took his paper with him;

"It's past your bedtime."

"Pfft, fuck off.", Rowland laughed.

"Tss, rude.", Nick replied with a smirk.