I should've lied instead.

"Are you sure about that?" I decided to double-check.

"Not at all," Olivia whispered. "But at the same time, I am really curious. In a morbid kind of way."

Hm, couldn't say I understand it all that much, but it's her choice anyway. Then again, where do I even start with Bella?

"Where do I even start?" I repeated, this time aloud. "Anything in particular you want to know?"

"Something. Anything. I don't know!" I could hear frustration in her voice. "Is she beautiful? You know, if we are supposed to, erm, share a man, she better look at least as good as I am!"

"Yeah. She is beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Bloody gorgeous. In my subjective ranking, there is only one other woman who is above her in the pure looks department. And believe me, I've seen a lot of them." I ignored the already familiar pang of the feeling that I'm forgetting something important and continued. "Oh, don't make such a face. You aren't quite on par yet, but in a few years you should have a fighting chance. Probably."

Another pause to gather my thoughts.

"Her name is Bella. Isabella Alvarez. She is a stubborn, hotheaded, adulterous bitch of a woman. Seriously, I heard people calling her cold and unfeeling, but I call bullshit," I chuckled. "It's always so intense with her, like playing with a fire. One moment it looks so beautiful, dancing in front of your eyes, and the next moment you are in the middle of an inferno. I've burned myself so many times already, yet every last bit of my being looking forward to doing it all over again."

I sensed the girl in my arms stiffen a bit more. From our current position, I couldn't see what kind of expression she had on her face. Anyway, something told me it wasn't all that pleasant.

"Sounds like she is someone special to you," bitter words left her mouth.

"Yeah. Very much so. Without her, my world would've been a much, much worse place." A series of memories from the last five years went through my mind in a quick succession. "I would gladly trade my life for hers, if there was a chance."

"Why not just be with her then? If she is oh-so beautiful, wonderful and important to you?" Even more bitterness in her tone.

"Because I can't. Not with her. Not with anyone else. Do you think I never tried before? Six months, a year maximum." A few more flashbacks. Faces. Names. Pain. Disappointment. Boredom. "Then I lose interest. Or find someone who is more interesting. And it all goes right back to the starting point."

"And where am I in this cycle of yours?" I heard another whisper.

"Right at the starting point. Someone new that occupied my whole attention. You are interesting. I want to see more of you. Expressions. Voices. Your smell. Your taste. What makes you tick, what makes you smile?" I felt a smile on my face. Just thinking about this made my boredom go away. "You know I wasn't lying, last night was the best I had for a long while. And today, everything considered, was even better. At this very moment, I would like nothing more than just honestly forget about everything and just enjoy my time with you. For a while. Not thinking about how much of your, or mine, act is genuine and how much is just that, an acting. Not worrying about the moment when I lose my interest in you."

I took a moment to catch my breath. Just imagining it. Going on dates, lazing around in a bed, maybe doing something stupid once in a while. With lots of passion in between, of course. What a great picture.

"But I just can't. Even if I could, there is always Bella." A hollow sounding chuckle left my lips. "And then there is a reality of me and my shitty nature."

"I don't think I'm in the mood any longer, for food or anything else." An uncertain amount of time later, Olivia finally replied.

She left my embrace, leaving an empty feeling in her place. I was watching how she changed back into her clothes, while keeping my silence, as there was nothing much for me to say anymore.

"Hey. About my payment," she said a few minutes later. "How much can you give me in cash right now?"

"Hm. About five grand," I did mental math. "Give or take a few hundred."

"I will take three," she said after thinking for a moment.

Currently, the girl was busy redoing the whole of her war-paint.

"OK. My wallet is in the hallway," I shrugged.

"Nah, I want you to hand the cash to me by yourself." Her request didn't make much sense to me, but okay.

"Fine," I shrugged again.

I did as she asked, and then she left. Without saying farewell. And as the apartment door closed behind her back, I felt as my boredom slowly creeped back, filling the now vacant place.

I took my phone, absentmindedly noting that we didn't exchange contacts, and went back to the room to finally charge it. A part of me wondered if she would return for the rest of the money I owed her. Not likely.

Ah. Empty, silent, dark room. Barren walls, no photos, no posters either. Not even a fucking TV. The only notable thing in this place still was only a big closet with a full-height mirror.

From inside the mirror image, a twenty-something-years younger version of myself, less bulky, without noticeable scars or tattoos, looked back at me with a familiar dead fish gaze of a dull pair of brown eyes.

I connected the charger's cable to my phone and powered it up. My head was empty for the most part. Excluding a stray thought of 'I should've just told a lie instead. As usual.' going on repeat. Hindsight is always twenty/twenty, me. What did I even expect here?

I looked at the time, nine p.m., and tapped on the messenger app, noting that it has a 'new message' icon on it. Eh, right, I got one yesterday. Obviously, it wasn't from Helen, my message still sat there unread. Huh, it was only a day, but it annoyed me this much. How bad should it have felt for her? A whole year without even 'read' status. No wonder she didn't want to have anything in common with me.

Next, I've seen a message from Bella. As usual, it was another photo. An empty bottle of red wine and a peace sign. A single word message again:

Bella: [Alive]

Well, that's all I needed to know. So, everything was alright.

I was sitting on my bed and slowly scrolling through my messages. Few party invitations, male names. Work? Buddies? No clue. Replied to every one with 'My bad, busy.' just to be polite. A few, from a first glance, female contacts asked if I was free. Same answer for the same reason. I should ask Bella to give me a rundown on who is who, she usually kept tabs on me anyway.

A strange message from an unknown number got my attention next.

@^%#&^$: [You stood me up.]

@^%#&^$: [Again.]

@^%#&^$: [You better have a good excuse ready.]

Huh, another client maybe? Someone I made plans beforehand, but didn't attend for some reason. And it wasn't the first time. Unknown number as well, did I delete the contact recently? No fucking idea whatsoever. I tapped the 'ignore' option on the contact and put the phone down on the bedside table.

What should I do now? Sleep wasn't an option, and I was pretty hungry. Food it is then. Twenty minutes later, a full plate of egg bacon fried rice with green beans stood in front of me. Yeah, not much else could've been done with the things I had in my fridge.

Now what? What a cursed question. Should I go and take a walk, looking for trouble again? Not in the mood. Should I stay here, in this barren hellhole? Even worse. Something purely physical and routine enough to take my mind off. My mind courteously provided me with an answer. My wallet had a Gym membership card, why not take the opportunity to check it out? Maybe chat up some bored fitness chick as well.

I checked my phone, and it was almost fully charged by now. Checking the name on the card and a quick search later, I got a location for the closest one. A few minutes later to get my clothes ready, with a bit extra to try and find some earbuds or headphones, I was ready.

Familiar hoodie, sweatpants and an old pair of sneakers. A change of clothes for actual work out, which paradoxically was looking fancier than my street wear. Who cares either way? I checked the map once again, fifteen minutes of a leisure walk to the place. I put my earbuds in and messed a bit with a music app, random daily playlist, let's see what kind of shit my younger self listened to.

***

It was a medium-sized gym of a medium-sized franchise. They were open twenty-four/seven and had a decent amount of equipment. As a bonus, it was just fifteen minutes of walking distance away from my apartment building. Hence, why my choice fell upon this particular gym in the first place. At least, that is my current theory. No idea why my younger self chose it.

The receptionist spared me exactly one glance, before, most likely, deciding that I am beneath her attention for more than purely work purposes. Screw you too, bitch. She was mildly attractive, but I wasn't anywhere near desperate enough to not be turned off by her attitude.

After getting my membership checked and receiving a changing room key later, I changed into a work-out set of clothes. Afterward, I wandered around a bit, trying to get a mental map of the place. Cardio zone. Functional training area/CrossFit. Free weights and resistance machines. Gotcha. A few studios for group fitness and a small boxing gym-style area, outfitted with sandbags and even a ring, completed the picture.

It was ten odd p.m. on Saturday, a pretty weird time to get a workout done. So, except for a few other weirdos like myself, this place looked pretty deserted right now. Good for me.

I finished my warm-up, completed with a stretching routine. I wasn't as flexible currently as my future self would like, another thing for me to work on. Now to the actual work-out. Yadda yadda, twenty-five years, no idea about my current limits, nor status of micro traumas. Not even when and what I was last working on. A moderate overall it is, then, to check aforementioned things.

After about an hour, I completed the last set, and was currently finishing documenting all the results. Curse you younger me, couldn't you do the same?

"Excuse me." I heard a female voice getting through the sound of music in my ears. And finally noticed that someone was shaking my shoulder. I took my eyes from the phone screen and turned to the person who was trying to get my attention.