Alody flicked through the pages of the newspaper, her brow furrowed as she scanned the job listings. The crisp paper felt foreign against her fingers, remnants of printing ink leaving smudges that mirrored her uncertainty. She wanted so desperately to find a job, something—anything—that would restore her sense of purpose. Yet, the familiar weight of self-doubt slipped over her like a thick fog.
"Are you not still finding a job?" Sidel asked, breaking the silence as she leaned over to hand Alody an extra newspaper. Sidel's bright brown eyes sparkled with determination, a stark contrast to Alody's lingering hesitancy.
"No, and I think it's difficult for me to find something at my level," Alody sighed, her voice trailing off. She didn't mention the meager salary she had in mind, knowing it was unrealistic for someone starting from scratch in a foreign land, away from her chaotic past.
"Are you sure you can understand enough German?" Sidel pressed, once again revealing that pragmatic edge she often carried. "Maybe that's why you're struggling."
Alody nodded slowly. "You're right. I know I should have mentioned it. I mean, what does 'Medien' even mean?"
"Medien means media," Sidel replied, her tone softening. "But working in that field is tough here. Everyone speaks German fluently. You'll find others who speak English, though, and that might help. If you know how to do your job well..."
With a small smile, Alody paused her searching to rest her chin on her hands, "I feel better when I'm here, and that's what matters. But Sidel, what's it like where you're from?"
Sidel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's it like there?"
"It's complicated," Alody grimaced, her past flashing through her mind. "I lived with my aunt, who always insists on gratitude for her money. You'd think I was her maid the way she treats me—forcing me to clean, scolding me for every little complaint." A tremor of anger crossed her face, quickly replaced by sorrow.
"Why would she be like that?" Sidel asked, her voice tinged with sympathy.
"I don't know..." Alody's voice fell to a whisper. "I've seen her treat my mother that way too. She just expects so much from me while giving so little back."
"Where's your mom now?"
"She's working in Dubai," Alody mentioned, a hint of longing in her eyes. "Sometimes I think maybe I just wanted to be here, away from her chaos, to see my sister Jasmin again. She understands me."
"You're close with my mother, then?" Sidel probed.
"Yeah, we shared a bond... she appreciates my cooking too, loves Filipino food. Adobo, tilapia... I even found a bit of comfort sharing snacks."
Sidel giggled, a bright sound that cut the heaviness in the air. "It's nice to connect with someone who understands your background. Are you happy staying here?"
"Definitely." Alody's eyes lit up. "At least here, I'm free from judgment, and I can breathe without worrying. It's amazing."
"That's great," Sidel remarked, genuinely happy for her. "My mother will be thrilled you feel that way too."
The conversation lingered on little details—ages, dreams, hopes—drawing them closer in spirit. "How old are you, Sidel?" Alody asked.
"I'm sixteen," Sidel responded, her enthusiasm bubbling over.
"That makes me nineteen," Alody smiled, feeling closer to this young girl, a juxtaposition to her own age yet filled with innocence.
"Are you finished schooling?"
"Yes, but I didn't go to college. I just want to find a job. I thought the newspaper could help, but this is just my first day here. I know it won't be easy." The weight of her uncertainty returned, even amongst their camaraderie.
"You're always welcome here," Sidel reassured her, sincerity lacing her words. "You came a long way, don't forget that."
Alody thought about the long flight that had separated her from a life of turmoil. "Yes, but I suppose waiting isn't so bad. I'm patient. I can wait for your mother."
"Patience is good," Sidel replied, smiling as a flicker of hope sparked in Alody's heart, growing amidst the shadows of her past. They had each other now, and with that, she felt ready to face whatever came next.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow upon the quiet house where Fabienne was perched outside, curled up on a rickety chair. In one hand, she clutched a cigarette, its smoke swirling like the chaotic thoughts in her mind. She exhaled sharply, trying to banish the melancholy that clung to her like a second skin. The burning tip of the cigarette glowed, illuminating the anger etched across her face. She slammed her fist down onto the table beside her, the wood groaning in protest. That's when Wilfred stepped out.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. Fabienne flinched at the sound, turning her gaze to the ground.
"It's not your business," she snapped, her words laced with venom.
Wilfred leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, clearly unperturbed. "Wow, and do you think it's not my business to find out about what you're doing?"
Fabienne rolled her eyes. "I think we shouldn't talk. I told you before, I never liked you in the first place. It's just this damn infatuation."
"Now I can't believe you're so expressive when you're angry," he taunted, a faint smirk on his lips.
Her gaze snapped to him, igniting a fire in her chest. "I just don't want to feel like this. And if you're going to tease me, you might as well remember Janina's issue. Maybe you've forgotten about that already."
"I never forgot that," he shot back. "And let me remind you, if you're going to report it to the police, I'll—"
"Rape you? Wow, what a word," he mocked, stepping forward, his bravado a mask for the fear that coiled tightly in his gut. "Do you think I'm afraid of you? Like I said, you can do whatever you want with me, and we had fun together. Did you have fun playing the game with Dirk for the past few years?"
"Dirk told me to do so!" he shouted back, the desperation creeping into his voice.
"So you have to be honest and faithful to him," she countered, calm but fierce. "You know he was doing wrong, and you're just like him. You can't deny that."
"What do I have to deny? I'm not denying anything," he said, but the tremor of uncertainty echoed in his words. "You think you can scare me?"
"I'm not trying to scare you, but let's see if you even have a conscience about what you're doing. You want to end up in prison forever?"
"What are you trying to tell me?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the night air.
"I can't believe you're here trying to make me feel guilty. Is that your way of showing concern for me?"
"Clearly, I don't care about your consequences," she snapped, turning away from him, but his presence was like a weight anchoring her down.
"Don't you realize you don't want me anymore? Are you sure you really don't like me?" he pressed, stepping closer.
Instinctively, he leaned in to kiss her neck, seeking connection, but her body stiffened, unyielding. Confused, he pulled back. "You really make me scared. What is that?"
"It's just proof that I only want you for sex. I don't do serious relationships. Do you want to complicate things for my daughter?" Her voice was unemotional yet final.
"That's all you care about!" he moaned, wounded.
"At least I care about something other than you!" she shot back. "Maybe you're realizing what it feels like when someone walks away."
"About what?" he asked, frustration spilling over.
"I'm just being emotionless, I know. I don't like talking to you. We're done. I'm not your sexual interest anymore."
As she turned to leave, Wilfred grasped her arm, his grip tightening. Fear, anger, and sorrow danced in his eyes. "I feel guilty about all of this. I'm sorry."
"Your apologies don't mean much now," she said, pulling away gently.
"Hey, don't be like that! Just forgive me!" His voice cracked, desperation leaking through.
Fabienne walked away, feeling robbed of warmth, while Wilfred stood frozen, the heavy shadow of rejection settling over him. In a moment of anger, he kicked the table, sending it crashing over, the noise echoing in the stillness. It was a futile act, a betrayal of the very hope he had turned to ashes between them.
The cool night air wrapped around Judith and Walter as they strolled toward her house, the dim streetlight casting soft pools of light on their path. Judith's heart raced—not only from the thrill of being out with Walter, but also from the weight of Rafella's watchful eyes. The bodyguard had been silently observing the two, a mixture of concern and protectorate instinct knit into her brow.
"Ah, I know the reason why you came late," Rafella said as they entered the garden, her voice higher than usual, laced with a teasing but serious tone. "It's because you two were flirting. I think this is not even good."
Judith sighed, glancing sideways at Walter. "Please, Rafella, I know you want me to have a better life. This time Walter is different from anyone I've met."
Rafella crossed her arms, her demeanor earnest. "I just want to make sure you know what's right for you. You can't fall in love so easily. It's not like you to dive headfirst."
Judith felt the edge of frustration creep in. "You don't have to tell me what to do. Anyway, we're just going to take some fresh air in the garden."
Once they settled on a secluded bench beneath an old oak tree, the stars twinkled overhead like gossiping friends. Judith pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and the flick of her lighter whispered secrets into the cool night.
"I'm sorry if Rafella's been irritating," she said, the smoke curling about her lips. "She just worries too much."
Walter's gaze softened as he took in the sight of her. "It's okay. I get it. She just wants to protect you. It's nice to see how friendly you are with your bodyguard."
Judith chuckled softly, the tension easing from her shoulders. "Ever since my annulment, Rafella has been my rock. It's like she's my shadow, making sure I don't fall apart... or into any bad habits."
"A timeline exists for everything," he said, gazing far into the night. "Still, if you find love again, there's nothing wrong with that. Right?"
She inhaled deeply, contemplating his words. "True. Before I met you, I didn't even think I could ever feel this way again. I tried dating after my separation, but online interactions filled me with bitterness. Now, I've just focused on work and my daughters."
"Finding the right person can take time. I believe age is just a number when you're waiting for the right moment." Walter's voice was steady, filled with the conviction that resonated in Judith's heart.
Her breath hitched unexpectedly. "I think I'm in love with you too," she confessed, wallowing in the vulnerability of the moment. "I can't deny it. Since we started working together, I felt it. You made me feel special... like when you dedicated that song to me."
A flickering warmth spread between them, igniting a dawning realization. Walter turned toward her, sincerity in his eyes. "Me too, Judith. I've tried to fight it, but you're the one I want to be with."
In that sacred space, the world faded away, and they became absorbed in each other. Slowly, they leaned closer, drawn by an irresistible gravity until their lips met for the first time—a tender mingling of hope, desire, and shared stories yet to unfold.
Their kiss held the promise of new beginnings, echoing softly under the ancient branches overhead, while Rafella stood vigil, watching from a distance, her heart warmed by the sight of Judith finally embracing love again.
Jasmin lay cocooned in a bubble bath, her chin resting on the rim of the tub as she exchanged playful banter with Henrik. The warmth enveloped their bodies, but Jasmin had suddenly grown cold. A shiver coursed through her, and without thinking much about it, she slid out of the tub, water cascading down her skin like a waterfall.
"Where's the towel?" she muttered to herself, rummaging through the scattered toiletries adorning a nearby shelf. In her frosty hunt, she was blissfully unaware of the fluffy towel that lay innocently hidden in the cabinet right behind her—an obvious oversight but a prime comedic setup for the universe's mischievous play.
As she padded out of the bathroom, a rogue breeze tumbled through the hallway, making her teeth chatter and her resolve weaken. She crossed paths with Marvin, awkwardly shy who was mindlessly traipsing into the living room.
"AHHHH!" he yelped, nearly dropping the soda cans he'd been carrying, as he caught sight of Jasmin's bare back. The scars marring her shoulder blades told stories—a lifetime of clumsy antics and mishaps, not to mention an accidental scrape or two from her childhood escapades. Also, her figure—radiantly curvaceous in its own right—was a shock to him, despite all the biology lessons he'd had in school.
"Uh, excuse me," he stammered awkwardly, turning quickly to escape the scene, his heart racing faster than a jackrabbit on espresso.
In the next room over, Sidel raised an eyebrow at the commotion, her curiosity piqued. As Marvin barreled into the space like a gazelle on ice skates, a wild grin spread across her face. "What's wrong now...?" she asked, giggling, watching him bury his head in his hands.
"I just saw Janina, she was uh... nude!" Marvin sputtered, still attempting to erase the image from his mind like an overzealous artist with a paintbrush. "It's worse than a porn movie! I'm scarred for life!"
Sidel laughed, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. "You do realize it's impossible, right? Not a scene from your questionable film collection?"
"She's—there! How can that possibly be real?" Marvin's hands waved frantically as if trying to swat the confusion away.
"Marvin, chill! Maybe it was someone else!" Sidel rolled her eyes playfully. "Not everything needs to be dramatic. Did you forget that Janina is my mother's best friend? Oh wait, did I just drop that bombshell?"
"What?!" Marvin's face morphed into a mixture of shock and utter dismay. "You have got to be kidding me. I thought Janina was just some ghost girl haunting my dreams! But wait, she had a son, my stepbrother, and if Janina is associated with that ghost—"
"Or maybe she's just trying to find a towel," Sidel interrupted, biting back her laughter. "What are YOU doing, Marvin? Maybe if you had one of those fancy, not-so-awkward conversations, you wouldn't be so freaked out."
"I—uh, yeah, I'm going outside." Marvin turned on his heel, desperate to escape the oddly entertaining maze of family drama and unexpected revelations, his imagination running wild with thoughts that rivaled any soap opera plotline.
Sidel blinked; the sight was shocking enough to make her reconsider her daily dose of caffeine. Her mother was jiving away with the enthusiasm of a disco ball, shaking her hips like she was auditioning for "Dancing with the Stars." The kicker? She was entirely nude, blissfully oblivious to the world as she vigorously wiped a towel near her groin like it was a dance prop.
"Oh gosh, what are you doing here, Mother?!" Sidel squealed, her hands flying to cover her eyes. You'd think she just witnessed a horror movie.
"Shh! I'm Janina!" Jasmin hissed, continuing her routine without missing a beat.
"No, you're not, and I know you're my mother! This is just... absurd," Sidel stammered, cringing and turning her back while she fished a bed sheet from her nearby couch and tossed it over Jasmin's shoulders. "Get a grip, please!"
"Come here with me, Sidel!" Jasmin yanked her arm, pulling her into the adjoining room. With a click, she locked the door, eyes wide with urgency and perhaps a hint of madness.
"Don't you dare tell anyone I'm here! They'll never accept the truth that I'm Janina!" Jasmin declared, her wild hair flopping with every exaggerated hand gesture.
"Uh, Mother," Sidel tried to interject, "this isn't truth; this is a sitcom episode gone awry. Why didn't you just tell me you were out of the mental hospital?"
"Because I'm on a mission! I have to avenge all that Dirk did to Janina!" Jasmin announced, striking a pose that was part superhero, part confused chicken.
"Payback? Really? You think that swaying around like that is going to help?" Sidel rolled her eyes. "And can we please discuss why Uncle Walter isn't here for this little 'mission' of yours?"
"I told him... well, after a few cocktails, okay? It's hard to be serious while you're bathing in fruit punch," Jasmin admitted, her shoulders slumping.
"Seems to me like you're not serious at all!" Sidel threw her hands up, exasperated. "And now you won't even wear clothes to defend your friend?!"
"I can hear Janina's voice every night!" Jasmin insisted, her mood flipping back to the secretive tone. "She's with me, every step of the way. You just don't understand."
"Listen, Mom," Sidel sighed, trying her best to be the adult here. "You're sounding really whack right now. Meanwhile, I'm trying to ignore the fact that you're flapping like a confused duck in my kitchen."
"The point of no return is now, and you need to promise me something," Jasmin said, her serious mood returning. "Do not tell anyone!"
"Okay, fine," Sidel replied slowly, "under one condition: You need to come to my birthday party tomorrow. If you can win me over without the bed sheet routine, I'll think about keeping your secret."
"Ugh, does my appearance matter more to you than Janina?!" Jasmin countered dramatically.
"Mother, Janina would laugh at this ridiculous scene," Sidel quipped, crossing her arms.
With a melodramatic sigh, Jasmin replied, "Fine, I'll show up in something more respectable. Like my bed sheet!"
"Honestly, I'm so relieved you're answering my threats and not launching into a dance again," Sidel muttered, shaking her head. "But if that's the plan, remember to wear some shorts under it!"
As Jasmin exited, on the verge of feeling triumphant, Sidel couldn't help but smirk. "Tomorrow can't come soon enough for this birthday party," she thought, imagining the chaos that would undoubtedly ensue.
Jasmin lingered in the dim light of the apartment, the muffled sounds of the party drifting through the walls. She turned back toward the bathroom, where she intended to retrieve her phone from the tub where she had carelessly tossed it. The clamorous laughter and chatter of their friends felt distant, as if they belonged to another world—a world where she could fit in without hesitation.
As she walked, she resolved to wear Henrik's coat, now a talisman of comfort in her swirling sea of uncertainty. It seemed silly, really, to find solace in fabric, yet it was something tangible to hold on to as the shadows of her thoughts loomed larger. She slipped into the coat, and the fabric nestled around her shoulders, offering a sense of protection.
Henrik's room was quiet, an oasis free from the revelry. Everything was impeccably organized, a stark contrast to the chaos in her own mind. On the neatly polished table, her phone glowed like an uninvited intruder into the serenity. She picked it up but was drawn instead to Henrik's computer. Hours of awkwardness, yearning, and waiting chased away the impulse to escape.
Jasmin opened his files, heart pounding, working through the maze of a man's private life. She found a folder labeled "Henrik-medien." Something compelled her to delve deeper, fingers trembling slightly as she clicked on a video titled "Mein, Janina."
The playback began, and she instantly recognized the scene; a birthday surprise. It was Henrik and Janina, light spilling in from the windows, laughter echoing like music.
"Happy birthday!" Henrik exclaimed, his face glowing with excitement. Janina's bright eyes sparkled as she blew out the candles on a cake that seemed bursting with frosting and love.
"How sweet you are! I can't believe you made this wonderful surprise for me!" Janina exclaimed, beaming. Her voice felt like a warm hug, wrapping around Jasmin and suffocating her all at once.
"Just for you, my birthday girl!" Henrik replied, leaning in for another kiss that sent a thrill through Jasmin's chest—one fueled by longing and, ultimately, sadness.
As the video continued, Janina made a wish, eyes shining with sincerity. "For my best friend, Jasmin—I hope she gets out of prison and has a better job."
The words hung in the air like weighted stones. Jasmin's breath hitched. In those moments of laughter and warmth, Janina had offered a glimpse into a life she longed to reclaim.
The video played on, a montage of heartwarming exchanges, but all Jasmin could see was the gulf that lay between them. Henrik's voice, filled with concern for her future, pierced through the sweetness of the moment.
Jasmin shut the laptop with trembling hands, grief crashing over her like a wave. It seeped into her bones, clenching around her heart. Janina's laughter and joy echoed in her ears, but underneath lay the stark realization of her absence.
She pressed her back against the cool wall, feeling the weight of Henrik's coat around her—heavy, yet comforting. An aching loneliness filled the room, amplifying the distance she felt from both Janina and Henrik. She missed their friendship, the simplicity of shared dreams and laughter.
Henrik entered, and the laughter from the gathering resumed its intoxicating pull. He smiled, blissfully unaware of the storm that had just raged within Jasmin.
"Hey, you alright? The party's waiting!" he said, lighting up the room with his presence.
She forced a smile, nodding, even as the hollow ache remained heavy in her heart. "Yeah, I just got lost in thought."
Henrik stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, the warmth of his body warding off the chill of her realization. She leaned into him, refusing to let the tears spill just yet.
For now, she would gather her strength, but she couldn't escape the truth that lingered like a ghost in the night. Some connections are severed, and some dreams are left to wither in silence.