QUESTIONS & ANSWERS (A PROLOGUE)
Jul 27, 2022 0:04:21 GMT -5
Post by Admin on Jul 27, 2022 0:04:21 GMT -5
NYC ||| October 13, 2020
The dark-haired girl stood alone on the corner, feeling the autumn breeze pulling at her jacket. The last place she'd expected to be today was coming to some coffee shop she'd never heard of to meet an absolute stranger. Sure, the whole thing had been set up by Luke Fancher, orchestrated by another man named Brad Jackson who she understood used to be a professional wrestler – Luke had reached out to her because he knew she was fluent in Russian, had studied it right through college. The man she was meeting was a professional wrestler, one of Luke's newest clients. He called himself THE MONSTER MACHINE; Enigma was a towering monster who smeared soot on his face and spewed blood in the ring – she'd looked him up of course, having found only a few low-quality clips of matches. There were dozens of pictures, all of them with him staring blankly into the camera, looking fearsome and intimidating. The bell over the door jingled, laughter coming to her ears on the wind and then the smell of someone's cigarette as they lit up and she took that as her cue to move a little closer to the lights that ringed the coffeeshop's outdoor patio.
He was easy to spot by his bulk and his bald head, his back to the street and that tiny little wrought-iron railing that just made his muscled frame seem even more imposing. He seemed oblivious to her arrival but when she approached the booth, she realized why he'd chosen that spot. It was the only bench seat out here – the spindly little chairs on the patio didn't look as though they'd support him for long, if at all. Clearing her throat, she stepped up beside him. Even though he was sitting, she barely came up to his shoulder. He had earbuds in, didn't hear her and without thinking, she reached out and tapped his shoulder, startling him. He turned his head, and she was surprised to see his face was clean, his cheeks and chin dotted with stubble but there were no raccoon-black rings around his pale eyes. She could see they weren't colorless at all, but were a warm shade of brown and she realized he must wear contacts to the ring. Immediately she started wondering how well he could even see during his matches with something like that in his eyes. She found herself relaxing as she saw the corners of his mouth twitch towards a welcoming smile.
He reached up with thick fingers, tugging at the cord and the buds dangled from his hand. He stared at her. Time stood still, seemed to stutter and stop and then he blinked, and the spell was broken. "Hello," his voice came out soft, far gentler than she'd expected.
"Hi." Lauren-Jane Starke smiled warmly at him. "You must be Enigma."
He nodded, stunned into silence as she sat down across from him, scooting the chair a little closer to the table. She set her purse down on the chair beside her and then looked down at the tabletop. There was a half full mug of coffee and a few empty sugar packets next to it. She watched as he picked up an accordion folder from the seat next to him and set it on the table, pushing it towards her side. "My contract is…" he struggled for the right word, looking sheepish.
"Было бы легче мне сказать по-русски?"
"Would it be easier to say in Russian?" she asked, surprised when he shook his head.
"No. I… I need to practice." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and those earbuds were still sprouting from his fist like the petals of a mangled flower. He didn't seem to notice that any more than he did the stares he was getting from people passing by. "Pyotr… he is... was my partner. He negotiates these things. He always has done that, but I have looked at this one and I think there are – I think he is cheating me. This is a big opportunity and I have been given the choice to do solo work if I choose to, but he is telling me that would be a mistake and I do not believe the things he says. I think he has done this for years and I have been taken advantage of. Mr. Luke, he said you could help. Could look these over and make sure that I am not being bamboozled."
She rested her hand on top of the folder, nodding solemnly as she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear with her other hand. "I don't really want to step into the middle of a domestic dispute. Maybe you should have a lawyer look this over instead."
Enigma frowned, not really understanding her word choice. "Domestic..? We do not live together. Not anymore. Not since before Alberta and that reality show-" he broke off at the uncomfortable look on her face, realizing what she must be thinking. "No. We are not like that. I have never…" he blushed, stammering as he shook his head violently, "it was just partnership in the ring."
"Oh. I'm so sorry. I didn't-"
He rested his hand over hers and it was surprisingly warm, his touch gentle. "No, it is my mistake. You have done nothing wrong, so please. Do not say any sorries." Her hand was so soft, so tiny under his and he didn't want to stop touching her. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and the smile on her lips and the way it gleamed in her cocoa-brown eyes was making him feel things he'd never experienced before. "My English… it is no good. You can teach me better, yes?"
"I'd be delighted to," she replied, turning her hand over under his and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. There was something in him that drew her in, like a moth to a flame. He was so calm, so quiet and the way he looked at her was almost filled with a sort of child-like innocence that she actually found endearing.
"You are my hero, Miss Starke." He took her tiny hand in his and lifted it up to his lips, kissing the air above her knuckles – he didn't want to overstep or contaminate her in any way. He saw her cheeks grow pink as she averted her eyes, laughing off the compliment.
"It's no problem. Really. I'll take them home and look through everything. Maybe we can meet tomorrow and go over what's in them together? I'll show you what to look for, teach you what you need to know." Going into this meeting, she'd had the impression that he was simple, perhaps even a little slow. Now she was getting a sense of who he truly was, and she found herself wanting to get to know this strange gentle giant a little better.
He nodded, a warm smile breaking out on his face. "I can get a to-go cup. We could do it now?" He was over-eager, catching himself before he made a bigger blunder. "I am sorry. That was a bit too… forward? I did not mean to-"
"No, it's fine. Really. I'm not busy tonight. Why don't we do that? I'll go grab myself a latte and a takeout cup for you and we'll blow this popsicle stand. How does that sound?"
Enigma lapsed back into silence, nodding because he didn't trust himself to speak. He was overwhelmed, feeling so many things that he wasn't even sure how to process. She was so kind, so beautiful and being so sweet with him that he wasn't sure how to take it. Pyro would have told him to shut up, to stop babbling like an idiot and it was that voice in his head that kept him silent. He watched her through the window, saw the graceful way she carried herself and he knew without a doubt that this was love at first sight. He'd never felt this way before, hot and cold at the same time, as though his heart was going to explode from the joy that had that goofy smile still on his lips. Maybe this was the beginning of something wonderful.
