I Am The Game's Villain

The passage of time since that fateful day felt like a haze, elusive and hard to grasp in my muddled mind. Struggling to recall, I found it challenging to pinpoint the exact duration. I should have remembered, especially when it concerned the day of my soon-to-be girlfriend's passing. Any woman, rightfully so, would have condemned my forgetfulness over something so profound.

A breath escaped my lips, dissipating into the chilly air and triggering an ephemeral wisp of smoke. My aimless wanderings had led me through the captivating streets of Paris, a city I had once visited with my beloved. Paris in winter might seem an unconventional choice, but it held a plan I had concocted, a plan to confess my feelings atop the Eiffel Tower – a cliché yet heartfelt gesture to convey my love.

Oh.

I estimated it had been roughly a week since her departure from this world. In an ideal world, I should have returned to my home in London. However, I remained ensnared in the city of love. In truth, there was no one left to worry about my absence. She was the only family I had left, and now, she was no more.

What a pitiable existence I led.

The accident that claimed my parents and younger sister when I was just seventeen had transformed my life into a nightmare. Left with their life insurance, I existed, but every day felt like a descent into the abyss of loneliness. I had no one to care for, no one to fill the void.

I, who had once exuded cheerfulness, had retreated into the shadows of introversion after my family's demise. And I had grown to cherish that solitude, finding solace in being alone. I could now empathize with the introvert I'd encountered earlier; the loneliness we shared was a silent bond.

My journey continued, taking me through four years of specialized IT studies at a school. Now, at 22, I should have been content with my introverted existence. But life had a way of surprising us. She hadn't allowed me to retreat further into my shell. The woman who had occupied the deepest recesses of my heart had reached out to me when we were paired up for a project. A chance encounter had led me to her, perhaps the most breathtaking girl I'd ever met. My initial timidity gave way to her persistent efforts, and over the years, I got to know her, understand her, and eventually, I fell in love with her.

But now, it was all over.

Seeking solace, I stepped into a nearby bakery and joined the queue. When it was my turn, I handed over the euros – the currency of Europe – in exchange for two baguettes. The baker, a professional yet friendly woman, handed them to me with a smile. Gratitude flowed from my lips, only to be met with her cheerful response.

"My pleasure."

The words carried a trace of a French accent, endearing and charming. A fleeting thought teased me – should I attempt to strike up a conversation? A swift shake of my head dispelled the notion. I had a meeting to attend with a friend, and besides, I couldn't forget that I was, at my core, an introvert.

...Except, right now, I seemed to have momentarily forgotten that fact.

I didn't consider myself particularly striking in appearance, so the notion of capturing the interest of a French beauty felt like a far-off possibility. The fact that she had fallen for me was a marvel that continued to baffle me. Yes, I was aware of her feelings before her untimely demise. Her brother, my friend, had confided in me about her affection.

"She's into you, bro!"

When those words left her brother's lips, my elation had soared to unprecedented heights. I can still recall staring at the sky, my expression an intricate dance of happiness and disbelief. From that moment, my mind conjured up fantasies – romantic dates, the magic of our first night together, the prospect of raising children.

Lost in my memories, I savored a bite of the baguette.

"Delicious."

True to its reputation, the baguettes in France were nothing short of perfection. Passersby on the same sidewalk offered me amused smiles as they witnessed me devouring the bread with evident hunger. The warmth of the baguette had now given way to a chill, but my appetite prevailed.

I glanced at my watch, exhaling in response to the time displayed.

[8:47]

"It's time to go."

With determination, I executed a u-turn, setting my course for a rather unique destination. A friend had invited me there, and I had agreed during a conversation the day before.

After about ten minutes of walking, I spotted my friend. Seated on a bench, his gaze seemed fixed on nothing in particular. His usually rigid posture had transformed into a slump. It was clear that his current state could be easily bested, and an urge to kick his back surfaced briefly before I took a seat beside him.

Silence enveloped us.

Minutes passed like a gentle breeze, carrying with it unspoken thoughts and emotions.

Finally, his voice broke the stillness.

"Nyr."

"Yes."

"How have you been?"

His voice held a hint of hoarseness. Traces of dried tears adorned his cheeks, a detail I chose to acknowledge internally.

"Good. And you?"

"Good, huh? Ahaha."

"Emric?"

Confusion tinged my voice as Emric chuckled, a dry and bitter sound.

"You're doing well? It's only been a week since she died. Ephera, my sister, your girlfriend!"

His tone intensified as he concluded his remark.

"Not my girlfriend."

I responded calmly, asserting the truth that she was not my girlfriend, as I had never had the chance to confess my feelings.

"I hadn't confessed to her, so she isn't my girlfriend."

I explained, then took another bite of the baguette.

"Oh. Do you want?"

Offering one of the baguettes to Emric, I noticed him tremble. It was evident that he was restraining himself from lashing out. I withdrew my hand, gauging the situation.

"What's wrong, Nyr? Have you even mourned her? I can't recognize you."

Emric articulated what had been on his mind since he'd seen me.

I turned my gaze away from him.

His face...

He bore a striking resemblance to his sister, Ephera. The anger within me surged, compelling me to avert my gaze.

"What do you think?"

I responded with a question, a choice that did little to appease Emric. With a gesture of frustration, he rose from the bench.

"Enough."

His departure caught me slightly off guard, as he walked away without delivering the punch I half-expected after my indifferent demeanor.

Setting the bag of baguettes on the bench, I stood up.

"Emric."

I moved towards him.

"Get lost, Nyr."

His words, laden with anger, were delivered without him even turning around.

Ignoring his directive, I quickened my pace, drawing nearer to him.

"You know, Ephera – she wasn't bad."

Emric halted, fists clenched at his sides.

"Lucky me, I had her. Still..."

A smirk materialized on my lips.

"It's a pity I never got to spend even one night with her—"

-Bam!-

A powerful punch struck my cheek, propelling me backwards. My head connected with the bench before I slid to the ground.

"Ah!"

Warm blood trickled from my forehead, but I disregarded it as I gazed at Emric, a pained smile on my lips.

"Nyr, you're repulsive. I befriended someone like you, and worse, I let my sister get close to you..."

Emric shook his head, departing with each step ringing with disillusionment.

"Ah..."

Sighing, I regained my footing, brushing off my clothes. Retrieving the bag of baguettes, I exhaled.

"Hm?"

Noticing the attention I had inadvertently attracted, I met curious gazes from a few onlookers. My gaze settled on a little girl, clutching her mother's leg as she stared at me.

"Do you want?"

I extended the bag of baguettes to her.

"Non, merci."

Her mother replied politely in French before leading her daughter away.

"It was a joke. The baguettes are for me."

Hugging the bag close, I headed home, my injury in need of attention.