Perfection

   His body was, in one word, perfect. He had being swimming since he was ten years old and his body had been modeled by every stroke of his arms and legs in the water. Besides, his father had inherited him with the genes of a tall figure and his mother graced him with blonde hair and green eyes. His name was Adam but he was never mocked because of his name. No biblical puns or funny names were said in school, nothing ever said a word about him in secret except what he already knew: in the eyes of every single person, he was perfect. And since he knew it from a very young age, he had developed a personality around that fact. He wasn’t cocky but he knew who he was and always-made sure people were aware of that.

 Adam, of course, had many love interests in school. He started dating at age fourteen and since then he managed to be, not only physically perfect, but also romantic and a smooth talker, enchanting anyone who would cross his path. The truth was he loved that kind of attention and also the fact that he could anyone into his world, into his arm or even his bed, if that was what he wanted. People wanted him and also wanted to be him. He even had groupies by the time he finished school and had more than enough messages in his yearbook and invitations to the prom. But then, he surprised them all by stating he was unable to attend. For many, most to be exact, it was the last time they saw Adam and they would never forget his perfection.

  He had only a couple of friends and they had insisted on him becoming a model. He did do it a couple of times for the money but wasn’t really interested in that world. He just wanted to swim and keep swimming because in the pool he became even more than Adam. In the swimming pool, facing other swimmers, he was always the best, most gracious and most threatening contestant. That was because every single person’s attention was always on him. His body was the focus point of every eye, every mobile device in the place and when he swam, people were frantic when cheering him on. They just loved him and always wanted him, perfection, to be up there, getting the first place he deserved because he was who he was.

 Adam’s parents had always been proud of their son and never actually tried to have another one. Weirdly enough, it was him who encouraged them to adopt a child when he had left home. He thought they had been great parents and told them they should spread their goodness all over the world. And so they did: they adopted James, a boy taken from a home where he had been beaten and blamed for everything. Adam served as a model for him and James became one more of his groupies. He would yell the loudest and cheer like there was no tomorrow. And Adam knew and he felt good, even better than ever because he was perfect in more than one-way.

 Was Adam full of himself? Yes, he was. But who wouldn’t be, being as perfect as he was. Any guy or girl would feel the luckiest if Adam would even talk to them for a second and so it happened when he went out with friends. Even in the darkness of the clubs, the heat and the noise, people would still move over for him to pass and for him to be first, always. It was funny to see how people treated him like a king or something even more celestial. He was almost a god and he knew it and liked it. He didn’t really took advantage of it, not even when he won a gold medal, he was always a perfect gentleman and his competitors praised him often, saying he was the definition of a good sportsman.

 But then, something changed. Adam liked challenges because he had always been able to overcome them but, this time, that wasn’t going to be possible. It wasn’t a competitor but one of his companions who made him stumble for the first time in his life. They had met only once and he had not even acknowledged Adam’s presence. He ignored him every day of the competition until the last day, when Adam won the final gold medal and the man’s friend won the bronze one. The tall blonde guy greeted his competitors and it was then when they first set eyes on each other. If they had been machines, the place would have exploded. That’s how he felt. He was so taken aback that, for the first time in his life, his expression was clueless.

 Adam went to the shower in his hotel room, and stayed there for several minutes, under very cold water. Somehow, cold water had always made him think straight, something he hadn’t been able to do for the last hour. That guy and his eyes had taken him by surprise and had moved everything that had been happening inside since he was a little boy. He decided to forget all about it just go visit his parents. But there, he noticed something inside of him had changed. He didn’t care for compliments anymore or at least not when they came form people he didn’t know. Some congratulated him for his wins in the swimming pool and girls smiled at him, but he couldn’t care less.

 That man had done something to him, that ugly little man. Adam knew he was perfect but had never bothered to compare himself to anyone, less of all in a derogatory way. But then, in his old room at night, he realized he saw that man as a little chubby asshole that had dared to confront him in his own arena. He clenched his fists with such strength; he felt his hands numb after a while. That week back home was wasted on thinking about the man that had struck his head with lighting and now wouldn’t let go. But he had more things to think about, like a career after swimming and training for the Olympics.

 Adam had decided to leave swimming competitions after the Olympics. His dream had always been winning a gold medal and register his name forever in the registry of sport’s history. He wanted to be the best and for everyone to know, now and forever, he was the best. The training was harsh and it was then when some more people realized how far from perfection Adam was. It happened first with a girl he went out in a date with. She was enthralled with the idea of meeting him but left after he told her she would be lucky to have him in any way. His eyes, his looks, they didn’t stop her from leaving the restaurant and everyone to look at him, perfect but alone and ashamed.

 It was the first time and it would happen more and more often but he decided not to ay any attention to all of it. After all, he had to train everyday for hours in order to qualify for his country into the world championships and then the Olympics. He spent almost eight months training every single day, his body hurting his psyche everyday but determined to achieve his goal. He beat every other competitor with ease and qualified for the world championships with ease. His performance then was almost perfect; blowing the minds of every single person that had ever seen such an event take place. The only failure was that in his last competition, he lost focus for a single second which put him in second place. He won the competition but he knew there was room for improvement.

 As he planned to take on modeling after leaving he swimming world, he decided to do various shoots before the Olympics. This way, he would be known both as model and as a world-class swimmer. Time passed and he became more and more focused, more and more serious about it all. He got to Olympics early and enjoyed the opening ceremony where his world began crumbling down again: in the group that had travelled with him, he could see the guy that so many years ago had won the bronze medal. What if his friend was near? What if he saw those eyes again, those eyes that seemed to look through souls and concrete alike?

 Again, he showered with cold water and began participation in the Olympic games. He won three gold medals on the same day and even shared the podium with the guy’s friend. He never saw him and his fears vanished. There was a huge party on a boat to celebrate all the medals won by the country and it was there he saw him again. His mind had clearly played with him, as he was nothing as he had imagined him for so much time. He was short and clearly not an athlete but his eyes were not only lethal but beautiful. Adam had liked men and women alike since he was a boy, he had never seen gender as a factor in a relationship but when he saw the guy, his heart skipped a beat.

 He was nervous all night. He got very drunk and kissed two different girls, promising them the world. But then disappeared, leaving the docked boat and walking to a bunch of crates, were he vomited profusely. For the first time in years, he had lost control over everything. His body was not perfect anymore and he felt horrible and weak and common. And then, he heard some footsteps. He turned his head and it was exactly the person he had thought about: the guy with thunder eyes. He felt weak again and fainted.

 The next day, he woke up in a hospital were his stomach had been cleaned and he had been treated for intoxication. The guy was not there but he felt those eyes on his head and started to scream. That day, Adam lost his mind. He wasn’t going to be a model anymore, or the sportsman of the year. His mind was gone and the only thing that was left was the memory of his fear to fail, that finally eaten away that shell called perfection.

By the gym

   Mario entered the gym when he was fifteen and never looked back. He trained day and night, before and after school and it went like that for years. Even when he got a job and more responsibilities, he still managed to head to the gym at least twice a day and even more time on the weekends. He was so dedicated to it that people of the gym had asked him several times if he would be their spokesperson or if he could replace trainers that were sick or late. And he did both that stuff, which made him mildly famous in the circuit of people who were obsessed with perfect bodies.

 For Mario, it had been the stability and discipline required which had been the hook to enter the gym. He had nothing of that at home, only two parents fighting for everything and largely ignoring him. It wasn’t very difficult to ask them for the money to join the gym, as they would always say yes just to make a point of how great they were as parents. When he was in his last year, Mario had already grown a couple of more inches and exercise had paid off with a body most girls wanted to date and most guys wanted to have. He was in the school’s soccer team and also in the swimming team. People thought he was obsessed with being the center of attention or that he did it because he was great. The truth was he just wanted to be out of the house as long as he could.

 He dated the most beautiful girl in school for prom and went on to model for various brands in order to help pay his college. His parents had split by then so the money had become a bit scarce. His modeling gigs were very needed in order to buy all that he needed in order to be successful as a business administrator. He wanted to put up his own gym and needed to understand every aspect of the business to be successful. In college, every girl was also attracted to him and they were all very forward about their intentions of dating him. But Mario was very focused and was only interested in finishing school as fast as he could to make his dreams come true.

 Sure enough, he got his degree at least a year earlier than usual. He started making enquiries about what was exactly needed to put up a gym. But he realized that his dream was still too far away as he needed a lot of money to open up his own place. The machines, the implements, the salaries of the trainers, the rent of the space… Everything was costly and Mario had barely had money to pay his tuition. Actually, he was still in debt with college. So the only reasonable thing to do was to look for a decent paying job and stay there for a while until he had the amount of money necessary to make his dreams come true.

 He continued to model whole working in an accounting company. All of his coworkers recognized him from several energy drinks campaigns or maybe even from his work as a swimsuit and underwear model. Again, it was the women who seem mostly interested. Some of them would stare for long periods of time during lunch and others would leave him notes and candy bars on his desk, usually with love letters about how beautiful he was. He always threw the candy and read the letters back home, sometimes laughing but usually thinking about his life. After all, he had never had a serious relationship and now that he was a bit older he seemed to be getting late to be with someone else.

 You see, Mario was still a virgin, even after graduating high school. He had been so focus on so many other things, that he never found the time. That sounds funny but it was what happened. He didn’t regret it but now, leaving on his own, he felt sometimes very much alone. He sometimes talked his each one of his parents but they would always talk and talk about their issues and never ask him about how he was doing or if he need everything. It was sad but he always called them on the first and second day of the month. It was something he scheduled in advance because he didn’t really cared about it. He had realized too that his love for his parents was not very high.

 One day, on those mornings he woke up at five AM to head for the gym. In the lobby, he accidentally pushed a guy that was delivering some of the goods sold at he gym’s cafeteria. The guy yelled at him, put back his cap as it had fallen on the floor with the push and moved past him towards the street. He had never seen someone so angry and he did think that the man could use some time at the gym. Then he realized he had checked the guy put, from his funny colored shoes to his kaki shorts, blue polo shirt and cap that had the logo of the company he worked for. Oddly enough, Mario couldn’t stop thinking about that encounter and his reaction for the next few hours, until work made him forget.

 Things were getting harder there as they were all being pushed into working more as the company had been bought by a bigger one and they had been advised they would be laying off people very soon. They all wanted to prove their worth by working like mules and Mario was no exception. Without that job, he wouldn’t be able to pay his bills and save a bit of money for his gym. He couldn’t afford that so he worked tirelessly for more hours and even on weekends from home. He had even cut off his hours in the gym but still went there every day as he was paid occasionally to coach someone who asked for it.

 One of those stressful days, he ran into the guy of the cap again. He was talking to the gym’s receptionist. Apparently he had already delivered his goods but the truck had to leave him there for a while, as they needed to get more energy drinks than usual. He removed his cap and revealed a head full of bright chestnut colored hair. It made his brown eyes look even bigger and his smile nicer. His smile? Mario realized he had been standing still for a while, staring at the man in a cap. He turned and faced Mario, walk up to him and said “Yes?”. Every single color in Mario’s face faded and he almost dropped his backpack to the ground. Then, the guy with the cap in his hand smiled and extended a hand. He said his name was Tim and that he was sorry for the way he reacted the other day.

 Mario was a bit relieved but not really nerves free. He was shaking a bit when he shook hands with Tim, even sweating a little. Tim asked him if he was an instructor but Mario only managed to shake his head in a negative way. Then a car horn was heard from the street: it was the truck that had come back for Tim. He said goodbye and left fast. The receptionist was looking at Mario so he headed for the locker room and changed there as he thought about what had just happened.

 By that afternoon, he forgot everything about Tim as the news of five people getting laid off was told to him as he entered the office. Luckily, he wasn’t one of them but the tension was starting to show. For some days now he had been growing dark circles around his eyes and he hadn’t been eating very well. The worst part was that they still threatened to fire even more people so there was no way to stop making efforts and trying not get canned. Besides that, he had received a letter from college where he was asked to pay even more than usual do to an error in their system. He called to complain but to no use. He had to pay or they would use the law to make him do it. Of course, the law was on their side.

 Worried about his future, he decided not to go to the gym that afternoon. It was the first time in a very long time. He just went home and had an early night. He didn’t want to think about anything and he didn’t care if people were calling him because of a modeling commitment or just to annoy him. He wasn’t in the mood to have any human contact. He just wanted a magical way to get his life on track, as it seemed it was heading to a cliff. He knew he couldn’t keep working like that unless he wanted a heart attack but he needed the job now more than ever.

 Bored and unable to sleep properly, he took his computer and tried to play a game or listen to some music but nothing helped his mood. He entered Facebook and checked out some old pictures and then realized he could look for the guy in the cap. The idea just appeared in his head and he just wrote Tim. Then he tried to remember his last name. It was in his shirt… Diaz. Yes, that was it. He wrote the whole thing and checked the results. Number seven was he, or so it seemed. The profile picture wasn’t him but the character of an old cartoon Mario had watched when younger. The profile said he worked for Nutrition Services, which was the name of the company that delivered every day to the gym. Mario breathed out and wrote him a message. A simple “Hello. I’m Mario”.

 He so nervous he jumped out of bed and started walking around. But then the sound was heard and they begun chatting. They spent several hours talking about everything Mario had wanted to talk for years. He didn’t care about the gym or work at that moment. He felt happy, at ease and not under pressure. Before they logged off, Mario asked Tim if they could have a coffee after work and Tim said yes. His smile while falling asleep was priceless, as it was what he needed, what he had always needed, to achieve long time his goals.

The best

   He had always being that person. You know, the kind of man that’s always on top of everything and whom everyone thinks about. Many want to be like him and others want to be with him. But few have ever get close enough to really know him as he has being intelligent enough to keep it all separated, in order to keep up the illusion.

 Yes, an illusion. Because Martin, the perfect man, had always had to act and had always had to do things to stay where he was. Martin wasn’t only an employee, he owned the company and ran it for the last five years, after his father had decide, rather surprisingly, to leave control of his beloved company to his son. This had been a matter of discussion amongst the high class of the city and the commerce guilds but eventually all doubts disappeared when they realized he was much more than what he looked like.

 He had gone to school in Europe and had a keen sense of fashion. He knew every single member of the richest families on both sides of the Atlantic and he had more than one affair with many of them, men or women. Many would have looked over him because of him being a bisexual man but another surprise; people found this a very interesting trait, complemented by his great skills handling money and people. Because his most alluring trait was the fact he could make anyone do anything he wanted. Sometimes, he didn’t even have to ask.

 Some people thought it was all about his physical appearance.  He was tall, tanned but not too much, well dressed, manly but soft features and ideal in every sense. Many magazines had asked him to do photo-shoots and he had accepted gladly to all the offerings. He would even do them for free if it helped the company promote some new article that they wanted to push on people or simply to get everyone to know who he was.

 People love to buy things to get to be like someone. Because people are obsessed to be closer to their idea of perfection, which is actually the idea of the media. And Martin was exactly that. Once he was in every magazine, more than one man was getting their hair cut in the way he had it and stores selling the clothes he liked had their sales rise for a whole month. Of course, his company owned many of those stores so it was all a very round business.

 His father eventually died and his mother went away to leave in France. This left him with free rein, more than ever, over his company and his image. From time to time, he would let paparazzi’s come close enough to get a few shots of him, maybe alone or maybe with a young beautiful model or someone people would hate him to be with. Because his goal was to make people want to be that model, be that person who had the unspeakable honor of going around town with him.

 So what people didn’t know very well about him was that he was very manipulative of everything he did. Most people would never calculate every single movement in their lives as he did but it was not as if he had an option. From a very young age, he had realized it was best to be the one with power and not the one being ruled. And if his family’s fortune was of any help, he wanted to be that guy everyone admires for every reason possible.

 It was him who started, not only doing benefits and helping those in need, but he actually went to the orphanages, hospitals and retirement homes to help in any way he could. Martin knew that he needed people to admire him because it benefited both him and them: if they were in love with him, the earning of his companies will rise but also the amount of money he was able to invest in any charity he would like. So it was great for everyone.

 Once his family left, he was more and more controlling of the company but no one ever said anything because it became one of the best companies in the world in less than three years. Before, it had been an old and respectable company but now it was on top of everything. Besides, working there was seeing as the best that could happen to anyone. The pay was great and employees enjoyed many benefits, all which had been established by Martin. He thought that if they were happy, they would work harder and the company would do even better.

 In time, he started absorbing minor business and it became one of the top companies in the country. It was so powerful, that their endorsement in any way was almost a warranty of success. Martin, however, had never cared for politics thinking those men and women always had underlying intentions. He thought of himself of a more honest person than them and decided to be clear, stating that his company would never serve anyone’s political efforts. He would rather shut it all down before bow to a politician.

This was rather hypocrite from him because Martin had never really being honest about him. He had created a character, a sort of persona, who acted his life. But the real Martin, the one that had existed back when he was only a kid, had been trapped inside his brain and was never allowed to be outside, to be in control. He sometimes had minor breakdowns, suffering from flashes of depression. Martin’s acting had earned him a severe headache problem but people knew and were not surprised: with everything he had on his plate, he was allowed to have a headache from time to time.

 When he reached the age of thirty five, people thought he was finally going to get a wife but that didn’t happen. He was still being photographed with many beautiful men and women but he knew them all too well to have anything more compromising with any of them. The models were always dull and the pretty faces always hid stupid minds. And Martin, handsome as he was, was not as stupid fool at all. He would have wanted to meet someone like him, someone that had fought his way to the top and wasn’t afraid to do or say anything. Because that was another thing he loved about his position: he could have any thought about any subject in current life and people would always support him or, at very least, not even care.

 And, to explain it further, he was a self made man. In spite of his money, he had decided to become much more than he was supposed to be. All his life he had heard it from the media, from his parents, from the society he had been born into. He had heard of perfection and of the rulers and the ones that are ruled. So he decided, at a very young age, to be the one on top. To beat every single other guy or girl in that race and be the one to beat them all. That's who he had always wanted to be. He started learning about everything and finally, he came back from Europe as a new man that would change the world.

 Of course, there were people that did not trust him be he never worried about any of them. As far as he was concerned, they were only jealous of the amount of power he had because, after all, that is what people really look for. When improving ourselves physically, we are only seeking to have power over other, to be better than the rest. Because being better than other means that there is a sense of superiority and that always entails powers. And Martin thought that those that were too mediocre to improve were the ones expending their days criticizing his life and way of doing business.

  Martin acquired a big condominium in the middle of the city, on top of one of the tallest residential buildings of town. From there, he could see his office tower and the lives of many people below. He felt even more powerful than ever but it was then, only then, when he realized there was no one beside him to share everything with. No family, no real friends, no lover. There was no one with whom he could share his visions of the future or his passions. It was only a huge space, filled with riches but with no soul at all.

 When feeling like that, he would disguise himself and walk around the people on the street and he realized what he lacked was love. Not only romantic love but also every single kind there is in the world. Some people that were far from being like him laughed in the street and appeared to have the best time possible. They loved themselves far more than he would ever love himself, because he had no idea who he was anymore. He had renounced to his true self long ago and now that boy was lost forever.

 After a few outings, he decided to cut off all thought of that forever, focusing on the future of his company and how to enjoy life with all the power and money he had. Because, after all, he had made a decision all those years ago: he had decided to be perfect in every sense, to go to the gym and get a perfect body, to handle money correctly to have the most refined luxury items and clothes and teaching himself to be the business man his father had never been.

 He was going to be the best. And, according to him, he already was.

Hate

   They all hate him. I know I do. He acts all perfect and many people around here think he is just that: perfect. I bet he hide so many thinks beneath those stupid smiles and acts of kindness. No human person is like that; we all act of cowardice or shame but never just because we are good. We just want to be it so bad we go to great lengths to transform in those idiotic beings that just spit positivity.

 He’s a fake. I just know it. He gave everyone a present on his floor last Christmas and even organized a party for them, dressed as Santa Claus. And people danced around him like dogs under the hypnosis of a really good trainer. It was disgusting how they looked, as if they were in the presence of God himself or at least one of the many saints. And he even acts the part, always helping and doing and being all over the place.

 Was he fat as a kid? Or did his parents maybe hate him? No, of course not. That wouldn’t have happened to him. People said that he would speak of his childhood often, remembering how it was all easier. Ha! Easier than now, when almost every single idiot in this office building treats him like his a deity? I doubt it. He must have been one of those insufferable jocks, full of himself, with everyone cheering around just because he looked like some guy from a magazine.

 I always try to get away from people like that. All they do is treat people like the stupidest of pets, making them do, as he wants. He doesn’t even have to ask, which is even more revolting. They just do it, as if getting the reward of his smile was more than enough to feed their children or pay their bills. I’ve heard them, women and children worshipping him in the elevator, talking about how kind and sensitive he is.

 People will believe anything if they want to, even if it kills them. They’re not smart enough to feel, to sense. I laugh in my head overtime they organized that annoying secret valentines game. They always try to pull me into that and, once, I almost agreed to do it. At the end of the day, I’m not much more smart than they are and I do work here with them. But then they spoke of how that stupid fuck was organizing it all. So I just said no and left for my house.

 Days after that I ran into him. He smiled to me! As I was a friend or one of his dogs. I just got out of the elevator and went to the bathroom, as I had no need to stand more than a minute in the presence of that cheeky smug smile, expecting me and anyone else to do the same. I want him to know that we’re not all enthralled by his physical appearance and his effort to be liked by everyone.

 He wants us all to like him? Then he should behave like any other of us, just work and shut the fuck up. We don’t wanna know about his colorful life full of beauty, and style and drama that’s only dramatic to him. Of course, he has been employee of the month so many times, no one even asks anymore about the picture they take when you win. They even said he asked fro the pictures to be removed, as he didn’t want to be disliked.

 Funny he said that, if he did say that is. Because I don’t dislike him. I don’t. Don’t ever get me wrong there. I hate him. I fully and truly hate his guts. I hate his smile, I hate those pictures of everyone’s holidays they put up once on the company’s Facebook page. Of course he was on a beach somewhere half around the world, tanned and his body ridiculously fit and lean. It was obvious that he was perfect in every fucking sense. And I hate that.

You may calm me resented or that I envy him. Maybe, I would not know if that is so. What I do know is that a fucking hate that guy and everything he stands for. He makes people feel less than they are and then he just greets them and think that will make everybody feel better because, like the Pope, he stretches the hand of all those less fortunate. And those poor devils do think that they are his friends just because he smiles at them or because they hear one of his stupid little stories.

 I’ve gone to the doctor, the shrink that is. Believe me, I’m not happy thinking about that guy every day in the office. So I went to see one of those doctors and he says I’m obsessive and I’m looking to deep into it. He tells me I should just leave it at that and live for myself. But I can, I have explained to him. How can I have time for my own when I have to go to that damn floor everyday and hear him make one of his lectures to people.

 That doctor doesn’t know I feel ill, sick to my stomach every time I hear that man’s voice. Many people say you can’t really hate, that it takes something really strong to feel that for someone. I tell you, I didn’t take a lot for me to feel what I feel. And it is hate, and I hate that feeling too. I have a life, not much but I do have it and I don’t want to spend it thinking of some male model that parades around.

 He hypnotized me once, that doctor. I thought the idea was stupid but I let him do it, as I wanted peace for once on my mind. He said, after I woke up or however you name it, that I have dangerous tendencies towards criminal behavior and that I have deep problems rooted in my brain. Fuck, what an idiot that doctor is. I could have told him that myself, awake and for a cheaper price. Of course, I never went back to see him. I don’t need people charging me for telling me the obvious.

 I want to kill him. That’s what the doc meant. And I have thought of it many times, carefully. I do it before I go to sleep or when I daydream at work. Some days ago he came to my corner and asked me for some papers. I wanted to throw up, right there. Sick isn’t it? Then, as I reached for the papers without saying a single word, I imagined punching him to his death. How beautiful would he look like with blood all over his face?

 This is not good. I know killing is a bad thing, that’s obvious. But what can I do? Every single time I see him, that strange rush invades my whole body and makes me feel like I could really do it. You know? I’ve thought several ways to do it, all of them fun to me. Of course I don’t share this with anyone. People would overreact and say I’m mass murderer or some shit like that. And the truth is I just want HIM dead. I know if I do it, I wouldn’t do it again. No need to.

 The day after he asked me for those papers, I decided I would follow him to his house. Why? Easy: before he dies I want him to tell me what lies beneath that entire perfect surface. Because, as you know, I don’t believe for a second all of those nice little details about his life and how he loves everyone and so on. I know there must be something really rotten below all that beauty. There always is. No one is perfect in this world and, the better the cover, the nastier the secrets.

 So I followed him down to the basement, because he’s one of few that comes work by car. And then it struck me: it doesn’t matter. His life, what he has or hasn’t done. I don’t give a fuck about that. What I really care about is the image he gives to the world. He might fuck children, kill whores or spread STD’s. I don’t care. I care about that fake smile he gives to everyone he meets. I want that finished.

 Yesterday, I almost went for it. I went to the bathroom to pee and he went in to and went for one of the stalls. We were alone. He was whistling. The rush came back and I knew that was the perfect moment. I could strangle him myself with my hands, seeing his soul leaving his body and his smile finally disappearing from his face. But when I decided to do it, another man came in and I just went out, breathing heavily as if I had been running.

 Then comes today. The guy announce to everyone, as if he was the president, that he will be leaving us to pursue other endeavors. I almost went crazy when I heard about it. But then, I relaxed. My life could get back to normal and I could make all these thoughts go away. Him leaving would be my cure. And the only person that would ever know about this all would be me because here, inside my head, there’s only me. And I’m thankful for that.