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Last Kiss

Posted on September 5, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

They raced up the stairs even though one of them wasn’t in the best shape. Brian liked to remind anyone who expected him to move fast to get a good look at him first. It was a hot afternoon, like most hot Mumbai afternoons when the monsoon chose to take a break. He was wearing a dark suit, buttoned up. On the inside he was drenched in his own sweat and very aware of how he smelt. All the Axe in the world would not get him laid, which was a realization he had made his peace with. As they scaled the last couple of steps he mumbled loud enough for his companion to hear, “We should have a soundtrack for this.”

Virgil was the kind of good looking boy that his mother would have lusted after if she had survived childbirth. Her demise had spared him the difficulty of refusing at least one inappropriate woman. He was the exact opposite of Brian in every way so naturally he could have gone up three more flights of steps without even hinting at breaking a sweat. He nodded in agreement and asked, “What kind of soundtrack?”

“I don’t know. Eye Of The Tiger?”

“Don’t be such a cliché! I’ll make you climb these steps again.”

“What would you suggest then?”

“Welcome To The Black Parade?”

“What the hell is that?”

“Please tell me you’ve at least heard of My Chemical Romance.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve seen your chemical romance. What’s that got to do with anything.”

“Oh ha ha ha. You’re so funny. It’s a good thing you’re fat. People don’t like thin funny guys. They punch them in the balls for being thin and funny.”

“So this chemical romance is good?”

“I like that song.”

“I should check it out.”

“Look for Fall Out Boy also.”

“What are all these names?”

“Who knows…too much free time I guess.”

“Whatever happened to cool names like Dio, and Rush, and Def Leppard, and AC/DC and Poison…? Why does everything sound like a statement now?”

“Maybe it’s a standing out thing.”

“How the fuck are you supposed to tell the difference between 30 Seconds to Mars, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance?”

“From their music?”

“No! That doesn’t work. If I’m on iTunes or whatever and I want to download some music I can’t tell the difference can I? There are the names I recognize and hate. There are the guys I know and follow. That much is clear but if I want something new I’m fucked because there is no way to distinguish one from the other!”

“Okay, okay. Relax. Do you remember that actor, Jared Leto I think his name is? The one from Requiem For A Dream? He’s in 30 Seconds To Mars. And My Chemical Romance sounds like Queen crossed with Green Day…”

“And Fall Out Boy?”

“They just have a cool song.”

“Whatever. I miss Pearl Jam.”

“They’re still around.”

They were inside the building and the darker interiors immediately caused the temperature to drop five degrees. Brian didn’t look as wilted as he had on the street and Virgil stopped casting as many concerned glances in his direction. Brian shrugged, “I know. I just miss them.”

Virgil shook his head to refocus his attention and said, “Okay. Enough. Do we remember what we have to do?”

“I don’t know about us. I know what I have to do.”

“There’s no ‘I’ in ‘team work’.”

“Yeah but there is one I in ‘prison’, ‘jail’ and ‘deep shit’.”

Virgil didn’t smile, “You’re definitely funny.”

They rode the elevator in silence until something occurred to Brian and he said, “If we’re supposed to take the lift anyway, why the fuck would they make us climb all those stairs?”

“Is that what you should be thinking of now?”

“No.”

“So stop.”

A hot young thing in a mini skirt climbed aboard the elevator on the twelfth floor. She went right around Brian like a ship giving the Rock of Gibraltar a wide berth and when she leaned against a corner of the box she saw Virgil. Brian noticed the double take in the reflective door and then he watched with great distaste as she fidgeted with her hair and stuck out her chest. She climbed off on nineteen, looking extremely sorrowful at not having caught Virgil’s eye. When the doors had shut again Brian grunted, “That’s disgusting but I still wish it would happen for me, just once.”

Virgil’s slightly warped reflection frowned, “What are you talking about?”

“The chicks man. And how they become around you.”

Virgil sighed, “Everybody has their cross to bear. This is mine.”

“Yeah fuck off. You enjoy every minute of it.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

The elevator door opened on thirty-one, the top floor, and Brian nodded as he stepped out, “I most definitely would.”

They turned two lefts and a right, stood shoulder to shoulder facing 3119 and knocked on the door.

Ten seconds later, they heard shuffling feet beyond the door so Brian stepped aside until Virgil’s was the only face framed by the peephole. The door flew open and a beautiful woman smiled up at him, “Hey lover, is it Thursday already?”

He smiled and pulled her towards him. Then he reached down and pulled her leg up, slid his palm up her thigh and into the warm, welcoming confines he already knew intimately. Her other knee buckled as he leaned in for a kiss and at the very last instant, out of the corner of her eye she saw the much larger shape of Brian; or perhaps she smelt him. Either way it was too late.

Virgil’s lips closed on hers and the so-thin-it-was-invisible coating came off his mouth and transferred onto hers. The side that had been attached to him was harmless. She on the other hand, was experiencing the excruciating pain that preceded certain death. He smiled at her uncomprehending eyes and said, “You should call Mahesh. Tell him what happened. Tell him everything we did.”

She didn’t understand but with his guidance she turned and walked away and stumbled a couple of times before she found her cellphone. Her husband was number four on her speed dial. Virgil thought that was sweet because he had been number three. Her husband answered the phone with, “What is it Sheila? I’m busy.”

She tried really hard and after struggling with her tightening throat she managed, “I…I don’t understand but…”

Understanding coated her husband’s voice and floated across the airwaves to flood Sheila’s consciousness, “Oh I see. Goodbye Sheila.”

They were the last words she would ever hear. As she crumpled to the floor with the door, and her legs, wide open Sheila didn’t notice that the men at the door had disappeared.

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