Character Lore | Nicole Hunter

My fingers dance on the keys from the piano in front of me. It’s a mindless motion, a routine my body is so used to doing that I hardly realize I’m doing it; it’s just a natural reflex after one of those dreams, like breathing.

Stupid dreams. Out of fucking nowhere to top it off.

The thing about nights like this is that I can’t focus. I can’t focus on work or planning, and it’s too late for me to go out to a bar to find someone to distract me.

With a sigh, I close my eyes, trying to drown my thoughts with the song I’m playing. I don’t even remember the name of it, but she used to play it often. It might be the first song I ever learned to play, but I’m not sure. It’s been too long.

Yet I’m still trapped.

The music starts entering a crescendo, and instead of completely taking over me, images flash behind my closed eyelids.

A body laying on the ground next to me in a pose that nobody should be able to hold comfortably for more than a second. A thick, red pool surrounds it, its metallic scent taking over the room. Blood. I didn’t know what it was back then, but now I do. He was dead before he hit the floor.

A scream.

I play harder. Faster. The song grows and grows, but it’s not loud enough. It never is.

A woman running in front of me. Shielding me with her thin body. Long, dark hair flowing behind her, tears streaming down her face, contorted in fear.

A gunshot.

I clench my jaw. A cold drop of sweat runs down my back and I force my eyes open, but it’s to no avail. The images are seared in my brain, and even as I stare at the black and white keys I’m furiously hitting, all I see is the barrel of a gun.

“Nic…” I hear a weak voice call out from somewhere nearby. I’ve heard it so many times that all it does is piss me off now.

Why does this still haunt me, why?

“Nic,” I hear it again.

My fingers twitch as if I’m the one about to pull a trigger. I’m sure I’m missing a note or two on the song, but I can’t stop, I need it to be louder. I need it to drown this fucking memory--

“Nicole.” A hand closes on my shoulder, and I jump up, slamming shut the piano cover and drowning the dimly lit room in a heavy silence.

I blink as the images fade, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

“Nic?” Alexa says with a frown on her face. She looks like she’d just rolled out of bed, with messy hair and a wrinkled shirt.

“Yes, that’s my name,” I say in a lighthearted tone that belies the utter mess I’d been up until now. “You don’t have to say it four times.”

Alexa doesn’t respond; she merely sighs, giving me a tight smile and choosing to ignore the sarcasm in my voice. She raises a hand towards me, and I realize she’s offering me a glass of wine, with another held in her other hand.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the glass and following her when she walks over to the couch and plops down with a groan.

She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask me if I’m fine, if I want to talk about it. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened and I doubt it’ll be the last; Alexa is used to it by now, she knows the drill. And for that, I’m grateful.

If I said I’m fine, she’d probably dismiss me with a mumbled “I didn’t ask” and another full glass of wine. Plus, it’d be a lie, and there’s really no point in patronizing Alexa at this point in our life.

So we drink.

A comfortable silence settles between us while we drink. It’s a great wine, obviously. I doubt Alexa would ever willingly drink anything less than that, nor would I. We didn’t become cons to live in mediocrity, that’d be stupid.

In a matter of minutes, my glass is empty. “Where did you hide the bottle?”

“Here.” She hands me the bottle. I notice she’d just refilled her own glass and let out a dry chuckle that’s cut short when I read the label on the bottle.

“Is this an original 2010 Screaming Eagle?” I raise an eyebrow at her as I put the bottle down and take another sip. “How the hell did you get your grubby little hands on this bottle?”

“Payment for a job,” she shrugs. “In fact, I got two of them.”

“So that’s why you’re willingly sharing this one with me,” I smirk. “I might stop by your kitchen before leaving later.”

“And I will murder you in your sleep,” she says, shooting me a glare from her seat. It doesn’t last long though, and we’re quickly sharing a laugh.

Silence falls again. It’s comforting, it’s late night and even this city quiets down at this time of the day; the only sounds we hear are the occasional cars passing on the streets below.

My glass gets empty again after a while. This is some good wine, I have to get my hands on a bottle of it soon. With what feels like the hundredth sigh I take tonight, I lean on my knees, staring at the bottom of my empty glass.

“Alexa, I…” the words die in my lips, much like they usually do when I’m trying to be, you know, honest.

“I know,” is all she says. And I know she does. She always does, it’s just one more reason as to why we stuck together through all these years. “I know, Nic.”

I don’t insist on the subject, and give her a tired smile. I’m not the best at showing emotion or gratitude, but then again neither is she, so this is nice. This is enough.

The nightmare that dragged me out of bed and into a stupor as I played the piano is now entirely forgotten. Or more like shoved to the side until the next time it decides to creep up on me again, and that’s just fine by me. But still…

It’s about time to pay a visit again.

“So, have you heard what’s rumored to be coming to town for an exhibition next month?” With a decision made, I push my own thoughts out of the way and change the subject to what we do best. It’s unlikely either one of us will go back to sleep tonight, so we might as well get something useful done.

“I’ve only heard hearsay, if you have anything more solid, I’m all ears.” Alexa turns to me with a known glint in her eyes, the sleep completely gone from them. “It’s about that time of the year, anyway.”

I didn’t even see her put her glasses on -- and the sneaky rat bastard already has her glass full again. Discussing work is fine and all, but I better fill my glass again before she empties this bottle by herself and hides the other from me.