//------------------------------// // Behind Locked Doors // Story: A Story of Love (Among Others) // by TheMareWhoSaysNi //------------------------------// I haven't met him so often before that very day. It had to be said that I didn't spend much time in my room. Why, the reason was simple. Most of my days were busy with College and playing music. One can't expect to become the number one Equestrian Rock Star without a minimum of practice, after all. When I did't do any of those things, I was out in the city with my best pal, Pinkie Pie, and trust me, that's enough sports for one person. So, if I have met him before that day, it was very quickly, between two doors. But on that day, I'm not sure what happened exactly. All I know is that Pinkie and I were back from a stroll in downtown Canterlot where I've bought my fair share of old classics DVDs, a new pair of boots and candies. Well, the candies were mostly purchased by Pinkie, actually. That was, and is still today, a mystery how this girl hasn't turned obese yet with all the treats she eats weekly. I guess she's fortunate enough to have an excellent body condition and the neverending energy she produces all day long might be burning a good loads of the carbohydrates gulped down. Anyhow, don't be fooled by her pink hair like a ball of cotton candy, or big blue eyes and her wide smile. She's as close of an angel as I am of a fairy tale princess. Pinkie Pie is LOUD. She's eccentric, she's weird and she got the most irritating high-pitched voice I've ever heard. She's the best. Problem: with her, your maximum level of assured discretion is zero. Nada. Nothing. Ground-level. What is funny most of the time - although sometimes embarrassing - turned out to be very problematic when, as I saw him getting out of his room, I looked at him at the same time that he looked at me. Nothing extraordinary, you must be thinking, and it indeed be nothing much of a big deal if he hadn't smiled at me. It wasn't a friendly smile, the kind of smile you give to your neighbors almost casually, because it's well-mannered and that's all. No. The kind of smile a guy gives to a girl he thinks he's pretty. And that's revolutionary in itself because guys, they usually don't think I'm pretty. They think I'm a butch (see me facepalming). The worst... I don't know what I was thinking, but like the fool I still am, I smiled back at him, in an attempt to be well-mannered and neutral but since I was blushing so hard I looked like a blooming poppy, I guess he thought I was moved by his reaction. Which I was, but that, no one needed to know. I had a reputation to keep, you see. Rainbow Dash never blushes. Rainbow Dash is tough, cool and awesome, not a fragile little flower. It has to be said. Well. New problem: I wasn't alone in that corridor. Pinkie Pie, if you had forgotten, was still beside me. And the b*tch soaked everything in like a sponge. Remember what I said about her level of discretion? Ladies and gentleman, meet Pinkamena Diane Pie! "Ohhh, is that your neighbor?" "Yes, Pinkie", I replied sheepishly. "Well, he's hot but you don't blush like you're a glossy cherry lollipop usually!" And then, she started an imitation of the way I smiled that made me blush even more, because if that was really the expression on my face at that exact moment, I swear I might have looked like the sappiest sap dummy Canterlot has ever known. And this is totally NOT awesome. Laughing out loud, she snatched my keys off my hands and take an advantage of me being still stunned from shame to open the door of my room and getting in without even asking for my permission - or waiting for me. Needless to say, I hated myself right then, and I hated Pinkie Pie even more. My heart was pounding in my chest so loud I feared everybody at the hostel would hear it and I could feel my knees were weak, though I can't remember whether it was from rage or from embarrassment. Maybe both. I sighed, determined to forget everything about this unfortunate mishap, ready to join Pinkie Pie inside the room, which door has been left ajar, and to make her regret her little comment. With tickles. But something held me back. Like a presence, still lurking in the corridors. I turned around. He was here. Waiting for the elevator to arrive. And when he turned around as well, and looked at me again, he smiled at me. In the exact same way that he has smiled a little earlier. Gosh, I swear I felt my blood rushing to my already pounding heart. And I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. ==================================================***=============================================== My true meeting with him happened something like one month after that strange encounter. It was on a Friday night. It was on the Friday night when I'd been better off spraining my ankle. Or something like that. And yet, we'd been happy, for as long as it has lasted. But we're not here yet. So, Friday night, one month later. I was at my desk, doing my homeworks. I've always hated doing my homeworks, but if we didn't do that, we were forbidden to perform during the school's festivals and it was out of question for me. My plan to get rid of them as fast as possible was to do them on Friday night so I could have all the fun I wanted on weekends. Well, sometimes, in fact very often, I forgot about that plan and ended up doing them at the very last moment on Sunday evening, but whatever... On that precise Friday, I was doing things according to my plans. To make sure the chore would be more pleasant, I liked to do homeworks while listening to music. There was a band I was very fond of, back then, called Lumiere. They were playing punchy rock songs, with mysterious lyrics and I really enjoyed the leader's vocals, Fire Streak, who also happened to be quite a hottie. But that information, I kept to myself. Thus focused, I turn out to be as deaf as a post, so much that a bomb could be dropped off the streets, I probably would be shaken only once the deflegration has make explode the walls around me. And yet. So, that's naturally that I didn't hear the knocks on my door until there was a break between two songs. Did I stop and tried to see who it was? Nope! I kept on focusing in my literature essay, tapping the floor with my left foot at the same time. And maybe the story would have stopped there if I didn't reflect a little, and said to myself that maybe it was important. Sometimes, the manager of the youth hostel I lived in came to check out whether our rooms were clean, or to fix a socket, or something like that. What if it was him and I didn't open the door, and then he'd warn my father and I would get scolded over the phone? Hell no, I didn't want that. I stopped my music and waited. I also could have mistaken, thought it was intended for me when it, actually, was for the room next door. The walls were very thin, after all. But then, bang bang, someone really was knocking on my door. As I got off my chair and went towards the door, though, I hesitated. And the reason why was plain stupid, but hey, I was only nineteen, okay, living alone for the first time of my life, and I was sometimes very stupid, indeed. Not that I'm much smarter now, but, oh well. On the previous night, I had a nightmare. There was that ugly scary girl from the movie "The Exorcist" that suddenly appeared in front of me, with her scarred and green face. She opened her mouth and produced the sound of someone knocking on my door, very loud, three times. Just like the ones I could hear right then. Except those ones weren't loud but I couldn't help it. My mind associated it with the nightmare. And one thing I was damn afraid of was that girl from that movie. But, as the knocks persisted, I had to come back to Earth. These kind of things never happen in real life, whatever might be said on the cover of a DVD. This was obviously not Linda Blair behind that door. But, just in case, right before I opened it, I grabbed a small bottle of deodorant, so I could spray it in her eyes if it were her. It wasn't her, needless to say. My first reflex as I saw the smiling neighbor on my doorstep was to hide the spray behind my back. The smile I gave him was the one I give in circumstances where I'm really embarrassed, though for no good reason, and I don't want others to see it. I don't know, however, whether or not that smile works for real. "What is it for?" I asked him, toying with the deodorant behind my back. "Hi. I'm sorry... I'm probably a bother..." He seemed so hesitant, so different from the self-confident boy that I have seen one month ealier that it caught me off guard. A little less stressed, I replied that he didn't bother me at all, not mentioning that I was in fact in the middle of something important. The look on his face was so... desperate and embarrassed that I told myself I might sound too rude if I highlighted this detail. "Is there something wrong?" "Well..." he trailed off, before trying to regain a composure. "It's stupid, really. I wanted to cook dinner in the collective kitchen, and I slammed my door behind me, but I've forgotten to get my key. It was too late when I realized it..." "Oh", was my answer. Let's bring a little precision. The first thing the manager of our youth hostel told residents as they moved on was that the doors of the rooms had a special system to prevent thieves. Once out, if you close your door, it's automatically locked, so the number one rule is always to have your keys with you, even if that's just to make a little pee or get some fresh air on the terrace. "I was thinking", he went on after a few seconds of embarrassed silence. "Maybe you could show me that flash card wrapped in plastic with the rules and the number of the manager on it. Obviously, mine's in my room. I'm really sorry to bother you but you're the only person I know a little here." Poor guy, I thought, as my eyes drifted off and landed on his feet. He was dressed in a sort of tracksuit that somehow looked like pajamas, hair in a mess, with only his socks on, lost in that corridor full of strangers. Must be a real hardship for him. Yeah, just think about it. I was the only person he knew a bit. The only one. And our only encounter worthy of the name had been a quick exchange of smiles not so long ago. What a tragedy! Okay, maybe I was overreacting a little, but that wouldn't be the first time. I have taken pity on him and decided to yield to his requirement. But at the same time... Well, there was quite a dilema in front of me. I didn't know him that well, nothing told me he was worthy of trust, just because he was rather handsome and looked truly embarrassed. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe once inside my room, he would grab whatever item and knock me over with it to rape me savagely while I'd be unconscious. And even if not, maybe he would tell himself that I'm an easy girl, who's used to have guys she barely knows in her room, late at night. Hey, that kind of things can happen after all. Honestly, if in the end, I finally accepted to open my door for him it was only because he has looked at me with such puppy eyes that the girl buried inside me couldn't help but give in. Though, in fact, I'm strongly convinced that there is no one on Earth able to resist puppy eyes like that. Especially when it comes from such a tall guy with deep pools of emerald. "Did you try to find him in his lodge?" "I did, but it's too late. He went home for the weekend." "Alright, then." And I stepped aside to let him in, though, after reflection, I could as well have looked for the flash card and give it to him on my doorstep. "Thanks. I'll get even with you for that, I promise." "Uh uh", was my reply. Rooms in the hostel were all the same, only a block about ten meters square, with a single bed right above a wall fan, on one side of the room, and on the other side of the room a small desk, a chest of drawers which also could be used as a dining table, with lots of shelves above it, and a small closet near the entrance. Collective showers and a laundry room could be found right beside a kitchen, collective as well, which gave way to a terrace with a balcony. Thus my room wasn't any different. But, of course, every resident was in the right to decorate their place the way they liked, or to get whatever items they needed to live and study. Truth is, I hate cleaning up as much as I hated homeworks. And suddenly, I had to swallow hard because someone was in my intimacy and saw how dirty a pig I could be. On my desk, laid a stack of papers of all kind, and on the chest of drawers where I've put both my small flat screen television and old DVD player, there piled up DVDs which I couldn't put inside my already full drawers, glasses, guitar chords and about anything else I ever laid my hands on. Needless to say that I had not the slightest idea of where I had put that damn flash card. I had to find a diversion and quick, because, believe it or not, suddenly I was very much ashamed that such a clean and pretty boy would be examining the mess that was my room. Putting back the deodorant spray as discreetly as possible, I grabbed my phone, which was on my messy bed, and gave it to him. "Here... You might need that to call the manager. Go ahead, I'm going to make us some coffee at the kitchen so you can be alone." Which meant: find that flash card on your own if you want it so bad! And, not forgetting to get my own key, I vanished away as fast as I could, almost running towards the kitchen. As I was getting coffee ready in the collective kitchen, where another girl was finishing washing dishes, I couldn't help but imagine him in my room, looking through my stack of papers in the hope he would find the sacred flash card that would deliver him from hell. I pictured him perfectly staring at my "Double Indemnity" and "Cat People" posters, wondering what these can be, noticing that I forgot to turn my iPod off when I opened the door, thinking what a weird person this rainbow-haired girl could be, and by the way, was that color natural? That kind of stuff... Coffee was ready by the moment he joined me in the kitchen, with an annoyed expression on his face. Either he hasn't found the flash card among my mess, either what the manager told him wasn't good news. I wasn't sure which of the solution I prefered. He sat at the large Bakelite table and while I was pouring coffee in two cups, silent reigns as our master, which, obviously, made me even more uncomfortable than I already was. Though God only knew why I was in such a state. That was nothing special, after all. Maybe it was because I could feel he was staring at me and it was a lot of pressure for someone like me, who never really been alone with a guy before. "My name's Soarin, by the way", he finally said when I sat across the table too. "Rainbow Dash..." I hesitated, then asked. "So? What did the manager say?" He shrugged, suddenly moody. "He's celebrating his daughter's birthday and won't be back until tommorrow at ten." Oh, holy cow! This could only mean one thing. He was locked up outside. All night long. And he had no money to go to an hotel or anything. He didn't even have shoes on. And this could only mean one thing. I was his last hope. Talking about being alone with a boy, uh...