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Waking Up

Stuffy air is filling the nose, it feels like stinks. A slight glow of an orange night light and some minor noise from behind the wall is enough for Enma to open her eyes. As usual, feeling discomfort in her neck, her legs are lifting the blanket up and carelessly throwing it down at the wooden floor. Making a long and, from the sound of it, a desperate sigh she lazily sits at the edge of the bed. Trying to look around, she's having difficulty keeping her eyes wide open, them a narrow slits that really want to be shut. Lack of light makes any luxury room to look grim. There's no way she could call it a good morning, from the mix of a number of electric lights and moonlight she's woken up deep at night. With a huge effort, she's managing to stand up, making her way to a wide panoramic window. Wearing nothing but light-toned, cozy pajama her feet are getting cold. Her palm is touching a window surface, her dry skin is unlikely to leave any print on it, she's pursing her lips in tension, soon to roll them inside her mouth. Her tongue then moved to wet them up by slowly running around them. Next moment her hand at the cold glass is forming a first and making a powerful, but senseless punch against the bulletproof glass of her apartments. It sure hurts and makes her wake up faster than expected.

— Seal the windows, turn on the lights. The maids are free for today.

Enma's suppressed voice is giving orders to the smart house and local personnel. Cold steel panels are starting to roll from above with a very loud, thundering noise just as she finished saying to seal the windows. The system has recognized her further words and lights turn up at once, at first blinding her a little, as it was too bright. Looking down at her left hand, flexing her fingers slowly, she's looking at red stains caused by a punch. Having a wicked smile at her face, she just stands there, confused and uncertain.

Not quite walking straight, she's making her way into the bath, feeling like all of this cannot be real. Knowing this apartment mostly well, Loyola is looking down into the floor, sometimes seeing her bare feet. She almost turns around as if remembering something, but her head is empty and this move is all senseless and spontaneous as everything she does. The system is recognizing her as she reaches the bath, sure noise of the door rolling up still seems to be very loud as anything else during a deep night. Avoiding to look into the mirror, her eyes look down into the water sink as her pale hand is slowly reaching up for the tap, pushing for the coldest. Her palms collecting water feel like the burn, as water is ice cold. Diving her face into them, she's not very careful and wetting up her hair. Spending a few minutes doing that, she doesn't feel cold anymore, but soaking up her head did not help either. Her hand is blindly reaching for the towel as she's wiping her face dry and throwing it away for the maids to pick up later.

It was this moment when she looked at herself into the mirror. Looking into her own dim and forworn eyes is challenging by itself. Holding herself from punching the mirror, since she knows that unlike the window this may actually crack and cut her hand with the consequence of blood being everywhere. Closing her eyes she's just turning her head away, walking out into the corridor, being unsure if she even wants to walk back into her bedroom. Exhaling air for a long time, she hopes it would help to cope with stress, rolling her head upwards and staring into the forworn ceiling made of luxury materials. Remembering that she's still in a pajama and that her phone is still in the bedroom, she will still have to go there and take it.

Nervously stepping back into the bedroom, she hastily grabs her phone and nearly runs towards the wardrobe room, only to notice that is was not as the middle of a night, but early morning, as the sun is already setting up and city swarm is about to start moving. All the working bees are will soon get out from their holes to get to their workplaces, as Enma is trying to check if her phone was even charged enough. She's holding it, but not very firm, her hand is borderline shaking. Due to a pure lack, she's not ramming herself against the wall and successfully reaching the wardrobe room. Picking up the most utilitarian and simple set she could gather, pulling on the sunglasses, hoping that people won't recognize her.

Her eyes are starting to wet up as she's dressing up, she's barely suppressing herself to not actually be a whining bitch. Her eyes should be covered by the sunglasses, but she still believes that she can respect herself. It takes longer than usual to pull the boots on. It's still pretty warm inside and Loyola takes even more time to dress up and go out, she soon feels like she's getting sweaty. Rushing herself even more she breaks one of her long nails, it's a little painful so she's sucking on it just a little, muttering a few curse words beforehand. Сhecking for a phone in her pocket and pistol in the internal pocket of her coat, Loyola is staking up her hair and heading to exit. She doesn't feel like returning here ever again, mostly trying to run from herself than from this place. Deep inside she knows this, but she wants to believe that something like this will help.

Stepping into the private elevator, she turns away from the mirror, trying to think about where she will go and what she will do. Donna Loyola, where to go without a Sabre and loyal wing on you? The elite house she had an apartment in is surely having a massive park right beneath, not having anything in mind she just starts walking between the trees. The weather could not be worse, a whirlwind is bending the park tress as green leaves fall right beneath her boots one after another. Her coat is barely able to isolate her body, she stops, searching for her bag any hair bands. Finding a basic black one, she's tying up her hair into the firm horsetail and hiding it beneath the coat so the wind stops tearing her hair apart. Pulling up the hood to cover her head and hopefully feel cozier.

The wind is drying up her lips really fast, any exposed parts of the skin start feeling very cold, she's hiding her hands into the pockets as her dim eyes start searching for any cover. The signboards of restaurants and cafes do not look any attractive, she doesn't want to eat or drink. Maybe she should've stayed at home and drug herself up with Nox supplies that she still possesses, something stops her from going this very obvious road.

She just walks into the random cafe, she doesn't know why. Collapsing at the random seat, she pulls out her phone, trying to get distracted. She doesn't want to notice anything else, but she feels the waitress coming up with a wide and obviously fakes a smile, asking her what she would like to order. Only now realizing that she's sitting there in a coat, she would free herself from the sleeves and get it off her shoulders, dropping it as it is. It will end up terribly cramped, but she couldn't care less.

To her own surprise, her tone of voice manages to vibrate fairly normal, sounding a little dry, it was still bearable. For a moment she even starts worrying about how she looks without makeup with fucked up hair gathered and ponytail and sunglasses. Or maybe it's a relief, not too many will believe that this weird creature was in fact her.

— A cup of green tea, please.

Receiving the most uninspiring order she has had in a while, the waitress nods and says that she needs just one moment. Enny sighs in relief that the waitress has left her alone for a time, randomly tapping at the news and comms, hoping that something would hook her up and consume her at least for some time. Her hopes, of course, are false and just after a few moments, she hides her phone back into a pocket, not even feeling like writing something for now. Staring into a window she would just sit there with something in her chest burning. Soon waitress would deliver her order and watch the weird blond sitting there for much longer than it needs to empty a single middle-sized cup of tea.

Trying to get on the positive way of thinking, she's even trying to drum some melody, except for the one nail that she managed to break while dressing up of course. That soon makes her want to listen to actual music as she pushed headphones into her ears and tapping for it to start playing. The moment it seems becoming stable she breaks down once more, not able to cope with herself. What is wrong with me? Enma is asking herself, wiping up the tears that she couldn't hold this time with the paper napkins that are served and stocked at every table. Pushing them under sunglasses, she would not allow the teardrops to roll. Quickly paying up with the fingerprint, she leaves for exit in rush. Eagerly inhaling fresh air, breathing deep.

Soon calling a taxi to the nearest train station and ordering tickets into the random direction with her phone, Enma for a moment, comes back into a cafe asking for a shot of vodka. This time not caring much on how she looks or sounds, strong alcohol starts burning in her mouth and throat. A strong feeling that she needs to go somewhere away from here is taking her over again, blaming the walls for everything over herself. Loyola is walking out from the cafe, for good this time and impatiently waits for a taxi. Thought of calling to them and yelling is visiting her mind, but there's no way that would help to speed things up.

Objectively it took around five minutes as the car was nearby, taking a backseat, she hopes she won't need to talk to a driver to clarify the destination. Driver, gladly, is catching her wish and just looks up at his communicator for directions that she already wrote down in-app, a train station is about 30 minutes away, he wanted to tell, but he didn't. He soon steps on the gas and car starts rolling, Enma is grimly staring through the car window, observing streets and people passing, this flow is calming her down. Soon placing her forehead against the window. Now thinking how cowardly she really is, she cannot even end this.

I know your Don, and he wouldn't mind

Ride to the train station is not taking a lot of time by the feel of it. Almost falling asleep as she lazily observed people and cars on the stress, crafts in the sky. Trying to guess and imagine where and why they are rushing so fast. Usually, she's just like that, rushing for the business and consumed by it, wants she or not. Soon it will become easier as she plans to resign from representing Loyola's family so her mother can run things directly. Maybe it will become a little easier, but she will never be free, she will be forced to serve a grand design, created and coordinated from afar. Maybe it will make sense of visiting a mother, she must be doing great as Enma dealt with all of the annoying things that happened to the cross the interests of her family. Maybe her mother will be disappointed to hear it, there have been high hopes for Enma and her supposed talents. But she feels like she never met these expectations.

Maybe there was potential, even if there was potential, Enma just feels that her limits are reached and she has done everything she could for her family and for Malta. Many things turned out to be an outright failure and went to massive disappointment in people who she considered friends and trusted her back to. She would never question her own decisions, thinking that she performed her best in any given situation. But now she just feels like her days are gone and nothing can be done about it. This is strange, she is a relatively young woman, but she feels like life is over or at the very least that it's stuck for good.

Only now she realized that she's already outside the car and now walking by the train station, pulling out her communication to check what train she needs to take and which seat is hers, it surely stopped her from self-digging, at least for a time. Checking her pockets and taking some deep breaths of relatively fresh air, she pushes some people along the way. Her shoulders and the body, in general, are not very good at pushing people, but still, work pretty well if timed right and hit someone who does not expect it. Few of them would swear, only causing her to smile. Right now, she for sure looks like shit, and she barely expects someone to recognize who she actually is. But none of them will likely want to mess with her once they learn who are they are dealing with.

Checking up her pistol in her inner pocket once more after finally reaching her place. Checking if her communication started charging, noticing that the window is a little dusty and is not very pleasing to watch because of it. It almost looks like she will have to kill time with her communication or sleep. She really doesn't want to think about stuff. The main meltdown is maybe behind her, but troubling thoughts are not going anywhere. Lightly slapping her own cheek, she's trying to concentrate as everything is getting blurry for a moment and memories are reaching her out again. Then her look falls on the other passengers, how hard she wants to pull out the pistol and click a head or two. Seeing their silly brains flying out of their skulls and getting things dirty for some cleaning lady to take care of hours after. Blood everywhere might be even a bigger problem for them. Thinking about it makes her smile for a moment, then she would not believe that she can be that angry for no reason.

Eventually deciding that it's better to focus on the communicator, Loyola decided to figure out where that train is even heading by actually studying the nn-ticket. Pico Maria mountain? That's actually not good, the place belongs to Soriano, the ancient rival of Loyola. She might be finding some troupes in her ass there. Maybe get off the train halfway there? Or even right now? She wouldn't kill her that's for sure but detaining is certainly within the realm of possibilities. Loyola is now a rich family once more and will be able to pay up, but does she really need to take such risks? What for? Waking up in the bad mood is not a reason to do something stupid.

She could not be fucked getting off the train now that's for sure. She feels tired or been exhausted and that chair is surprisingly comfortable. The air is a little too cold for Enma's liking and she ordered a blanket through the local service console. As per usual it will take a few minutes before it arrives. Finally, she managed to calm down, and once she covered herself with a soft blanket her eyes would close as if on their own. She falls asleep, as she's heading down to her rival's territory. It's unlikely that someone will recognize her as is, but shall there be an ID check... oh, this is going to be interesting.

Enma would not sleep too deeply, from time to time hearing things around her and a clear distinct sound of train moving. Some snippets of conversation commoner's conversations turning out to be much more interesting than she would expect. Maybe they are all lucky to have such a simple life even if they don't insane amounts of money as she does. But that shade of thought would soon evaporate, at the end of the day they are all losers who would dream to be in her position.

Malta is not exactly a beautiful planet and even a simple rock known as Pico Maria and a small lake by the side is considered to be a tourist spot. But to even reach that, non-members of Soriano have to pass the guard at a considerable distance before the rock itself. Very sleepy, she would almost crawl out of the train as ending station was announced. Yawing and rubbing her eyes, quite hating the sunlight at the moment, Enma is trying to look around. The whole place was just sad, at least parts of it with public access. It looks like nothing around here had any investment, except for security.

Enma is still in doubt if it's worth risking and trying to pass through the guards to reach out to the lake and see the peak from a closer distance. Maybe she would not even consider this if this place wasn't so deadly boring. It looks like all the fun is beyond the fencing and guard posts. But whatever she decides, she needs to wake up properly first. Reaching out for the closest place to order some shitty coffee, there's a little hope that something this cheap would even help. Maybe if to drink more than one cup, try to compensate quality with quantity? Is this how it works? As she finished the second cup, it was like she's finally waking up. It took enough time to check the news and recent messages on her communicator, nothing changed much in the world, she would be surprised if it did, it was just a few hours.

Taking a deep breath and sighing heavily, she finally braves to approach the guards. She doesn't really count on her pistol, they are many with the assault weaponry, even if she gets super lucky, there's no chance of winning this firefight if it actually occurs. Silently pulling out her NN ID and ignoring the guard's greeting at first, answering a moment after with just a weak smile. One of the guards would scan her ID and then look closely at her face. His voice is deep and his tone is commanding, somewhat annoyed, and hateful.

— Loyola scum? What the fuсk you are doing here? --he pauses, it looks like he did expect everything but to see her here, he would laugh shortly, enjoying himself-- Don't tell me that you actually expected that we would let you in here? Turn around and piss off!

Enma would only roll her eyes, and then roll her head, not being stressed as she would expect. In fact, she is calmer than ever before in recent weeks. Looks like the confrontation is what she needed to make herself feel a lot better. Looking as arrogant and confident as ever, she enjoys her tone of voice as she starts speaking.

— I know your Don, and he wouldn't mind. Things have changed and we are not really competing anymore, but I suppose that his guard dogs wouldn't know. Do you think he will be happy to learn that his newfound friend was not even allowed to visit this place? You know, I'm afraid to imagine what's gonna happen to you, we are talking about millions of credits worth partnerships.

It almost worked, as the guard hesitated and went talking to his friends about the whole situation. It was so easy, and Enma is almost celebrating her victory, but the very expensive car just drives up to the post. And of course, this young punk Juan Soriano, cousin of Don, was the main passenger. Guards instantly approached his care, pointing at her and explaining something. Soon the care would open and even more armed men, now following Sorino, would approach her.

— Who are you trying to bullshіt here, you stupid bіtch?!

That would loud, Enma was just about to reply as he pushed her onto the ground, then after grabbing her hair and squatting next to her, he slowly pulled out his golden pistol and forced the barrel into her mouth. If he wanted to kill her he already would, so Enma wasn't really afraid for her life, but that's just awful. She only raises her hands up, trying to look as weak and innocent as possible.

— If you will cross me one more time or will try to bullshіt our men, I will actually fuсking kill you. Do you get it?

He pulls his golden pistol out of her mouth, showing the side of it that is shining under the sun. It would print into Enma's memory, that shіt's beautiful, even if belongs to such bustard.

— Do you see that? I will kill you with this. Now get the fuсk out of here, before I changed my mind.

Juan stands up, kicking her into the belly before getting back into his car as guards would just laugh. Enma would slowly start crawling away, the kick was painful and it cut out her breath for a time. Now she looks even more shitty. Once more pulling out her communicator after finding the bench, she's looking for the closest place to stay. One would be right behind her shoulder. It's strange that she didn't notice quite a large "Hotel" signboard as she walked here. Calling her people so they prepare to meet her at the neutral territory.

Oh, the revenge will be sweet. She thought to herself, as she was cleaning the dust off her clothes.