He takes a shower and performs his morning rituals. They consist of little exercise routines and two cigarettes before he heads out. With a cigarette in his mouth he looks out the window. It's raining outside. It's a smooth and tranquil day, he thinks.
Outside. He sees people. Although he's not so secure himself, when he sees people in the streets, it fills him with a sense of superiority and security. Steve Johannes. That's the name people recognize him by, and it's caused him no problems so far.
He enters a coffe
shop. It's a small joint in a sprawling city of New York. New
York has always been bustling, filled with exotic and mysterious
qualities for a boy who grew up in the country. There's David
sitting at a table in a far corner. He always finds a secluded
place. His choice of location is ironic enough. A secluded place
the busiest section of the area. Steve understood him. Maybe he wanted a good vantage point. An unnoticed spot where he gets a good view of all the people passing by. But does he know his peculiarity makes him so conspicuous?
"Yo, David," Steve
greets him as he sits himself down.
"Steve," David looks nonchalant and self-absorbed as he greeted him.
Pretentious bastard, Steve thought. David threw a paper in front of him with a snap of his wrist. It was a regular A3 paper with a crease in the middle. Steve shivered inside, but he gave every effort to maintain a calm facade.
"Here's the blueprint. Take a look at it. We gotta be delicate and careful, ya hear? If we pull this out to the letter there's no way we're getting caught," said David.
The piece of paper
contained numbers, building names, and various time written in a
sharp and ridiculously well organized handwriting. The paper had
sprinkles of cigarette ashes on it. It looked like David's been
studying it for a while before Steve got here.
Maybe he wanted to make a point that he's a wise fuck. Here he has planned a murder and a plan that contained every step of it. He just studied it in plain sight! Steve wasn't vexed, though. He knew how people can be self-conscious, and how busy they were worrying about projecting their own little images. He read it through in relative comfort.
"David," said Steve
as he looked directly at David. He fixed his glasses on his nose
and continued, "this is a damned good plan you got here."
"I told you. I've been planning it for a month, man. Know everything about him. The places he goes to, the girls he likes to fuck now and then, his habits, the whole shebang. All we need is determination and the balls to follow it through."
"Let me make some revisions though. Hammers are better than knives in this scenario."
David cackled, throwing his head back, baring his throat. He then coughed hard a few times. He seemed to be in pain for that brief moment. He quickly recovered and remarked with welled up eyes from coughing and amusement.
"It's you who want this bastard dead. You choose the weapon to kill him with. It might as well be a crossbow. Iceman shit, ya know?"
Steve folded the paper hastily and put it deep in his pockets. He picked up his cell phone and got up to leave.
"David, you shitty
bastard. Choose a more secure place next time. There might be
people here who are more than willing to rat on us," said Steve
staring down at him with a side glance and visible irritation.
"Worked every time, though," David replied shrugging his
shoulders and turning his palms upward. He showed no facial
expression except for a flash of sarcasm.
"So... this Thursday?"
"I'll meet you at Jerry's at 8 a.m.?"
"You know my car, homie."
Steve walked out onto
the street. The air was stuffy, and people looked even stranger
and weirder. He patted his right pocket to feel the folded paper.
It was there. He put his earbuds into his ears and played a
smooth jazz he's been listening to nowadays.
"Shit," he uttered under his breath, and walked on in a daze.