Remember me naked

Lyra

It had all started a few hours earlier. I had rushed out of Rafael's apartment, my shoes in hand, my heart in disarray, my eyes swollen with rage. My phone was still buzzing, but I couldn’t even read his messages anymore. There was nothing left to save. Neither us nor this lie he called love. I had walked for a long time, aimlessly, in the cold, until Cassandre called me. As if she knew. As if she was waiting for me. 

— I’m in town, she said. Come. I’ll take you for a drink. You need to clear your head, little sister. 

Little sister. She never said that. The word snapped in the air like a trap. I should have been wary. But I was too broken. Too alone. So I said yes. 

The bar felt unreal, like a scene from a film too bright. Cassandre welcomed me with a quick, almost sincere embrace. She wore a simple yet provocative black satin dress, and earrings that sparkled like blades. 

— You look gorgeous, she whispered. Even in ruins, you radiate something incredible. 

I managed a smile. One of those smiles you give when you just want to avoid crying. 

— I messed everything up, Cass… I caught him with someone else. At his place. In our bed. He lied to me for months. 

She opened her arms wide and ordered two shots of tequila. 

— To all the men who don’t deserve us. 

The first shot went down like a burn. The second, like a release. I talked to her. I told her everything, my heart in pieces: the meeting with Rafael, the promises, the future plans, the vertigo when I still loved him, and the nausea when I realized I was the only one who believed in it. 

Cassandre nodded, stroking my hand. 

— You’re too nice. Too pure. You trust, you forgive. You’re perfect for being trampled on, Lyra. 

— Is that what you think of me? I whispered. 

She laughed softly. 

— No. That’s what I think of men. But tonight, you forget all that. Tonight, you drink with me, you watch the rich lose themselves in their arrogance, and you become the person you were before you fell in love. Is that okay? 

I agreed. And I drank. 

Now, the empty glasses lined up like scars. The air is warmer, heavier. My dress clings to my skin. I no longer have the strength to pretend. 

— Drink, Lyra. It will do you good. 

I nod. Again. Always. My will has dissolved in alcohol. 

But something is wrong. It’s not just the drunkenness. It’s denser. Stickier. 

I feel myself slipping away without fighting. 

I get up, unsteady. 

— I’m going to the restroom… 

Cassandre kisses my temple. 

— Come back quickly, okay? 

As I search for the exit, Cassandre slips away to the back of the bar. Where the light no longer penetrates. Where the worst deals are struck. 

She finds the man. That monster oozing with unhealthy desire. 

— So, this is my sister. Pretty, isn’t she? she breathes in a voice devoid of emotion. 

He stares at her with the appetite of a predator. 

— One million euros. She’s a virgin. You won’t lose. 

Cassandre grits her teeth, but doesn’t back down. The image of her debts, the threats, her creditors knocking at her door all rush in. She has no solution left. Just this too sweet sister. Too clean. 

And she tells herself it’s only fair. That it’s just her turn. 

— You have the key, she says. She’s yours. In an hour, she won’t be able to stand. 

I’m looking for the restroom, but everything sways. The walls stretch like in a dirty dream. My legs buckle. 

I push the door, swaying on my unsteady heels, and collapse directly against a chest hard as armor. The man exudes an intoxicating scent, a mix of leather, warm spices, and precious wood that overwhelms my senses. I feel his firm fingers settle on my waist, his discreet breath brush my skin, and for a second, I completely lose track of time. 

I look up. 

He is not like the others. 

He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t ask me anything. He doesn’t touch me more than necessary. He looks at me like a puzzle to solve, an unforeseen variable in a too well-mastered equation. 

— You shouldn’t be here, he says in a deep voice, devoid of warmth. 

— I wanted… just… 

I don’t know anymore. I can’t think. My lips move without any sound escaping. I’m empty. And yet, I feel that this man has just seen in me what even Cassandre has never been able to read.