“Then… wait, let me call Katerina. If she’s still nearby, she can take it and give it back to him when they see each other again.” She unlocked her phone and called her.
The moment she answered, Anna stilled. “Katerina, what happened?”
Ody looked at Anna, confused.
“He’s an asshole! The biggest jerk alive. I don’t wanna know him!” Katerina sobbed into the phone.
“What happened?”
“It’s been ten days and he already slept with someone else. Can you believe it? Like he couldn’t go without sex or something!”
Ody gestured to Anna, picking up on the shouting.
“Calm down. Where are you?”
“A little further down, by the stadium.”
“Okay. I’m coming,” Anna said quickly. She hung up, turning to Ody. “Baby, I have to go.”
“Wait, what happened?”
“She didn’t tell me everything, but they fought. They basically broke up, if you can even call it that. So I can’t give her the necklace. She’ll probably just throw it away.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” he asked, frowning.
“I’m going to Katerina now. Why don’t you give it back to him yourself?”
“Me?” His eyes widened.
“Yes, baby. I have to go, bye.” She blew him a kiss and hurried off.
Ody stayed there, staring at the silver necklace in his palm.
Chapter 2
He got into his car, hung the necklace from the rearview mirror, and drove to a jewelry store. “Good evening. How can I help you?” the saleswoman asked. He showed her the broken clasp and asked if it could be replaced without damaging the chain. She opened a few drawers and sat down. Using a small pair of pliers, she cut off the old clasp and attached a new one. Ody watched the process with his fingers interlocked in front of him. “Is this one okay?” she asked, showing him a clip-style clasp.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
She secured it tightly and handed it back to him. “All done. That’ll be three euros.”
“Could I have a small zip bag, please?”
She handed him a clear plastic one. He paid, thanked her, and went back to his car, placing the necklace on the passenger seat.
Mano rode his motorcycle home.
The place was bigger than most students could afford. The living room was large, with black sofas and walls painted in darkshades of gray. There was almost nothing else, no clutter, no personal touches.
The kitchen was modern, with black cabinets and silver appliances. He rarely cooked, but the counters were always spotless. Nothing out of place.
The bathroom followed the same dark aesthetic, with black tiles in the shower and sleek lighting fixtures. A large mirror with built-in lights dominated the wall above the sink.
His bedroom felt different. The double bed was neatly made, dark sheets blending into the walls, heavy gray curtains blocking out the light. An amplifier and two speakers stood in the corner, with two acoustic guitars resting against the wall beside them and an electric piano nearby.
Near the window, a small recording setup waited, microphones and headphones ready. His desk was the only place that broke the order, cluttered with handwritten notes and unfinished lyrics.
He tossed his keys onto the table and kicked off his shoes.That fucking bitch actually sent the photo.
