I miss L***. I miss her insanity, her irrationality, mostly her slyness. She loved Cody Wilson, she's consistently about Cody this, Cody that, like an annoying little girlfriend. And me, mostly stuck with inarticulate men of war in a naturally heated part of the world. When Cody Wilson shot her down a while ago, I didn't know what to say or do, I even secretly rejoiced at the opportunities to chasing my own tail in places like London and Paris - not entirely a pointless distraction in hindsight.
My hometown, Hong Kong, is at war - and I'm in Switzerland, dealing with her "legacy"... all of her stuff: the scented letters, the planner, the gifts, the wardrobe and whatever else she had in mind for her Someone Special - all under my care. Am I supposed to wear her clothes? I have my tactical gear, my Everyday Carry and she has all these fur coats, silk and velvet whatnots. I could wear them to greet Aramax on his bed as a joke but knowing how His Highness functions, he would simple ask me to strip and quit wasting his time, interestingly enough... Romance? Fantasy? Foreplay? Does any of that translate well in a result-oriented command language?
Either way, what kind of post-apocalyptic love story is this? How do I sell this script to anyone? Some Chinese/Japanese girl raised in captivity fell in love with some gun nut in, what, Texas or Arkansas, of all places? Then our Little Plastic Liberator crashed and burned because of, what, his Sugar Daddy thing? With a 16 year old? In... Texas, the United States of America? Here I am, dealing with men who routinely slap and choke little girls around for gratification, whose "porn consumption habits" and their consequence raise serious socio-economic concerns on a transnational level - basically men who are trained and licensed to cheat, lie, murder, or whatever to get what they deem as a Necessity. Cody Wilson, are you too young and vanilla in my book? I'd wanted to personally consult my Uncle Rex on the Economics of Sugar Babies In The Current Market (or if he cared for any 28 year old Baby). But, Cody Wilson does sound a bit like how BB would sound if he tries really hard to pass the bar exam, and BB doesn't even speak English as a first language.
For obvious reasons, BB is unwilling to give Aramax anymore credit than Aramax already has - Aramax always wins (it's like a motto), one way or another, legally and/or otherwise. Naturally, Aramax doesn't even pretend to give a damn about BB. For the love of my naïveté, I actually thought capturing Aramax would be easy - for a fact: he has a reptilian brain. But I have deliberately chosen to disregard the metaphoric size of his ego altogether, for ... what I call Constructive Conflict. Well, I did say, something along the lines of "is this person ritualistically armed to the teeth? Disarm. Undress. Offer comfort and warmth in solidarity and demand absolutely nothing in return." But then, Aramax is Aramax for a good reason. He has this inhuman bloodlust - and he is intelligent, resourceful, and brutal. "If you bite me, I will make sure you don't meow again for the rest of your days" - now that's what I call a threat. There goes my failure: I never bit Aramax. It was very tempting, but I can't - Not Yet.
After all that is said and done, I have, quite unfortunately, started either acting more and more like Aramax, or like how he would want me to act in front of him even in his absence. The latter is rather pointless - in his absence, Act Like He Does Not Even Exist - because he doesn't, to me, on paper. Funny how these things actually work, in reality. Should I be scared of him? Knowing he has already injured my neck - an accidental grip from his dominant hand... Knowing his knack for Disciplinary Actions... Among some other Curious Incidents that had happened... Should I be afraid? Well, me and my Inappropriate Fear Response - courtesy to a veteran oil trader I met when I was 16.
L***, come home. Let Mr Cody Wilson worry about Cody Wilson.
