Chapter 1: The Slap

I couldn't handle the urge to look at the figure of a beautiful woman sitting on the table right across ours—I couldn't stop staring at the form of a lovely woman seated across from our table. Her smile fills the dimly lit pub when the random-colored disco light turns to their table.

My focus remained locked on her as I puzzled over her identity, my brow furrowing. A curious sense of familiarity washed over me, but I couldn't link it to prior experiences or connections.

I carefully examined her, straining into my memories to recall her name or where we could have met previously. It was as if I were sifting through the scattered puzzle pieces of my past, longing to piece together the forgotten connection with the enigmatic figure before me.

It was a great night out for the guys, hanging out on Friday night with rum and beer in hand while flirting with random girls in our arms.
The gentle sound of DJ music made me dizzy and sleepy.
Occasionally, I looked at the woman who caught my eye while drinking a few glasses of rum to distract myself.

"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! Aziel, man, you already have a girl in your arms, yet you're still stealing glances at another one.

"Hey, man, you've been eyeing that other table for a while. Anyone interesting over there?" Carlo, my best buddy, inquired, his face smug.

"I'm not entirely sure. Maybe I confused that woman with someone differently," I responded, drawing the lovely lady beside me nearer, fritters along her impertinence as I leaned in for a kiss. Yet, my lips froze midway as the memory of the woman with the familiar smile at the adjacent table suddenly returned.

"Sh**! I cannot do this right now," I murmured, pushing the lady away.

"What was wrong with you? Are you gay? Eew!" she screamed in vexation before turning towards the exit, her body language emitting an unmistakable air of misprision and disappointment.

Her response caught me off guard, leaving me feeling somewhat bewildered. My thoughts were in disarray, and a numbness settled over my face. I observed in silence as she distanced herself, clearly seething with discontent.

"Whoa! Hahaha! Aziel, what's wrong with you? I thought she was your type. We've been through a lot to get you that girl! Damn! Such a waste of effort!" Eric needled.

I sighed and reclined without dignifying his taunt with a reply. Exhaustion and stress from the long workday had taken their toll.

"Right! You were eyeing the girl across the table earlier. Who's she?" Carlo inquired.

"Just be quiet, man. Focus on your own business," I retorted, closing my eyes as I sipped my glass of rum.

"Are you already hammered?" he questioned.

"Yeah! So what?" I shot back bluntly.

"Ready to head back? Need a ride to the hotel?" he asked with concern.

"Enough, man!" I replied firmly.

"Fine! If you miss your flight tomorrow, it's on you," he countered.

I glanced at her again, looking intently, trying to remember who she was. Her gaze was drawn to me unexpectedly, and she appeared perplexed. She suddenly reverted her glance, pretending not to see me.

"She recognized me. I was sure of it!" I muttered, unaware that my voice had carried further than intended.

"What now? Do you remember now who she is?" Carlo inquired.

"Is it the girl in a white dress, blonde, and well-endowed?" Eric probed.

"No!" I vehemently objected.

"Let me guess. The girl in the blue blouse, neatly tied ponytail, brown hair, a pair of eyeglasses, and fair skin? Isn't that Laia Dominic? Our grade school classmate who delivered a resounding smack to your—"

"Shut up!" I hissed, fixing him with a steely glare as I thrust a glass of rum into Carlo's hand to silence him.

The others erupted in laughter, taunting, "What? Did she slap your behind?"

"Damn it, John!" I yelled.

"I love you too, buddy! Hahaha!" he retorted, laughing like a maniac.

Their laughter grated on my nerves, and I rose in frustration. If I couldn't calm down, I might end up punching John.

"Where are you going, dude?" Carlo inquired.

"The restroom! What, are you coming with me?" I shot back.

"Screw you, man!" he retorted, his tone tinged with irritation.

I could not help but chuckle wryly and crookedly—a blend of sarcasm and tone-mockery—ahead. I walked down from the group and progressed to the restroom. The cold water from the valve hit my face with a bracing jolt, bringing me out of the stressful position. I cupped my hands, allowing the water to spot across my face, each drop an attempt to wash down the remaining anxiety and restore my calm.

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[Flash back]

I can still remember the humiliation I had when we were still young.

Laia Dominic was said to have garnered favor from some influential figures within the academy. Yet, the true identity of her parents remained shrouded in secrecy, a topic of speculation among our school peers. She maintained a low profile regarding her family background. Strangely, I found myself often gazing in her direction. It unsettled me whenever I observed her quietly dining alone in the corner of the room.

She never made friends or engaged in conversation unless it was during an argument. I can't recall how our animosity toward each other began. Seeing her every day just irritated me to no end.

Seeing her wasn't enough to ruin my mood. One time during our last year in grade school, our teacher suddenly decided to have us seated at the same desk.

Talking about bad luck—I can't even make a fuss.

"Tsk! Why do I even need to be assigned beside you, of all people?" I grumbled.

"Just shut up. I don't like sitting next to you either," Laia snapped.

"Fine! I won't speak with you anymore," I declared, but it didn't provide any satisfaction.

I kept my word. However, I felt like I was the only one concerned by the stillness, whether during class or break time. I was so annoyed that I couldn't concentrate on the teacher's lectures.

One time, during our math class, I felt extremely bored and tried to draw rather than listen to the teacher. I was so engrossed in trifling that I did not realize my schoolteacher was approaching me. He suddenly seized my tablet and showed it to my classmates, especially Laia.

"Would you mind explaining the meaning of your action, Mr. Elrod?" our teacher demanded.

Our classmates chuckled at my drawing, observing my haphazard depiction of a girl with demon horns and a tail, her name scrawled beneath it as "Laia."

She looked offended and was speechless.

"I... S-Sir, I was just..." I faltered in fright, apprehension coursing through me after being caught red-handed.

"Slap him, Ms. Dominic," he ordered firmly, regarding me with disappointment.

I was petrified hearing his words coming straight from a teacher's mouth. I didn't understand why drawing her like that was a big deal. I knew she had someone backing her up, but I didn't expect the teacher to be so excessive as to teach a girl to hurt others just because of a childish mistake.

She was equally shocked by the teacher's words. While she hesitated at first, she ultimately complied with his command.

A momentary hush fell over the room as the resounding slap reverberated throughout its four corners. Laia ended up slapping me in front of the teacher and our classmates.

"I trust this will serve as a poignant lesson for those who fail to heed their teachers' guidance," the teacher declared sternly.

Punishments for misbehaving pupils were widespread and strongly ingrained in our school's culture. Nonetheless, it was the first time I faced such a penalty in front of my classmates.

He ended the class early, leaving us in silence.

"Aziel, does it hurt?" inquired a classmate sitting behind us.

I wanted to weep, but I couldn't. My classmates would start cackling if they saw me sobbing over a smack.

"No, it didn't. Laia stopped midway before her hand landed on my face," I answered, trying to smile despite shivering due to shock.

She looked away without uttering a word.

"Are you sure? It was too loud; how couldn't it hurt?" she asked again.

"Yeah! It was too loud to be a fake slap," Carlo added anxiously.

Laia faltered as if she was ostracized, but her thoughts remained a mystery. I felt frustrated because I was the one who was hurt, yet she acted as though she were the one wronged.

"It didn't hurt. Really! How could Laia's small hand hurt me? Are you saying that I'm a weakling?" I insisted, boosting despite my swollen face.

Since that day, I no longer looked her way and never minded what she was doing. I focused on the class and tried not to offend her until we graduated and parted ways.

[End of Flashback]

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"F***! This piece of s***! Why did he even bring that up in front of everyone?" I whispered, trying to ignore the embarrassment that was consuming me.

I vigorously splashed my face with tap water in the restroom sink, endeavoring to regain my composure before returning to the table. I reexamined the adjacent table and noticed it was already empty.

"They might have departed," I grumbled.

"Are you referring to Laia Dominic?" Carlo inquired while wrapping his arm over the girl sitting next to him and leaning back before crossing his legs.

"What? No! I couldn't care less about her!" I vehemently protested.

"You're not a convincing liar, buddy! Hahaha!" Eric taunted.

"I have nothing to do with her. I'm leaving!" I muttered as I snatched my phone from the table.

"Hey! Are you genuinely upset about what we said?" Carlo asked.

"No, I'm just drained. I still need to rise early tomorrow to pick up Sienna from the airport," I answered candidly, hastily grabbing my coat and bag before departing.