Irresponsible

Seven years later

Anton

I got out of the pool and looked around for a towel, which soon appeared in my hands. I scanned the area, searching for someone interesting among the many girls lounging around the deck of the massive, luxurious yacht, but none of them caught my attention. Always the same girls. Or maybe they just all looked alike.  

"What do you think about a boat ride to one of the islands?"  

"Not in the mood to get all sandy," I declined.  

The invitation came from Tony, my best friend and regular partner in my wild escapades.  

"Oh, stop being so uptight!" Tony complained, rolling his eyes. "You’re gonna miss out on a great trip."  

"Wow, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that…" I said sarcastically, taking the opportunity to call out to the nearest person. "Hey, girl! Bring me a beer!"  

The girl obeyed my request, and I sat back down on one of the sun loungers, enjoying the sea breeze. Tony probably went ahead with his plans, and soon enough, I had two girls trying to get my attention.  

But I wasn’t interested and just brushed them off. Yet luck wasn’t on my side that afternoon, because soon my sister was by my side.  

"I still don’t get why we didn’t go to Monaco this weekend," Anneliese brought up the same question for the tenth time that day.  

"Because Grandpa wants a meeting tomorrow, and we can’t miss it," I repeated the same answer as before, even though I knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.  

Anneliese is my younger sister, the baby of the Baumann family. Tall, slim, with light brown eyes and hair, she was the perfect picture of stunning beauty. But like me, Anneliese had never gotten seriously involved with anyone. We’re very close and share the same love for fun. Plus, of course, we avoid any situation that demands responsibility at all costs.  

"I’m sure whatever it is won’t interest us, Anton," Anneliese complained, sitting in the chair next to me. "If we call the pilot now, we’ll be in Monaco by tomorrow."  

"You don’t want to upset Leonel Baumann, Anneliese. I’m sure of that," I said, pushing my sports sunglasses up to check out the girl walking toward us.  

She was a redhead with long, straight hair, wearing a tiny bikini and sunglasses that covered nearly her whole face. But her face didn’t interest me, I thought mischievously.  

"Tony asked me to bring this to you, Anton," she said, handing me a drink.  

That was Tony’s way of letting me know there were new people around, and I accepted the drink but didn’t take a sip. I’d never trust strangers. That was one of my grandfather’s lessons that I absorbed.  

"And you are?" I asked, just out of courtesy.  

I won’t remember her name in the morning.  

"Pamela. But you can call me Pam," she said in a sweet voice.  

Anneliese, who had been quietly watching the scene, seemed to get exasperated at that moment and stood up, saying irritably:  

"I’ve had enough! I’m in no mood to stay here today."

I watched as Anneliese stormed off toward the yacht’s interior, wondering why she was so upset. Meanwhile, the girl placed herself in front of me, determined to get my attention one way or another.

" Why don't you sit down and have a drink with me?" I said to the girl, who eagerly accepted my invitation. "Are you here alone, Paula?"  

" It's Pam," she corrected me with a seductive smile, and added, "I'm with a friend..."  

" Hmm... Why don't you invite your friend to join us?"  

Hours later, they were keeping me company in my private cabin, sharing the hot tub with me.

*****

The next morning arrived as part of a routine that had repeated itself for years. The girls I’d spent the night with were already gone, and I found myself alone in my cabin. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my tired eyes reflected an image that seemed distant from who I was.  

The money, the luxury, and the endless parties had become my only refuge, but this empty, carefree life no longer brought me the same satisfaction as before. Once again, I confirmed that Pietra had always been right about me. I was the playboy she described that night seven years ago—always surrounded by girls, without real commitments, living a superficial life.  

I often wondered what had happened to Pietra over all these years. Maybe she’d built a full, happy life while I remained stuck in my self-destructive cycle. But, as I had done for years, I reflected on the same questions and went back to doing the same thing: drinking and enjoying my life of luxury, parties, and women.  

I put on some swim trunks, and a pair of sunglasses, and walked up to the deck, where a few people were scattered around the benches. Everyone looked visibly tired from the previous day’s party, which had gone on until dawn.  

" I’m exhausted," Tony said, flopping down in the chair next to me. "Thinking about having a meeting this afternoon stresses me out."  

I said nothing in response. Unlike Tony, who had taken over the family business after his father’s untimely death, I was still free to enjoy a carefree life, as my grandfather remained in charge of his companies, keeping me content in every way.  

" What are you doing today?" Tony asked, giving me a tired look.  

" Lunch with my grandparents and then I’m going to the club. Hangover?"  

" Definitely," Tony confirmed. "See you tomorrow night at Erica’s birthday?"  

Erica is Tony’s sister, and we’ve been friends for far too long for me to just skip the event, even when I don’t feel like going. Erica has become more insistent about us getting closer, which is something I don’t want.  

" Yeah, of course."  

We talked for a few more minutes as the yacht headed back to the dock. Other friends joined us, and we made plans for the next weekend. A few hours later, I was already in my car, driving to my grandparents' mansion, but as I drove, my thoughts were far away from that car.  

My thoughts were always on Pietra. Her sincere smile, her caring way of treating people, her determination to follow her dreams... all of it remained vivid in my memory, despite the time that had passed.  

Life had separated us since that night at Priscila’s house, and we hadn’t had any contact since. I knew she had a boyfriend, and I didn’t even try to reach out again. At the time, her rejection devastated me, and I chose to shut myself off even more, fully embracing the empty playboy life, surrounded by people who meant nothing to me.  

But now, seven years later, I was exhausted from this superficial life, and Pietra’s name echoed as the answer to the emptiness in my chest. Maybe, deep down in my heart, I still held onto the hope that there could be a second chance for us.  

Lost in thought, I took a while to realize that I had gone the wrong way, and now I had no idea where I was. I didn’t try to correct my route and just drove through random streets in São Paulo. Judging by the increasingly worn-down appearance of some buildings and houses, I assumed it was a less financially privileged neighborhood.  

Then, the car stalled and came to a stop in the middle of the street. I looked at the dashboard, perplexed, and saw that the fuel gauge was empty. I sighed, realizing that my lack of attention to detail was costing me. My phone had also died, making it impossible to call for help.  

I decided to get out of the car and push it to the sidewalk. As I did, I noticed a few people curiously watching, probably surprised to see a luxury car stopped in a humble neighborhood. In a way, I felt out of place, like I was in a distant world.  

I chose to take a walk through the neighborhood to find a gas station. As I walked, I observed the reality of the people living there. Children playing in simple parks, people chatting happily on the doorsteps of their modest homes, and small, bustling local shops.  

At a corner, I spotted a small snack bar called "Vó Maria’s Snack Bar." I decided to go in and ask for directions, and when I did, I was greeted by a kind, smiling elderly woman, likely "Vó Maria" herself. She asked if I needed anything, and I explained my situation.  

With great kindness, she pointed me to a nearby gas station. I thanked her, and before leaving, I decided to order a coffee. I realized it was already past 2 PM, and I hadn’t eaten anything yet.  

" You look tired, young man," the lady pointed out, something that was hard not to notice. "I could bring you a full meal. How about that?"  

" I’ll take it," I agreed readily. "I just realized I’m starving."  

The lady left the place empty, as I was the only customer at the moment, and went through a discreet door behind the counter. I only noticed the waitress approaching when a pair of female hands placed a plate of food in front of me.  

"Anything else, sir?" a familiar voice asked.  

That voice triggered a whirlwind of emotions inside me. A suffocating anxiety swept through my whole body, and a strange palpitation hit my heart.  

"Pietra?" I asked with difficulty.