Chapter 6

Friday.

Philip doesn't know how he did it, but it is done.

The week has gone by agonizingly, with blank nights and exhausting days grinding Philip's mind and body like never before in his life.

But it is done.

"Philip? Are you all right?" Ruth asks Philip, who's sitting at his desk.

Philip's tiredness is such that he feels it is hard to even speak words in a coherent way. "I'm fine, Ruth, ... I'm fine..."

"You look like shit..."

"He's been working all day and night..." Ilene says, from across his desk.

Images of Ruth, in the filthy bathroom at the bar, all of a sudden flash in his mind. His frail state of mind barely holds it together, with regret and sadness overwhelming him as Ilene and Ruth talk next to him.

"I ... The Transport Ministry webpage demos are being uploaded as we speak," Philip utters.

"That's GREAT news, Philip! That's really great! Good job!" Ruth exclaims, clearly excited with Philip's update on the project.

"Thanks ... Please share that compliment with the other guys as well..."

"You got it! Wow, you guys are great, I never doubted you! This will make quite an impression on the rest of the company, believe me!" Ruth continues, her joyfulness almost breaking through the fogginess of his mind. "I'll tell Agatha to review it and I'll give you feedback as soon as possible, OK? GREAT job Philip!"

Almost.

As Ruth walks away, flashes of the disgusting, nauseating moments in Agatha's office rip, uninvited, through his mind.

All week, during work, during lunch, dinner, during his sleep, he was haunted by thoughts of the older woman on top of him, humiliating and abusing him. Urinating on him.

Ruth in the filthy bathroom; Agatha; working day and night; the coldness in his body; the weariness.

Philip leans his head on his hands, as if to help him shut away those thoughts and feelings. He looks at Ilene.

He barely said a word to her all week, and she's been so sweet and nice to him, always trying to help and comfort him.

He has to make it up to her, and shake off all of the shit from his head. He's done his work; he put up with that ... disgusting bitch ... And now, he has to move forward.

"Ilene ... Are you up for a movie after work?" he asks, trying his best to bring his tone to "normal", shaking off the weariness.

"I'm in!" she smiles. "And, a couple of beers to celebrate your project delivery, yes?"

"Sure ... You may have to carry me; I'm not sure I can handle drinking one beer."

4AM in the morning, and Philip and Ilene walk the wintery streets of Vienna, back to their home.

The few beers Philip drank at the After Eight bar brought him some welcoming numbness, but now he feels he didn't drink enough of them to cope with the terrible coldness on their way back.

Ilene's hand trembles with the coldness, as she smokes her third cigarette since they left the bar. At least, that must be warming her up in some way, he thinks.

They finally get to their poor neighborhood, and, although the old, faulty streetlamps don't manage to properly illuminate their way, Philip somehow catches a glimpse of their building through the relentless cold night.

He also notices a big Mercedes-Benz parked next to their building.

"Someone is lost, that's pretty uncommon here..." he tells Ilene, pointing to the car.

"Yeah ... Or not..." Ilene replies, looking to a well-dressed guy down the street, next to a group of scantily dressed girls.

Hookers.

Philip hates this place. He feels miserable having to walk everyday to this shithole. His heart sinks even more when he looks at Ilene. Each time they walk back to their poor, grim home in this god-forsaken part of the city, he can see the sadness and melancholy taking hold of Ilene like at no other time during the day.

Walking to the building's front door, Philip reaches for his keys, as quick as he can, to get him and Ilene out of the miserable coldness. He just can't wait to lie in the bed, next to Ilene, and sleep some 20 fucking hours.

"Hey, isn't that ... Mariah, an Associate from the company?" Ilene asks.

Philip's heart almost stops.

He looks back, and Mariah, wearing a big, white winter coat, is closing the Mercedes-Benz door behind her.

Almost instantly, from the driver's seat, Agatha is also walking out.

Fear, mixed with hate, gets a hold on Philip, freezing him where he stands.

"Hi guys!" Mariah exclaims. In the midst of the avalanche of his uncontrolled feelings, he can't help but notice her usual stupid smile. "We're SO sorry to drop by at these preposterous hours!"

"Hello Philip, and Ilene." Agatha says, while walking towards them. Her tone, her severe voice, is an opposite contrast with the mocking and playful tone of Mariah. "You didn't answer your cell phone."

"I..." Philip mutters. He clumsily searches for his cell phone in his pockets, and looks at it. "It's ... in silence mode ... I went to see a movie and forgot to turn it up again. What's ... What's the matter?"

Philip hopes the dread he's feeling isn't showing. He hopes they can't hear his heart beating uncontrollably.

"We waited here for hours," Agatha says. "But nonetheless, we came here to personally congratulate you."

"Yes! You managed to do it! Who would've guessed? Hahahaha!" Mariah laughs.

"I ... Well ... Thank you..." Philip says, in a plain confused state. He looks at Ilene, and she looks back, as if she's as much confused as Philip.

"We have just a few modifications here, a change or two to the names of the different sections, and we're done," Agatha says.

Philip stares at Agatha for a moment. The severe expression on her face, her unpleasant voice, her breath in the freezing night, her expensive black cloth winter coat from Gucci over some sort of another floral dress, her exposed legs in this chilling coldness, her blue Prada high heels ... Everything in her alarms Philip and makes his heart race with fear.

"But ... Now?" he asks.

Agatha stares at him for a few seconds. He regrets asking that already.

"I have a brunch tomorrow with a Secretary from the Transports Ministry. I'm sure you understand that," she replies.

Philip looks at Ilene, confused, nervous, not knowing what to do. She shrugs her shoulders in an almost imperceptible way.

"It's a quick thing, kids! We'll be out in 10 minutes or less!" Mariah playfully says.

Philip fucking hates every time this bitch calls him a "kid". He's tired, he's numb from the beers, he's freezing and his head just can't think straight. "OK ... Let's get this through ... It's just buttons' names ... Right?"

"Yes, it's just buttons' names" Agatha says, her every word screaming impatience and annoyance.

"All right ... Let's go up, and I'll do those changes in my personal laptop..." Philip says, pointing to his building.

Reaching the faintly lit hallway of the building, Agatha and Mariah suddenly stop.

"What's ... What's the matter?" Philip asks.

"You don't have an elevator??" Mariah asks. "Oh MY GOD! What floor do you live on??"

"Fourth floor..." he replies.

"Are you serious? We have to climb all those stairs in these high heels? Hahahahahaha!!" she laughs. "Hey, no wonder Ilene doesn't wear these!! Hahaha!!"

Philip restrains his sudden urge to answer back to that bitch, and looks at Ilene to see if she's hurt by that stupid remark. Her eyes are looking down, to the floor, but she's looking the same as always.

"Let's just go and get this done," he says, grabbing Ilene's hand as they go up the stairs.

Philip closes the door as Agatha and Mariah enter their small living room.

"God, it's colder in here than outside, isn't it?" Mariah asks, looking around her.

Philip ignores Mariah's scornful observation, sits at his dinner table and opens his laptop. "Please, show me what I have to change in the demo..."

Agatha opens her purse and takes a few folded pages out, spreading them in the dinner table, right next to Philip's laptop. "Here they are."

"Do you want something to drink? Some ... Beer ... Or hot chocolate?" Ilene nervously asks, next to the two older women in high heels.

"We're fine, dear," Mariah says, still looking around, as if mesmerized by the looks of Philip's apartment.

Agatha leans next to Philip's ear, puts her hand in his shoulder, and whispers: "Get rid of her, now. I don't want her here while we are working."

Philip is taken aback. He glances at Agatha's eyes, and that dread he felt outside when he saw her getting out of the Mercedes, is back.

"Ilene ... Do you mind if we work here alone? I want to get this done quickly ... And this may take a bit of time..." he asks, his voice trembling, fearing that Ilene might realize that it was Agatha that asked him to say that.

"Oh ... Sure, of course! I'm very sleepy already, so ... I'm going to bed, OK?"

"Thanks, babe..."

"Bye everyone..."

"Bye bye, my dear!" Mariah exclaims.

While Philip types, trying to focus his weary mind on making the changes to the code, Agatha and Mariah sit in Philip's couch, chatting about the latest rumors and intrigues in the company.

Mariah eventually gets bored talking about the company's trivia, and starts bragging about her latest Versace purse, prompting Agatha to comment about Versace's latest fashion show, one that she went to two months ago.

Philip feels himself deep in a surreal world. The freezing air in the room makes it even harder for him to cope with Agatha and Mariah, at his home, chatting away while he types away lines of code, right next to them.

"I'm tired of this low class dump," Agatha says. "I'm going to prep our treat."

Philip looks back, and sees her next to the living room's old wooden sideboard, dropping carefully on top of it some ... white powder? Drugs?

"What... ? What is that?" he asks.

Agatha doesn't say a word; she doesn't even bother looking at him. She takes a credit card from her purse, and spreads the "powder" into small lines.

"God, he's STUPID, huh?" Mariah mockingly says to Agatha. "That's COCAINE, kid!"

After the last half-hour working, Philip doesn't know what to think. They're going to do drugs, in his living room.

"My dear, do you think someone who lives in a dump like this can afford this?" Agatha asks Mariah. "Don't mind him. Get up and take a whiff."

"Fuck yeah! It might even shake off a bit of this shitty coldness!" Mariah gets up from the couch, and, using the rolled bill that Agatha gives her, she snorts a line of cocaine. "Oh YEAH! Fuck! This is good shit!"

Philip watches as Mariah reaches for a mirror in her purse and checks if any trace of cocaine is left below her nostril.

"So, this PUSSY here, you used him, right?" Mariah asks Agatha. "This pathetic piece of shit?"

Philip's heartbeat stops for a moment. Mariah knows.

"Yes. Philip, are you done with the modifications?" Agatha asks, her voice chilling his veins. His hands begin to tremble, uncontrollably. "I said, are you DONE?"

"I ... I think so ... Yes ... It's over..." he mutters, his words barely getting out of his throat.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Mariah laughs.

"Take off your pants and whatever you have beneath that, and sit in the couch," Agatha orders Philip, her heartless voice ripping violently through all of Philip's senses.

"What? No ... I ... No ... Please..." he says, trembling, desperately wishing this is a nightmare, that he is in his bed after coming back from the After Eight bar, and is having the worst nightmare in his life. "I've done the modifications ... Please ... Just go."

"Ha ha ha ha ha" Maria mockingly laughs. "He's REALLY pathetic! Just make him do it already!"

Agatha walks next to Philip, and grabs him by his cheek bones with one hand. "If I have to tell you this ONE more time, you don't have to go back on Monday. Do you UNDERSTAND?"