Page 107 of Back Room Host

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Luca

For two weeks, I’d been in a bad mood, but since finishing my film on Juri, I was pissed off. It had been almost a week since I ran into him on the street. After my flood of messages, I’d forbidden myself from writing to him anymore. Now it was his turn. I was sure he’d reach out soon, but six days of radio silence had passed.

I was ten minutes early to meet Verena, so I smoked a cigarette by the cafeteria’s entrance. I’d been trying to avoid such dead moments in the past few days, distracting myself with anything to keep from checking Juri’s profile. I’d been successful at it; since no one else messaged me on WhatsApp, I rarely opened the app. But now, I was itching to know.

Did he even read my messages?

I’d sent him the last one on Friday night, just to apologize. God! My heart ached! The tightness around my chest just wouldn’t let up. I gave in and opened the app. I nervously took a drag of my cigarette and blew out the smoke. My fingers were stiff from the cold, and the phone almost slipped from my hand. My last message had been marked as read, but something had changed. Juri’s profile picture. I tapped on it and saw a black screen.

What’s this all about?

He’s back in business and ready for orders.

What does this mean?

I stared at the black screen for a while, which wasn’t entirely black. It was more like someone had put their hand in front of the lens, as there was still a little light, but not enough to see anything.

My heart pounded heavily as I struggled to comprehend. By now, I’d learned one thing: Juri communicated with his customers through his account.

What happened?

I was sure something had happened. And whatever it was, it had to be serious.

If only the picture were white. But no, it’s black!

Fuck!

“Hey, Luca!”

Out of nowhere, Verena emerged in front of me.

Oh no, I really didn’t want to have this conversation now. After greeting her politely, taking one final drag of my cigarette, I extinguished it in the ashtray by the entrance, and then reluctantly followed my mentor into the cafeteria. Shortly after, I sat at the table with a cappuccino, looking at Verena’s hopeful expression. I almost felt sorry for subjecting her to me. I couldn’t even muster a smile and just sighed.

Verena retrieved her Moleskine and fine liner from her oversized leather bag and sipped her latte macchiato. She was aware by now that I didn’t care for small talk and preferred getting straight to the point.

“So? How’s it going? Did you finish the concept?”

I just made a disgruntled face. “Sorry. I got nothing. Since Monday, I've been contemplating canceling the appointment, but ultimately, it wouldn't have changed anything. I still have to write the concept.”

“Since you didn’t send me anything in advance, I assumed you’d been working on it until this morning.”

I stirred my cappuccino thoughtfully for a long time, watching the chocolate powder dissolve. Inevitably, I thought of Juri, how I’d offered him hot chocolate when we first met, and he shamelessly asked for a second packet. A smile crossedmy lips, but the memory was pushed aside by the black profile picture, which dampened my mood again.

“Did you do anything over the holidays?” Verena asked cautiously.

“The whole time.”

“What were you working on?”

“Just on this … small project. Nothing special.”

“Do you have it with you?”

I always brought my laptop for our conversations, so I nodded.

“May I see it?”

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