The sun was slowly rising over the horizon of Paris, the first ray of light started to shine over the city. The flowers slowly bloomed and a police officer was crowing alongside a 'light' beat of metal bars.
"Wake up in there ! " yelled an energetic voice.
Thomas tried to not groan but it was stronger than him. He felt like the bench became the most comfortable bed he ever had in his life. He got up gently. His hands rubbing his sleepy eyes. He groaned a second time, this time because he remembered he had fallen asleep with his glasses on. He turned toward the officer who was waiting for him with a smirk on his face.
"Hello, 'sleeping beauty' ! We need you to fill some form and we shall escort you to your new room, " said the police officer in a joyful voice. It was different from his previous tone from yesterday which felt like he was suffering simply from being present.
The police officer felt more real and alive. Maybe it was a trick played by his own mind. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. Or maybe he was just overthinking it. Thomas was never the best at social interaction or anything related to other people. Just the idea of talking or going out made him anxious.
"H-ello" answered Thomas back but As his tone went down at the last syllable, he already wanted to die.
I am truly the peak of social interaction thought Thomas
The officer chuckled, maybe he was used and amused at this kind of reaction. He hoped it was that, he didn't want to be the only person to fail to say a simple greeting. The door to his cell was opened and he took his first step outside. It felt strange but in a good way. He only spent one day and a night in the cell but he felt like a burden was lifted off his shoulder. His mind felt more grounded, not that weird floating feeling he got when he arrived.
A side effect of my arrival here ? Maybe not a side effect but something close !
He was escorted to the front desk where another officer was waiting. Their outfit wasn't that different from the one who brought him, blue shirt, black pants and that ugly hat, but Thomas could see that the new officer had one less star on his shoulder pad. Maybe it means that he was from a grade lower. They stopped in front of the desk where a clipboard and a folder were resting. He could see his name on both of them.
The 'joyful' officer stepped forward and pointed to different squares on the papers.
"Sign here, here and here. In simple terms, the first paper is that you are willingly joining back society , you are aware that every false information you gave us will be considered a fraudulent act and that you have the "right" to correct the information you gave if there is an error" he took a deep breath and continued.
It was mostly legal stuff and him acknowledging that he was being discharged and he has all of his stuff with him. The final paper was far more important, it was his temporary identification paper and by signing them he was officially a member of the society. Thomas signed every square he needed to do and then was handed his folder and papers.It felt strange holding this folder, maybe the administration processes became faster and more efficient since the "Fracture" but he doubted it.
Is it my lucky day ? thought Thomas as he was escorted to the back of a car. After the officers got in their seats and did all their little 'ritual', the car started and moved gently out of the police station then through the streets of Paris.His eyes took in all they could. The streets and the people wandering them. His initial impression of them was correct, people were really good looking.
As they moved down the street, he could see the Eiffel Tower peeking from the top of the buildings. The buildings were old, they did have some kind of sci-fi vibe here and there. Holographic flag pole or small projection indicating commerce. It clashed heavily with the old architecture but people didn't seem to pay much attention to it. It was the norm for them. He stopped looking at the view and turned his focus toward his hands.
His hands were moist. He felt anxious at the idea of holding those papers. He didn't want to wrinkle them so he laid them down on his lap. He could see the eyes of the 'joyful' officer peeking at him from the rear mirror. His eyes had an amused gleam in them. He couldn't hear if the two officers were talking together. The car was humming gently, taking slow turns and sometimes leaving sharply in one direction.
He doesn't know how long he was in the car when it suddenly came to a stop. The car parked it in front of a building looking like HLM but with a huge logo slapped at the front. It was bright red and flickering. In between flickers you could read the letters "MTEL", the "O" wasn't even turning on.
Thomas turned toward the officers, who told him to get out. As he stepped out of the car, the 'joyfull' officer rolled down his window.
"Go to the main entrance and get the room under your name," said the officer, "we will be doing a regular check up every 2 weeks. The motel will inform us if you leave earlier than the 2 months we gave you. Try to keep us informed okay ?"
I nodded at his word and turned to make my way toward the entrance but the officer's voice cut him off.
"By the way, the name is Pierre Renaud and this is my partner Louis Charles. Asking for people's names is the polite thing to do." He flicked his finger in a quick salute and drove off, leaving him behind.
As he walked in the motel, Thomas tried to shrug off the embarrassment. Of course introducing yourself and asking for people's names was the correct thing to do. Why didn't he do it ? It's not that he forgot, he just didn't want to do it. Why would he ask the name of a police officer ? Was he trying to be friendly or just trying to embarrass him ? He knew this was going to keep him up all night.
Like the 'joyfull' officer, Pierre, said, he got the key to his room pretty easily alongside the instruction to make his way to it and how to open the door. The person behind the desk seemed tired and exasperated but he shrugged it off as just being a bad day. The walk to the room from the front desk was quick. 2 floors up, turn left and walk 3 doors down the hallway and he arrived. Thomas stood in front of the door for a minute. This felt strange to him. His mind felt like it was floating again. Another wave of stress hitting him ? Or was it the opposite, a sense of relief washing over him ? His throat felt dry and his mouth felt viscous and sticky, like he took a shot of sirop but without the sugar and barely any liquid. He tried to take a calming breath but no matter how deep he breathed, it didn't seem to work.
He only saw one solution. He pressed his key, more like a card than a key but he kept referring to it as the key, on the lock and walked in. The room wasn't something grand. A room with a small window facing the city of Paris, a bathroom on his left at the entrance of the room, a small bed in the far right corner. The walls of the room were yellow with ugly brown stripes. He had a small table in the middle of the room alongside two chairs tucked under it. The table was stained and had wear marks on it. He also had a small cabinet with a small fridge on its left, it was facing the bed and from the weird nose coming from it, it was currently turned on.
Thomas put his folder and papers on the table, and sat down on the bed. The bed made a weird cricking noise.The spring of the mattress, getting compressed by his weight, squeaked. In a strange way, it reminded him of his childhood. When his parents were moving left and right trying to find a job and making him sleep alongside his brother on an old bed that was too small for 2 persons. He smiled gently before observing the room once more. Nothing had changed since he walked in but he discovered that he had a clock fixed to the wall.
The clock's hand indicated it was barely 9 in the morning. The car ride felt like it was going on for at least an hour. Thomas frowned. He didn't know the current day and he had a lot of things to do. Too much in his opinion. With an exasperated sigh, he stood back up and took the folder laying on the table, he pulled out the WcDonald brochure. He knew what he had to do. He had to face the worst nightmare of the both Worlds, past and current. He, as a young adult, had to get a job in an entry position.