As Valentino listened to the old man he gradually understood more and more. Of course he wasn't some ancient time traveller. He had heard and seen the internet and computers. However, as Emmanuel he was just too poor to explore modern technic. He was barely able to keep himself afloat by selling some lousy paintings, sometimes for less than one hundred dourus.
"You see, this is an app called Snapshot. You can use it to upload videos and pictures. Here, this is my profile. Here I am winning at blackjack. This is me playing poker against Mitch Herson! Oh, oh. This is the profile of my granddaughter Clara. Isn't she cute? Next, let's search for Seronion's. You see all these videos they are posting here of artists coming to them? They just uploaded a new one, let's watch it!"
The older man became more enthusiastic the more he talked. He tapped the newest video and watched a young man in a vintage suit enter through the door of one of Seronion's shops.
"World! Embrace the real, unfiltered art!"
Suddenly the old man fell silent. He looked between his phone and Valentino a few times.
"It's really you! Congratulations, you are about to become famous!", exclaimed the old man with wide eyes.
Valentino sat next to him, frozen. He didn't know how to feel. But when the older man opened the comments, Valentino slowly balled his fists.
"Haha, real art? And then he left without selling his painting? What a clown!"
"Seronion's found a new fool."
"Look, new meme template arrived:"
"So, people like this actually exist? Too funny! Too funny!"
"Can someone find that man for me? I will buy his painting for 3 million to add some 'real art' to my collection."
"Wow, a rich man has arrived!"
"Hey, please, I can also create 'real art'!"
"Does that artist have an account? Come, tag him."
Valentino's breath grew strenuous, and he gritted his teeth, barely stopping himself from cursing out loud. The older man quickly tried to calm him down:
"Young man, this is a good thing. Don't mind what these people are saying, they are just spectators. But as long as your name becomes known, some ridicule is worth it. Wasn't that your goal from the start?"
Hands shaking, Valentino stared at the older man. He couldn't endure the humiliation. He forced himself to show a light smile, thanked the man for his help, and stood up to leave.
Watching Valentino's back the older man could still hear his curses.
"Ignorant! Ignorant! I am the biggest painter this world has ever seen! I will show them all!"
The older man's face slowly turned tranquil. He put away his phone and opened his palm, staring thoughtfully at the coin which had never left his hand.
Hours passed and the sun slowly sank below the horizon, wrapping the Golden City in a cozy, orange blanket. But where other cities would go to bed the Golden City was only waking up. Neon lights turned on, illuminating the evening. The music picked up. People appeared on the streets, heading for night clubs and casinos. And somewhere among them was Valentino, downtrodden and without a plan.
"Damn it!"
Valentino entered a side street and kicked a trash can. He barely had any money left. It might only be enough to spend the night in some dirty motel at the edge of the city. This was not how he envisioned the first day of his new life!
Valentino continued cursing inwardly as he followed the side street. Shadows of buildings fell on his face, giving him a desolate appearance. But suddenly he frowned, feeling somewhat strange. Where had all the people gone? Although this street wasn't bustling earlier, it didn't make sense that he was alone, right?
A light wind blew, ruffling Valentino's hair, sending a chill down his spine. Only one thought came to his mind: run!
And so, he did. Tightly holding onto his painting Valentino ran as fast as his legs let him. His performance was startling, outperforming even world record sprinters. However, he didn't come far as a figure in black suddenly jumped out from the corner of a house, pointing a knife at Valentino.
"Stop! If you know what's…"
Before the male voice could continue it was violently interrupted by a fist landing in its face. The assailant tumbled back in shock, completely unprepared for Valentino's speed.
"Guys!"
A loud shout echoed through the quiet street. Three more figures in black suddenly appeared in front of Valentino.
The painter frowned. But he knew that the worst he could do now was stopping. No, instead, he sped up even more, squeezing out the last bit of strength. He approached the three figures blocking his way.
"Stop and nobody needs to get hurt! We only want that painting!"
Valentino didn't listen. He would never give his precious paintings to some petty thieves. At full speed he aimed for the leftmost of the three thieves and used his shoulder like a battering ram.
Painful shouts and groans could be heard as the two men collided. The thief felt as if hit by a car. He could even hear his own ribs cracking, his breath growing erratic.
But Valentino was not much better off. The knife had pierced his waist, creating a bloody wound. The searing pain rushed through his body, clouding his mind. And yet Valentino kept repeating this one thought, forcing himself to run.
"Where do you want to escape to?! We will find you anyways!"
The voice of the thief rang in Valentino's ears as they started their pursuit. And this was indeed a valid question. Where could Valentino escape to? Of course, Valentino had something in mind. This was not the first time he encountered such a situation. He found his pocket and pulled out a certain card.
Café of Dreams. An invitation for Valentino Amico. The card had always been encased in solid plastic. And yet the name on it had changed by itself. And not only that. Even the address switched from Indel City to a certain place in Golden City.
Valentino felt some relief, realizing that the café wasn't far away. Not lowering his speed, he soon left the thieves behind. He turned into an alley, and another one. The buildings flew past him. Soon, he reached a standard three-story residential building located in the shadowy alley. Valentino didn't care if anyone saw him and opened the door. The familiar black swirl welcomed him as he stepped past the threshold.
A minute later, footsteps could be heard. Four figures in black arrived, staring at the floor.
"The blood trail leads to this place. Perhaps he has a flat here. Let's go."
The others nodded. One of them opened the door and looked inside. The corridor was old but rather clean and the light was good. The conditions were great to follow a conspicuous trail of blood. So why… couldn't they find any sings of it?!
Elsewhere, Olivier was leaning against the counter, idly twirling his thumbs in boredom. Suddenly the ring of a bell sounded through the café, and the door was roughly pushed open. An unfamiliar man stumbled in, his suit stained with red blood. Olivier was startled, just about to offer help when information about the man appeared in his eyes.
[Timothy Ellfand/ Norman Quipp/ Emmanuel Verou/ Valentino Amico
Lifespan: 92,3/167,3
Origin: Golden City, Geirus]
"Emmanuel?"
Olivier questioned himself. It couldn't be helped, the man across from him looked just too different. Obviously, he, Emmanuel, had taken on another new identity.
Valentino pressed his hand against his wound, sitting down on the closest table and spoke with a weak voice:
"Coffee. Please."
"Sir… you are bleeding. Don't you need medical assistance?"
"You… just coffee."
Noticing a hint of impatience, Olivier complied. He quickly prepared a cup of coffee, even shortening the time to grind the beans. As the familiar smell reached his nose, Valentino perked up a little. He greedily took the cup of coffee and downed it in one go. Immediately he felt much better. A warmth ran through his body and settled on his wound, healing it slowly. Valentino asked for two more cups. After drinking them both he took off his shirt and cleaned his wound, soon revealing only a thin scar.
Olivier watched the whole process. He was quite surprised to see that his coffee had such an effect. However, Valentino had paid no small price for this. His lifespan didn't increase but he lost 0,3 years of his life.
However, Valentino deemed it worth it. As his beating heart calmed down, he sat on his chair and lamented:
"Ahh, Barista… I had a terrible day."
"I can tell…"
Valentino chuckled before telling Olivier everything that happened. The latter found the situation quite familiar. Hadn't Benjamin also vented like this during his last visit? Was this becoming a common occurrence now?
Well, it wasn't that surprising. The café was perfectly safe for its customers and whatever secrets they told Olivier would never find a way back to their homes. And who knows, perhaps an outsider could sometimes see the situation clearer and offer valuable advice. Just like right now.
Olivier was quite amazed by Valentino's story. It never came to him that there might be such a major difference between his and his customers' home worlds. Olivier had never heard about something like smartphones. I would have been so convenient if they had something like this at home. After Valentino ended his story, Olivier pondered for a moment before suggesting:
"So why don't you also use this Snapshot thingy? Perhaps you can attract people interested in your paintings through that."