Chapter 46: The terrace.

A sudden warmth embraced me as I walked out. Sunlight. No clouds. The same warmth led me to the ledge. The sight was stunning. A world of contrast was out there. My retina had a lot of work to process that many colors. The area was busy and beautifully chaotic ⁠—⁠more than San Fernando Valley. “Maybe I should move here.” ⁠—⁠I thought.

But it wasn't North Hollywood what was draining me. It was the pointlessness of existence, the one I had been fleeing from. The sun spell that interrupted my fearful loneliness had expired rapidly. On dispel, I was left fantasizing about jumping.

“Not a solution, just an end.” ⁠—⁠that wasn't a comforting thought. Maybe that button already pressed in the elevator had been a sign. Just one more step, a horrifying dozen seconds, a splat. Sure death. Well, likely.

I hoped loneliness existed in a different realm to fear. That would make it much easier. So I could be at ease.

A split tore the fabrics of reality in two: in one, I jumped. And my consciousness went on into living the promised perfect life. In the other, I returned to living the mediocre, depression‑inspired role of a soul unable to run away from its own negativity. Of course, the former has too much fantasy in it: in reality, pure darkness an a total absence of memories awaited after the splat.

As the insane person I had become, I was on the process of dissolving into tears. Interruptions would give me no respite ⁠—⁠the sound of the closing door dragged me out from my suicidal ideations.

“That's not a solution, just an end.” ⁠—⁠I heard a female voice say out loud.

I turned back. Yet another silhouette, Indetermination.

“Who's there?” ⁠—⁠I asked.

“Sibyl.” ⁠—⁠she said with a peculiar, rusty voice. That was her name. That's what she said. Her voice... I had heard that voice before.

What ⁠—⁠if anything⁠—⁠ was she going to tell me? What was her poisoned prediction for me? No. She was a mere human, joking around about me jumping off the building. Coincidentally verbalizing the same sentence I had had in my mind, only moments before. Had she known that that was close to my actual thought process, she wouldn't have joked about that.

Or else, Sibyl was a cruel woman. But she had an enchanting smile. No wonder why she worked for the clothing design company. She had style and charm. I never had wished to be a different person. Until that moment. All her superficial attributes ⁠—⁠but her voice.

I didn't really know anything about Sibyl except for the momentary allure that she had used to draw me off a free fall. Still, had I been given the opportunity to swap lives with her, I would have taken it in a jiffy. She would just get an empty life deprived from any real happiness in that exchange.

As for me, incarnating Sibyl, I would enjoy some social clairvoyance: I'd see whatever was convenient for me ⁠—⁠a proper assessment of what initiating any relationship, any contact with anybody would offer me. Quantifying happiness and despair. Seeing the future. A floating number on top of every person's head with an infallible calculation, direct insight on how that person would affect my happiness.

Then ⁠—⁠still as Sibyl⁠—⁠ I wouldn't have a problem at all seducing the positive scores into my life. Have you got more than 0.8? Come into my life. I'll feed in whatever happiness you produce. If your score drops, you'll be out. Don't worry, real clairvoyance means that the initial score remains precise in the long run. None of you actually stayed with me when I couldn't make you happy. I wouldn't do the same: able to see till the end of time, I wouldn't start something that wouldn't last forever.

My newfound freedom would endure without any requirements. In the pure pragmatism of it all, I'd choose if I want to adhere to the classic bummers: loyalty, empathy, sacrifice. Best of all, even if I chose to renounce from these in my search for a nasty kind of freedom, I wouldn't ever be seen as ugly or evil: As the priestess, most people would only see the fascinating beauty that occludes the revelation of her inner evil. My smile would enamour and all the chosen providers of ultimate happiness will gravitate around me to eventually collide. And become me, consumed by devotion.

Sibyl stopped my internal rambling, having read it in my mind. Probably she had concocted it and instilled it, anyway.

“Alice. I always liked your name! Where do you work?”

Oh, Sibyl. I had always known you. I knew you would keep that façade, as would I. Let's do small talk and pretend we can't read each other.

We talked a bit more, where she said she worked at KC Design. Fifth floor. I thought it was time to go. She walked out. The free will thief went back to whence she had come.

I knew that I would meet her again. Maybe next time I could even become her. I walked back to the office.