When Roy Met Giza: Amsterdam

Time: 2.45pm

Giza: Roy, baby, this is ridiculous. Even for you.

Roy: How so?

They are both yelling that to each other, because Roy is standing on top of some old construction equipment, sort of a crane, which is next to a water stream, about three, maybe four stories high.

Roy is about to jump into the water. There’s no rope or bungee cable. No life vest either.

Roy: I’m gonna jump!

Giza: I think in this case it’s just called falling.

Roy: Shhh! I’m in the zone! The danger zone!

Giza: Are you sure you want to do this?

Roy: What did I say to you before I got up here?

Giza: (rolls her eyes a bit, but says it with love) Don’t talk me out of this.

Roy: HEY GIZA! (yells that out loud)

Giza: Yeah?! (yells it back)

Roy: Hey, EVERYONE!

He yells that out loud to all the 50-odd people sitting on the benches at this outdoor brewery in Amsterdam’s Havens-Oost.

The crowd cheers him on.

Some of the crowd: WHAT?!

Roy: I LOVE THIS GIRL!

The crowd: JUMP!

He jumps.

15 minutes later. Same location.

Roy: (sounding loopy) Am I drinking a beer called the ‘Funky Falcon’?

Giza: Yes, you are.

Roy: Cool.

Roy loops out again.

Another 15 minutes later. Same location.

Roy: What’s this now? A beer called Green Bullet! (pauses) What happened to the Fucky Balcony that I was drinking earlier?

Giza: You already drank it.

Roy: I did? Good. It was so good.

Roy Loops out again.

30 minutes later. Not the same location.

Roy: Woah. Wheeeereeee are we now?

Giza: (a bit upset) Are you kidding me? We’ve been at this restaurant for like 15 minutes.

Giza holds Roy’s face by one hand, and makes him drink a glass of water by the other.

Roy: Whaaaat…

Giza: Shut up. No more beer for you. Just drink this.

Another hour later.

Roy zones in again, this time in a hotel room. He’s wearing a bathrobe, sitting up on the bed, as Giza gets out of the shower, also wearing a bathrobe.

Roy: (confused) Did we just… take that shower together?

Giza: (not amused, but sounding relieved) You wish. (pauses) I wish.

She sits on the edge of the bed.

Giza: You must be hungry.

Roy awkwardly crawls up to Giza, and hugs her from behind.

Roy: Just a little.

Giza doesn’t respond to his hug and kiss tactics.

Roy: I’m really sorry, baby…

Giza: It’s okay…

Roy: I swear… I really didn’t think that weed would hit me that bad.

Giza: I know, I should’ve stopped you.

Roy: Man, that water was really cold.

Giza: Yeah, weird that the water was so cold… in December!

Giza throws a pillow at him.

Roy: Ouch!

Giza: Roy… you… (pauses)

Roy: What?

Giza: You really don’t need to do all this shit to impress me.

Roy: (amused) Really?

Giza: (not amused) Really.

Roy: Okay, I’m really sorry.

Giza: You don’t have to be sorry either.

She lies down on the bed, not that close to Roy, and turns up the tv’s volume.

10 minutes later.

Roy: Can I ask you a question?

They are both lying down on the bed, watching tv but not really watching it.

Giza: (without looking at him, but knowing that he’s looking at her) I’m watching this.

Roy: What? How? It’s in dutch.

Giza: I know dutch.

Roy: Oh man. How many languages is that now? 4?

Giza: If you count hindi and urdu as the same family, then yeah. Four.

Roy: So you mean five.

Giza: Hey, didn’t want to hurt that male ego of yours. Or is it just called ego? English wasn’t my first language.

Roy starts to say something, realizes that anything he says will only prove her point, and shuts up.

15 minutes later. The tv show Giza was watching - which was just an old rerun of Alex Trebek’s Jeopardy dubbed in dutch - has ended, so she turns it off.

Roy is almost passed out. She throws the remote at him.

Roy: Huh? What happened?

He doesn’t realize she threw a remote at him.

Giza: You said you wanted to ask me a question and then you just passed out in the middle of saying it.

Roy: I did? I’m sorry…

Roy sits up.

Giza: It’s okay. What is it?

Roy: I’m trying to remember.

Giza reaches for the remote.

Giza: Okay, well, let me know when you do…

Roy takes the remote before she can.

Roy: No, no! I remember it.

Giza: Alright. Tell me.

Roy: Well…

He awkwardly tries to sit up to face her, fails a bit because he’s wearing a robe and he’s not able to move correctly without misplacing the fabric is certain places.

Giza giggles. Roy acts like he’s ignoring it but it definitely doesn’t help his no-ego argument that he never started.

Roy: So, and I just want you to know that this isn’t easy for me to say… or ask…

Giza: You’re doing alright so far.

Roy: Hah (not amused). Look. Here’s the thing. (takes a quick deep breath to say it all at once) Have you been seeing other people?

Giza stares at Roy, unfazed by the question. He tries to figure out if she’s angry or guilty, but he can’t tell.

She looks away for a good five seconds, while he continues looking at her and gets a bit nervous, and then when she looks back at him he tries to hide it.

Giza: (emotionless) Why now?

Roy: I just… that’s not an answer. (confused) Did I not set that one up to be a yes or no question?

Giza: Well I want to understand the question, and where it’s coming from, before I can answer.

Roy: You mean before you can figure out how to adjust the truth.

Giza: No. Before I can figure out what kind of truth you’re looking for here.

Roy: Okay. That was… a smart… point. Alright. I’ll tell you what I think because apparently I don’t have a filter available in my brain right now. Must be the detoxing. (pauses) We met, what, six months ago? And since then we’ve seen a lot of each other. Like almost every other weekend. One weekend I come to you, one weekend you come to me, we pick random weekends to meet in the middle somewhere. And it’s been great! I mean, even for a long distance thing...(pauses when he sees her expression not changing) Right?

Giza loosens up the arms that she had in folded position.

Giza: Right.

Roy: Okay. So well. I really love seeing you. And the time we spend together. And I’m very, very happy with that. You’re amazing. We’re fantastic together.

Giza gives a micro smile when he says that. He catches it.

Roy: Right? So I mean, it’s great… just… great…

Roy drifts off in the middle of saying that, because while he was saying that, Giza was moving slightly to pick up her bag from the bedside table, and during that motion, her robe may have moved around to reveal something that distracts Roy.

Giza knows what just happened.

Giza: And?

Roy: (snaps back) Right! Okay, where was I? Yes. Okay, for example. These other kids we go to school with. I mean, these other couples… (realizes he said couple) I mean people… these kids… they can at least stalk each other on Instagram! See who the other one is spending time with. But with you, I have no clue! You don’t take pictures! You don’t have a phone! How can I know where you are?

Giza: You ask me.

Giza says it like she’s answering 2 plus 2.

Roy: I can’t do that via email! Our emails aren’t instant. And almost all of them are just about asking each other which weekend we’re free and who’s coming to whose.

Giza: Who. Who’s coming to who. What I said still doesn’t feel right, but it does sound better than yours.

Roy: You got my point. It’s just… not the same thing.

Giza: Sorry. But... I don’t see how just asking me is worse. You knew this about me the day we met.

Roy: I know that. And I’m not really complaining about… that… it’s just…

Giza: You don’t trust me?

Roy: (surprised, a bit speechless) I…

Giza: Then don’t answer that right now. But tell me this… before I answer your question. Have you seen anyone since we met?

Roy’s facial and bodily stance suddenly changes from confrontational to retreat.

Roy: I… yeah.

If that reply did affect Giza, she doesn’t show it.

Giza: So why does this matter? We like what we are when we are. Why would you want to ask for more when you don’t want more?

Roy: You’re right.

Giza: Always.

Roy: Look, I don’t think this is a trust thing. I’m sorry for hesitating on that one. I do trust you. Even if I still don’t know much about you. I mean... we've never even talked about our families...

Giza: Two parents, still married, only child.

Roy: I... okay, really? Wait... what I mean is... information isn’t what I need to know you. And I guess a part of me… the idiot in me… wanted to ask you because…

Giza: You felt guilty for seeing other people. Or actually, you felt guilty for not feeling that guilty.

Roy: You do seem to know me very well.

Giza: So, what’s the real problem here?

Roy: I guess there isn’t a real problem, but more of a time bomb.

Giza: How so?

Roy: (pauses) I hate not knowing things.

Giza: Ah. And I don’t particularly behave sensitively to information that doesn’t affect how I feel.

Roy: Your words, sweetheart.

Giza: So what do we do?

Roy: Keep at it and figure it out as we go?

Giza: Mute the time bomb? Really? How is that a good idea… ever? The bomb still blows up. Especially now that you've brought it up, it'll be hard to ignore the ticking sound it makes. 

Roy: Uh. Well. So no to that version of that metaphor? I just… I just hope that maybe I can figure out a way for me to not feel like I’m in a state of knowing and not knowing. I mean, sometimes I just feel like that stupid cat that scientist put in a box.

Giza: Schrödinger’s cat?

Roy: Yeah. That… pussy.

Giza: The cat isn’t in a state of existing and not existing. The cat knows exactly where it is and how it is. It’s Schrödinger who doesn't know if the cat is dead or alive unless he opens the box.

Roy: Look, it’s really weird when you womansplain things to me.

Giza: (shocked) How dare you?!

Giza throws the nearest pillow at Roy.

Roy: OUCH!

Giza: Come on. That couldn’t have hurt.

Roy: The remote came with it.

Giza: Oh. Well. Still not sorry.

Roy: So… should I care to know if you have… also… seen other people these past six months?

Giza: I can’t tell you what you should and shouldn’t care about. And I don’t think we should be having this conversation tonight, especially after everything that went down today.

Roy: Look I already apologized for that… didn’t I?

Giza: You… what’s gotten into you? Why are you so out of sync and… all apologetic today? We never talk about this stuff. We never have. That's pretty much the default setting here. And this is good… and this is fun because we don’t talk about what happens when we’re not together…

Giza gets up from the bed, and faces away from Roy.

Giza: Look, we always knew that this would work until it wouldn’t… so…

Roy rushes over to Giza from across the bed, but fails and falls. He snaps back up instantly. Giza turns around when she hears the sound.

Giza: What? Are you okay?

Roy: Yes! Yes. I am. I mean, from that fall, yes. In general, from today, still buffering. But. Listen. Don’t finish that thought. I have an idea.

Giza: Really? Because my thought doesn’t really have a lot left in it, and once it’s out, there isn’t much room for a Q & A afterwards.

Roy: I know. That’s why, I wanna hijack this conversation. Look. (looks at the clock) okay look, it’s not even 8 yet, and I feel a lot better. Physically, at least. And I’m really sorry about earlier. And It’s our last night here. Tomorrow i go back to London and you go back to Madrid...

Giza: Paris, actually.

Roy: (surprised) Really? Why?

Giza: Too many irrelevant questions are happening, and they're only making my point for me. Can you get to your point?

Roy: Okay, sorry, I mean...forget I said sorry. Okay, what I mean is that neither of us knows when we’ll see each other again, with your exams...and Paris, apparently... and my project coming up. So let’s give ourselves a break, and enjoy this night. Okay? Let’s go out, can we?

Giza: You want to go out? Right now? During this…?

Giza motions to the two of them, with ’this’ being the conversation they just had.

Roy: I think “this” needs more… room.

Giza can’t help but like that word play. But she doesn’t show it. Roy is still proud of it.

30 minutes later. 

Roy and Giza walk into a fancy looking restaurant.

Giza: (surprised) Wow, this place… really nice. Did you plan this in advance?

Roy: (without looking at her) Of course not. Totally spontaneous.

Giza: Huh, well, damn. I’m starving.

Hostess: Welcome to Envy, walking in or reservation?

Giza: Walking in.

Hostess: I’m so sorry miss, but we’re reservation-only on weekends. People usually book two to three months in advance.

Giza: Seriously?! Then why did you ask if we were walking in? Just to boast your stupid reservation stats at your pretentious restaurant?

The Hostess pretends to not understand what Giza just said.

Giza obliges and repeats it in dutch.

The Hostess definitely understood it this time.

Roy: Uh. Wait. (to waitress) We do... have a reservation. Two for Roy?

Giza is surprised, punches Roy on his arm by reflex.

Roy: OUCH! You know I’m still in pain, right?

Giza: You deserve it. Look what you made me do! And I told you to stop trying to impress me! Why the fancy restaurant?

The Hostess gives them a greeting with no emotion, and then walks them to their table.

Roy: Hey! I booked this wayyyyy before you said that.

They sit down. The Hostess hands them the menus. It’s hard to tell if she’s always this cold to her customers for effect or because she's actually dead inside.

Giza: Whatever. I’m gonna order.

Hostess: Ah! I see you’ve picked the chef’s choice menu. Your server will be along shortly with your wine and starters. It's a six course meal with a wine pairing for each.

The Hostess swiftly takes the menu back from Giza’s hands, and then gestures for Roy to hand his while giving him a flirtatious smile.

Hostess: (to Roy, as she eyes Giza) Good luck.

The Hostess walks away.

Giza gives Roy a ‘seriously?’ look. Roy gives her an apologetic smile.

Giza: You know I would have been happy with just a burger and beers?

Roy: (reducing his smile) Noted, miss Giza.

30 minutes later. After the fifth course.

Roy: So? Verdict?

Giza: I’m… (smiles) impressed.

Roy: Yes!

Roy starts to take a sip of his wine.

Giza: So this dinner, this is supposed to be the ‘I love you’ dinner, isn’t it?

Roy does a little wine spit take.

Roy: Uhm. What?!

Giza, who was sitting across from him, moves out of her seat, sits next to Roy, very closely, then picks up a cloth napkin, dips it in water, and starts gently wiping the wine Roy just spilled on his shirt.

Giza: You’re not high anymore. You heard me. You brought me to this fancy place, made me dress up all non-fancy, so you could find the right moment to tell me you loved me.

Roy: I… uh.... did I already tell you about the dinner?

Giza: No, but you told me you loved me.

Roy: I… did?

Giza: Yup. Right before you jumped in that freezing cold water. In front of all those people.

Roy: I… well…

Giza looks into Roy’s eyes, the same way she did six months ago in her backyard in London.

Giza: Be honest. It's your best quality.

Roy: I… well… Giza… I… what I was trying to say was… I mean… look, what we talked about before, I’m not saying I want different things. I’m still who I am and you’re still who you are, exactly as we were when we met. And I don’t want that to change. We are who we are... but I also know that how I feel about you is a part of that now. And I know this just adds a new bomb to the mix but... but telling you I love you right now, I’m just telling you what I know. So I don’t want to think about when we see each other next, I just… wanted this night to be specia...

Giza spots a drop of wine right below Roy’s lower lip, and while he’s talking, she slowly licks it off and kisses him in the process.

After about 5 seconds, she retracts her lips.

Giza: I love you too.

Roy: (surprised, from the kiss, and her response) Really?

Giza: Let's not do follow-up questions.

Roy: Got it. (pauses) So what do we do now? I mean, that's a question, but like a general one, a new conversation starting question...

Giza is still distracted, and stares into Roy's eyes. 

Giza: Tick-tock.

Roy: (confused) What? 

Giza snaps back.

Giza: Have you seen the time? This restaurant has a wine bar next door. Let's skip their pretentious little dessert. We're gonna go next door, drink another bottle, and stay away from questions.

Giza gives Roy a kiss on the cheek, gets up, and starts walking away. Roy is still sitting down and processing all of this. Giza turns around to look at him.

Giza: You coming, Roy, lover boy?

To be continued in…

When Roy Met Giza: Bruges

Tick-tock.

Update on October 11, 2017: Bruges is published! Click on the link above to the next part.

Author's Note

Roy and Giza are characters I created in 'The Night After The Wedding' (published April 2016). What you just read is part of a prequel-ish series. This one is technically part two chronologically, but it shouldn't matter which order you read them in. The first one in the series is 'London' (published May 2017). The second one is 'Amsterdam' (published July 2017). The third one is 'Bruges' (published October 2017). And the last one is 'Dresden' (published December 2017).