Venice; Money Heist

HOUR 26 OF THE HEIST

All I can hear is my heartbeat, deafeningly loud, ringing in my ears. I stare blankly at my brother and Tokyo before I turn around and leave the room. Helsinki tries to stop me, but I push his hand away. Whatever happened in the last five minutes has changed everything. I feel suffocated; not only has the person I thought I liked more than just a friend allowed my little brother to be beaten up, but one of the people I counted among my closest friends in these few months has followed the order and then aimed a crappy weapon at me, even though I didn't shoot anyone or intend to. On top of that, my stupid brother had to ignore every piece of advice I gave him and completely changed not only his life but mine too. And the worst part of it all? I understand why Berlin and the others are angry at him, because I am too. At the same time, I won't let anything happen to Rio if I can prevent it.

As soon as I enter the hall with the hostages, Nairobi looks at me questioningly, but I can't focus on that. I'm too busy trying to figure out how to do damage control. They have our names... But before I can even gather a clear thought, a gunshot rings out from the bathrooms.

Hour 26 OF THE HEIST

The hostages start screaming, asking what that was, but Nairobi just tells them to be quiet. "Calm down. God damn it. Calm down, pull yourselves together, if you ever want to get out of here alive, all right? Just grow a pair already," she says. We look at each other. "Where's Denver?" But before anyone can answer my question, a second shot rings out. I look at Berlin, who stands motionless, scanning the area before heading towards the stairs leading to the bathrooms. I follow him at a distance. Why is he walking so creepily slowly? Does he know what's going on? The Professor didn't tell me about any plan that was supposed to happen at this time, and we already have enough problems at the moment. He stops in front of a bathroom door and is about to open it when I stand next to him, looking at him questioningly. He just gestures for me to be quiet and whispers almost too softly, "Shh, you've been through enough today." Then he opens the door. I try to peek past him, but he blocks my view with his back.

"Two gunshots... are you a bad shot or do blondes make you nervous?" Confused, I furrow my eyebrows, but when he steps into the room, I see Denver casually letting Monica Gastambide's leg fall to the side, gun in hand and blood spatters on his overalls. "It's not easy if she's on her knees, begging you not to kill her." My heart skips a beat, and the annoying pounding in my ears returns. "Why didn't you kill her yourself?" He grabs Berlin by the collar of his overalls but then lets him go. "You're a fucking bastard. You don't want blood on your hands but it's fine on mine."

"If you ever put your hands on me again, you're dead." Berlin walks past Denver, causing the latter to look behind him. When our eyes meet, he goes pale, panic spreading across his face. I purse my lips, trying everything not to start crying. Why does everything have to happen all at once? Why do I always encounter psychopaths or morons? Why can't I have decent people in my life, whether friends or in love? The only one keeping me somewhat together is Nairobi.

I turn around, intending to leave the room, but Denver grabs my hand to stop me. I look down at our hands and pull mine away as my breathing becomes heavier. Without another glance at the scene behind me, I head back towards the hostages, my gaze fixed on the back of my hand, where Denver's bloody handprint remains. "Pull yourself together, Venice. She's not the first dead person you've seen, and he's not the first murderer," I tell myself, taking deep breaths as I lean against a wall. "But he's the first murderer you feel something for." I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing. A few minutes later, I descend the stairs into the hall and stand numbly with my hand on the gun in front of the hostages. Helsinki approaches me, wanting to talk, but I ignore him and stare blankly at the hostages. Nairobi comes over and places a reassuring hand on my elbow. Our eyes meet, and she silently asks if everything is okay. Numbly, I reply, "Later," and redirect my gaze to the hostages in front of us.