RAYVIN: FALLING FOR THE WRONG BILLIONAIRE.

CHAPTER FIVE

R A Y V I N

I could barely recognise my apartment after cleaning it up. I think one fact that contributes to unhappiness is an untidy environment. That s**t is so unhealthy. The change of air - smelling more like roses with a hint of mint, made me inhale the air around more deeply than usual. I felt like a different person. So glad I made that decision of cleaning up.

With a box left to unpack so that I can do away with unnecessary stuff and give away the ones I haven't been using, I sat on the floor close to the box. Although I doubt if the latter will take place because I have little and needed even the oldest of my stuff. It was THE BOX. The one I've been avoiding since my father died. I just packed and stored it up in a corner, and stumbling upon it changed everything. With no control, tears began to fall endlessly trailing their way down my cheek, dripping on my chest. I couldn't control myself and so it grew into a catastrophic sob. I haven't gotten myself to accept the fact that my dad was no more. After all these years, I still had this crazy feeling that one day, I will see his strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, beautiful face and slender body standing at the door with a briefcase and say, “kiddo, it has all been a prank. I went to Argentina to do that relief program that I've always wanted doing,” in his deep, calm voice. I don't know if there was relevance in waiting, but I still couldn't get myself to move on.

The truth is, I hid my pain behind getting drunk and staying away from people. That is why, even when I got a terrible and life eating job as that of being an assistant at Carlos & Co., I took the offer and engrossed myself in it without a second thought. I wasn't ready to move on. And I don't think I would ever be ready. I wasn't getting any form of closure, especially knowing that he was murdered, and it got ruled out as suicide. No proper investigation was done. And whenever I tried reopening the case, it gets closed even before anything about it is done.

Slowly and with trembling hands, I opened the box. A happy picture of my dad, myself and Miranda during a fishing trip as kids was the first thing my eyes met. The tears that had once stopped streaming began dropping. I was wailing. Zayvin Hall, the man who taught me everything. From my first riding lesson, first day at school, my worst, and best moments, he was there. Even when I knew it was difficult for him, he still showed up. He exhibited nothing but kindness, love, humility, and care for my sister and me. Gave us everything possible. He made sure that we didn't feel the absence of our mum. But, within a twinkle of an eye, he was taken away from us. From me. Without a reason or an explanation as to why.

“Dad, you didn't deserve to go. You didn't deserve a death like that. I miss you so much. Every single day that passes by, I miss you. You promised to be there for my first kiss. To give me advice on how to handle my relationships. To beat the crab out of any man that plays with our heart. Maybe it is because you are not around that is why men have resulted to playing with our hearts and hurting us a lot” Sobbing uncontrollably, “you even promised to carry our babies. Your grandchildren. You promised me a lot but didn't fulfil any. I don't know what I am doing. Or, the next step to take. I wish you were here. I wish that every single day.” Wiping my eyes with the back of my left hand and running my right fingers through the picture, “I hope you have found peace wherever you are. At least you don't get to hear our nagging. Or, Miranda's bad history with boys. You don't even have to deal with the fact that I am jobless. You won't deal with our mistakes.”

Glancing one last time at the picture, I set it aside beside the box. I took out my old clothes, mails for my father that came after he died, old movies and books that I've not watched or read in a while.

“I can't believe I won't be watching or reading these again,” sobbing.

I finished unpacking and repacking, setting them away for good in the box under my wardrobe where I once hid it. All my wit left me. The happiness and excitement I felt earlier, gone. Why did I open this box? Now I feel so shitty. My nerves felt so weak like I've just finished consuming vodka, red wine and weed combined. f**k!

“Well, that would be all for today. Tomorrow we continue.”

My bed was so calling my name, so I just laid on it at once. There was no need for me to stress myself for anything else. Checking the time, and it was four o'clock. I had already spent the entire day cleaning and washing. It was time to rest. Maybe, I'll spare a few dollars to go grocery shopping and then cook. But now, I have to rest my fine body on this fantastic bed that I've missed so much.

It wasn't even up to thirty seconds of closing my eyes and that annoying beeping came. So persistent.

“What?” I yelled into the phone.

“Hey. Hey. I am not getting any younger than waiting for you. It's past eight, and I've been trying to reach you. I am outside.”

“What are you doing outside my door?”

“Waiting for prince charming, dumbhead Would you please open the door, or I break the door down!” She ended the call.

“So typical of Miranda. Such a handful.”

I got up and walked to the door, twisting my doorknob open, she pushed me to the side. “Out of my way, you.”

“What do you want?”

“Don't give me that crab, Rayvin Hall!” Looking around like she saw a ghost, “am I in the right apartment? Oh, there is that awful sofa.” Touching my face with both hands, “Who is this and what have you done with my sister?”

“It is still me.” I walked back to my bed and slumped on it. I was drained of energy and definitely, I do not want conversations like this. Furthermore, I just want to be alone, in my bed and with my drink. “Go away, Miranda.”

“Hello! Have you forgotten that you were supposed to go out with me by eight? Why are you still dressed in that awful tank top and shorts?”

“I am not going anywhere. Let us do a rain check. Next time.”

“Talk to the hands. You were sounding all happy and excited about getting fired. Sorry, quitting. Why the sudden change of heart. What happened?”

“Nothing. I am just not in the mood.”

“I can't hear you!” She pretended to be screaming before hovering over me on the bed. “Get your fine ass out of this depressing bed!” She dragged me up and pushed me into the bathroom. “Get ready, Rayvin Hall! We have never missed our Friday night out. And it will be an abomination to do so.”

“I hear you, annoying sister,” grumbling.

I took time to wash all the sadness, bitterness, and anger that I felt, trying to put it into I wasn't feeling like going out if not that Miranda would drive me crazy for telling her no, I would very much have rejected the idea.

“Now you look like you still have life left in you. Let us get you something to wear. Something that would make you look less dead.”

“Haha, very funny, Miranda. Very funny.”

“It is not my fault that you've lost your sense of humour.” Walking to my wardrobe, “you still don't have anything sexy to wear except all these cooperate outfits. Maybe I'll turn one of them into a sexy ass killer outfit.”

“Don't even dare!”

“You know I can't hear you. My ears are locked away.”

She starts searching through my wardrobe. One by one, running her fingers through them, showing the disgust she has for some of my clothes and finally, “This is the one!” She screamed.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“I said no, Miranda. I am not wearing that.”

“Okay,” bringing out the clothe despite my disagreement with them.

I've not been one to wear revealing clothes, that is why I don't have so many of them. I like looking decent, comfortable and less attractive. I don't like being the centre of any conversation or gaining attention because of what I am wearing. Miranda had to choose what I stand against of all the clothes in that closet.

“I am uncomfortable, Miranda.”

“That is the essence, love. To make you uncomfortable so that you can get comfortable.”

“What does that even mean, Miranda.”

“I don't even know what that s**t means. Just trying to motivate your ass.”

“You have done it. Yeah, I can see.”

“We should head to a bar and celebrate you getting fired!”

“Really? Miranda, seriously? Celebrate me being jobless?”

“No. No. No. I didn't mean it that way. That wasn't my intention. I just want us to go out and have fun.”

I wasn’t surprised by my sister’s emphatic utterance. Miranda Hall has always been one to speak her mind and look for even the most irrelevant excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I had to grow around it and see it as part of who she was.

“I’m sure drinking the night and being around so many people that don't give a f**k about who you are is a fun idea, sis.”

“Come on, Rayvin.” Miranda sat on my bed, flashing her adorable smile.

Despite the stress of having to be a mother and work as a waitress, she still looked spectacular. Dressed in a turtleneck short black gown that stopped just a little below her thigh, paying it with thigh-high pink gladiator heels.

“I’m not talking about partying away the night or maybe not. Just a glass of wine or two, catching up on what has been happening in our lives and that is it,” he insisted.

“I don’t know if I want to go out. I am not in that mood. I just want to wear my oversized T-shirts with a bowl of popcorn and sat on the floor. Alone. No loud music or judgmental human beings around. Just myself and the comfort of my house.”

“Hey, we can do all that. But, I think you are using it as an excuse to hide behind what you are fighting so hard to accept. I miss you. I miss us. You were always fun, although I've been the lovely one. But, you still have your charms. Go out and have fun! See the beauty of the world.”

“I bet we have plenty of the world to see. In a bar,” I said sarcastically.

In as much I want to still reject this idea, I feel that I need my sister, and she needs me. Let me seize the opportunity and get her off my back. Maybe this would be a good distraction.

“Before you send me to my grave, early, let us go.”

“Yes! That is more like it.”

“Whatever! Better don't make me bloat with alcohol. You know, I don't really exercise.”

“Really exercise? Like you do any work out at all.”

“Hey! Stop it. I stretch and do lots of yoga. Those are exercises.”

Miranda’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. “I hear you,” she mumbled.

“I am only agreeing to this so that I'll get you off my back. After today, I feel it would be better not to see you in my house, talking about going out.”

“I hear you. Cross my heart. I would only come here to drag you out of this place. Don't even think that there is anything that you will say that would stop me from getting you out of his place every Friday.”

“Are you certain that we are related?”

“Related by blood, sperm, and DNA.”

I laughed so hard that Miranda kept staring at me like I had something on my teeth.

“What? Do I have something on my teeth?”

“Your smile is just too amazing. I wish I could see it often”

“Me too,” I muttered.

Blowing a wayward strand of invisible hair off her face, she grinned at me. “I know something that would cheer us up. There is this perfect bar…”

“A bar? That would cheer us up?”

“Young lady, you didn't let me finish. It is not just any bar. It is the bar. Furthermore, it has this wonderful kitchen that cooks sumptuous meals. You will kill for their food.”

“Okay, that sound like something that would cheer me up. But you are buying.”

“Not a problem. I got my cheque today, so I will spare a few bucks, plus the chef there is my friend.”

Sceptical, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation that would turn into a blind date conviction. Taking the flight of stairs down. I smiled at my beautiful sister in her gorgeous dress.

Panting, “how do you manage a place without an elevator. This would kill me before my time.”

“You know that it is the only place I can afford now. Stop making it dramatic, it is not all that bad. You will get used to it when you try it once or twice.”

“I would never get used to those stairs, even if I stay here for a thousand years.”

I simply smiled at her. The moment I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Seattle embraced me, inviting me to just scream into the night. I hope that I don't end up regretting my decision.