Broken Wings, Strong Heart

As I enter our apartment, my roommate, still in her pajamas, asks, “So what happened? Did you get it?” She’s lounging on the couch with a book in her hands and glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. I sigh and close the door, dropping my slightly worn-out leather bag on the chair beside me and hanging my knit sweater above it, along with the keys to the car I borrowed from my best friend. “No,” I tell her, lifting her legs up and placing them over mine as I take a seat beside her. She sighs and sets her book and glasses on the coffee table within arm’s reach. “I told you before you left to lose the wig and cover up the scar, not the mole on your face,” she says pointedly. “That can’t be the reason they didn’t hire me,” I resist the urge to roll my eyes and throw my foot up on the coffee table. “You know I love you and consider you a sister,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Yeah,” I smile, but still look at her weirdly. “It is the reason; trust me, nobody wants someone with a scar on their face, especially one like yours, no offense, to work for their company. It’s going to scare away customers.” I gasp. “Offense taken. Besides, why aren’t you at work instead of sitting here in your messy bun and pajamas reading?” “I didn’t feel like going,” she shrugs. “But we’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you, and you should listen to me and cover your scar with makeup, not the mole. Honestly, you can’t tell me you learned to do makeup just two months ago to hide that mole.” I grin slightly. “We’re not talking about me; we’re talking about both of us,” she says. “And let me point out that you can’t just not go to work because you feel like it.” “I can and will, and it’s not like I’m going to get fired,” she grins wickedly. “You think that?” I slap her knee. “You mean I know because my dad won’t fire me.” “That doesn’t mean he won’t fire you just because he owns the company, and let me remind you that your dad did fire your sister,” I point out. “Hey!” she shouts. “Do not compare me with my sister. She stole money from the company for personal reasons, like shopping and spending it on men.” “Tomato, tomato,” I reply. She narrows her eyes and points at me. “I don’t do that.” I smile. “I know you don’t.” She huffs and folds her arms across her chest just as our other roommate walks into the apartment. “Why are you home?” both June and I say in unison. He sighs. “I told you to stop saying the same thing at the same time. You’re freaking me out!” “So why are you home?” we say it again in sync. He rolls his eyes and flops onto the single sofa facing us from the right. “Because I have no inspiration. I feel creatively inert.” “I believe the word you’re looking for is uncreative,” I point out. “Wait, does that mean creativeless isn’t a word?” June asks, pondering over the word, while I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the two of them. It’s always been this way since I’ve known them. I’ve always been puzzled by how June manages to run her dad’s business and how Josh became a fashion designer despite their higher education than mine. June is a young and ambitious woman, had taken over her father’s business, and Josh, a fashionable and trendy guy, had made a name for himself in the fashion industry. I, on the other hand, was still trying to figure out my own path. “Creativeless is definitely not a word, June. I don’t know how you ever thought it was,” I said, trying to suppress a smile. Josh couldn’t help but laugh at June’s mistake, but he quickly composed himself and came to her defense. “It means that the word doesn’t exist because it can never be created in the first place. There is no such thing as ‘creativeless,’ because everything has some sort of creativity in it, even if it’s small or hidden from plain sight. That is why the word cannot be created because there are infinite possibilities of what could make up its definition.” June seemed deep in thought, processing Josh’s explanation. After a few moments of silence, she nodded her head in understanding. “I see! So just like how love can’t be defined but we all know what it feels like, creativity can’t really be described either, but we kind of understand what it means.” Josh beamed at her, clearly pleased with her response. “Exactly! So what do you think? Are you up for trying to create something without any creativity?” June and Josh’s banter had managed to lighten the mood in the room, and I found myself feeling more relaxed and engaged in the conversation. Their effortless and easygoing rapport was infectious, and I felt lucky to be a part of it. “Wait, what?” exclaimed June, her eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re the one who uses the word ‘creativeless,’ not me. How did this conversation even start with me?” She paused, her lips pursed in thought before finally shaking her head in frustration. “I swear, I told you to stop with this nonsense. You guys are going to drive me insane one of these days!” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the familiar banter between June and Josh. Despite being 22 years old, it seemed like nothing had changed since the days we first met ten years ago. Interrupting their argument, June suddenly leapt up from her seat and spun around excitedly. “Anyway, you guys didn’t forget about my parents’ 20th anniversary tonight, did you?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice. Josh threw his hands up in a dramatic gesture, tilting his head to the side as he rolled his eyes. “Girl, please. Of course we didn’t forget.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, I couldn’t help but shoot him a pointed look. “You sound like a stereotypical gay man,” I teased, earning a playful shove from Josh. As it turned out, I was the one who had forgotten about the anniversary party. June’s expression turned to one of disappointment as Josh tattled on me. Both of them glared at me, but I knew I couldn’t make excuses for my forgetfulness. “I’m sorry,” I sighed, feeling guilty. “I’ve had a lot going on lately, and I’ve been looking for a new job since I got fired from my last one.” June and Josh must have sensed my distress because they both came over to comfort me, wrapping their arms around me in a warm embrace. But I didn’t want to bring down the mood, so I quickly stood up and exclaimed, “Alright, enough of this moping! Let’s get ready to party!” June and Josh exchanged a knowing glance before joining me in the pursuit of getting ready. With only an hour and a half left until the party, I knew it would take them both at least three hours to get dressed. But I couldn’t wait to celebrate with our closest friends and family, and I hoped that tonight would be a memorable one for June’s parents. ~~~ I strode into Josh’s room just as he carelessly flung his tie onto the bed, deftly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his tattoo. With practiced ease, he rolled up his sleeves, causing the inked artwork to peek out from beneath his skin. Standing behind him and peering over his shoulder into the mirror, I watched with a mischievous grin. “Well, well, well, don’t you clean up nice, Mr. Joker?” I teased, my voice laced with playful admiration. Josh’s laughter was a deep, rich rumble, like velvet, as he turned to face me. His emerald green hair shone like a beacon against the soft light of the room. “Mr. Joker?” he repeated, his lips curving into a playful smirk. I rolled my eyes, flicking a stray lock of hair of his hair. “I mean, this morning you came home with pink hair, and now you have green,” I said with a chuckle, admiring the way his hair was slicked back to reveal his striking undercut. His tattoo, a masterpiece of inked artistry, was on full display behind his ear. As I reached out to touch his hair again, he swatted my hand away with a mock scowl. But then, with a tender gesture, he smoothed the area I had touched. In that moment, I knew that Josh was more than just a pretty face with an array of colorful hairstyles and tattoos. He was a complex and fascinating enigma, a puzzle waiting to be solved. “It’s how I express the creativity within myself,” he says, pushing his hands into his pockets and striking a pose as he admires his reflection. “You have too much of those washout hair color sprays for your own good,” I tease. “I do,” he admits with a chuckle. As June walks through the door of Josh’s room, he can’t help but fan himself and exclaim, “Damn mama, you look hot!” “Agreed,” I chime in, checking her out. She’s wearing a stunning sequin dress in shades of orange that hugs her curves and falls elegantly to the floor. The dress features a daring slit up the right side, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her toned leg, and a deep plunge that shows off her assets to perfection. The dress looks absolutely amazing against her beautiful brown skin. Her hair is perfectly styled, slicked back and straightened to rest just above her shoulders. As for me, I feel a little underdressed compared to the others, unsure of what to wear as I watch them all dolled up. “Why aren’t you dressed, missy?” Josh playfully c***s his hip and places his hand on it, teasing me. Oh, I have discovered the perfect dress for you!” exclaimed June with infectious enthusiasm, seizing my hands and pulling me towards her boudoir. With an air of confident determination, she began her search among the racks of her meticulously curated wardrobe, carefully combing through her selected pieces until finally unearthing the treasure she had been seeking. With a radiant grin, she held up the dress before me, turning slowly to showcase it from every angle. The dress was a masterpiece of design, a harmonious blend of elegance and simplicity that perfectly matched my personal style. My heart raced with excitement as June handed it to me, pressing it gently against my chest. “I can see how much you adore it,” she said, gazing into my stormy grey eyes with a knowing smile. Grateful and elated, I thanked her and scurried off to try on the dress. As I slipped it over my head and gazed at myself in the mirror, I knew that I had found the perfect outfit to elevate my beauty to its fullest potential. Emerging from the dressing room, I saw June’s eyes widen in admiration, and I felt a sense of pride in knowing that I had made her proud. ~~~~~ My eyes sweep across the room, taking in the opulence and grandeur of the event. The decor is stunning, with crystal chandeliers casting a soft, warm glow over everything. The guests are dressed in their finest attire, adorned with diamonds and pearls that glisten in the light. It’s a crowd of the elite, and I can’t help but feel a bit out of place. I force a smile, trying to blend in with the high society socialites around me. Some of them acknowledge me with a polite smile, while others don’t even spare me a glance. It’s easy to see that I don’t belong in their world of luxury and extravagance. But despite feeling like a fish out of water, I remind myself of my mother’s teachings - to always be kind and smile at everyone. So I continue to smile warmly at those around me, hoping to spread a little bit of joy in this sea of wealth and privilege. As I scan the crowd, my eyes dart towards the entrance, searching for my two best friends, Josh and June. They’re the only reason I’m here - I would never have been able to attend such an exclusive event otherwise. I stand alone in the corner, sipping on champagne, trying to keep my distance from the temptation of the decadent buffet table. But my gaze keeps drifting towards the chocolate treats that are calling out to me. As much as I love chocolate, I know that it’s not always kind to my stomach. The rich cocoa powder causes me to bloat and feel uncomfortable, not to mention the sugar high that sends me tripping over my own feet. I sigh and take another sip of champagne, watching as the guests mingle and chat amongst themselves. Despite feeling like an outsider, I can’t help but feel grateful for this experience. It’s not every day that I get to rub shoulders with the wealthy and famous. I rise from my seat, leaving the alluring buffet table behind. My mind is still consumed by the thought of chocolate, so I inhale a deep breath and finish off my champagne in one swift gulp. Placing the empty glass on the table, I set off in search of my two companions. With each step, I try to exude confidence, hoping to blend in with the elite crowd. As I saunter across the lavish hall, my eyes scan the room for Josh and June. Suddenly, a familiar voice rings out, “Scar!” It’s June, accompanied by her parents and a couple I don’t recognize. The man has his arms wrapped around his wife’s waist, and they both radiate power and opulence. I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy. I approach them, feigning poise and elegance. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Havenglow,” I greet them with a warm hug before settling down next to June. She introduces me to the couple, and I can’t help but recognize their names. They’re none other than Mr. Constantine and Mrs. Antoinette Jouvempes, the only ones from Formonix. Antoinette’s ivory dress clings to her curves, and her caramel locks are elegantly styled into a simple updo, framing her oval-shaped face. She exudes effortless grace and sophistication, while her husband looks equally polished with his sleek brushed-back hair. I can’t help but feel out of my depth as I stand beside them, still in awe of their sheer presence. As one steps into the realm of Formonix, it’s impossible not to feel the palpable aura of luxury, exclusivity, and opulence that pervades every aspect of the company. Founded by the illustrious Mr. and Mrs. Jouvempes, their business ethos is defined by an unwavering commitment to premium quality and premium prices. No expense is spared when it comes to sourcing and curating the products that Formonix offers. From exquisite high-fashion clothing and accessories to the finest yachts, top-of-the-line automobiles, lavish homes and estates, and even their own sprawling vineyard, the Jouvempes have truly left no stone unturned in their pursuit of magnificence. Indeed, if one were to search for the definition of “rich” in the dictionary, the Jouvempes’ name would undoubtedly be listed. Their empire spans the globe, with stores in every corner of the world, each one a glittering temple to their exceptional taste and unparalleled standards. And then there’s their son, the most eligible bachelor in all the land. With his dashing good looks and effortless charm, he has become something of a legend in his own right. Every girl in society dreams of being his partner, although perhaps not every girl can meet the high bar he has set for himself. But who can blame him? When your family is synonymous with the very concept of luxury, settling for anything less would be unthinkable. “Here you guys are,” Josh slurs, stumbling between June and me and throwing his arms around us. The stench of alcohol emanates from him, and his hair is disheveled, clothes slightly askew. June hugs him back, but I remain motionless, arms crossed protectively over my chest. Suddenly, Joshua withdraws his arm, attempting to fix himself as his parents approach. They despise alcohol, and any mention of it will not go down well. Josh’s parents are wealthy, and their reputation is everything to them. They’ve gone to great lengths to conceal a past incident that involved Josh and alcohol, even going as far as to bribe the police and high authorities to keep the story under wraps. It’s clear that Josh’s parents have strict rules when it comes to drinking and partying, which they enforce on their adult son. However, it only pushes Josh to indulge in secret. In my opinion, it’s wrong for parents to impose their rules on their grown children, as it often leads to more rebellious and dangerous behavior. I’ve seen Josh struggle with the weight of his parents’ expectations, and it’s not a pretty sight. I hope one day he’ll be able to break free from their grasp and make his own decisions. “Josh,” his mother scolds, her voice stern as she fixes her piercing blue eyes on him. He forces a smile before looking down and letting out a long sigh. It’s clear that he’s unhappy with the tight leash his parents have him on, but he seems resigned to his fate. I’ve never been fond of Josh’s parents, and I haven’t bothered to remember their names since I first met them. It’s a point of pride for me, for some reason. As Mrs. Antoinette introduces her youngest son to the crowd, I can’t help but notice the waiters passing by with trays of champagne. While Mrs. Antoinette asks her son where his brother is, I grab a glass of champagne and down it in one gulp. Josh absentmindedly takes one as well, clearly lost in thought. The opulence and extravagance of the event are suffocating, and it’s easy to see how the elite can forget about the struggles of those less fortunate. Feeling suffocated, I decide to excuse myself and head to the balcony for some fresh air. “Hey,” I whisper to June and Josh, leaning in close. “I’m going to step out for a bit.” They nod in understanding, and I make a beeline for the balcony a few feet away. As I step out of the crowded room and into the crisp night air, a shiver runs down my spine, and I can’t help but let out a deep sigh. The chilly breeze caresses my cheeks, and I close my eyes to savor the refreshing sensation. Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I gaze up at the sky, which is adorned with an endless array of twinkling stars that seem to dance and twirl to an invisible melody. The contrast between the bustling party and the serene stillness of the night is striking, and I revel in the peacefulness of this moment. Inhaling deeply, I fill my lungs with the cool, clean air, allowing it to invigorate my senses and clear my mind. But as I stand there, lost in contemplation, a sudden chill runs down my spine, and a prickling sensation creeps up the back of my neck. My heart skips a beat as I slowly turn around to see who’s behind me, only to find a figure standing silently in the shadows, their features obscured by the darkness. A sense of unease washes over me as I realize that I’m not alone in this isolated corner of the night.