Chapter 2
New Living Arrangements
The following morning, Celeste waited outside for Sylvia to show. She saw a brown Ford XLT Wagon pull into the motel parking lot until the vehicle parked near Celeste. Sylvia stepped out of her van and greeted Celeste. Celeste pointed to a purple Ferrari 328. Sylvia swung her head and gasped at the car.
Celeste: “That’s my car. I’ll follow you.”
~
Celeste followed Sylvia’s minivan to her destination. As she followed her, she noticed they were driving through Upper Hill Lane in Papamos where the rich live in Pink Top City. While focusing on the road, Celeste would sneak peeks at the lavish and beautiful homes she passed. She looked ahead and saw that Sylvia was slowing down and making a left-hand turn. Sylvia made the turn and knocked over the mailbox of the homeowners.
Celeste: “Smooth move, ex-lax.”
She muttered. She took a deep breath and parked her car on the curbside. She cut the engine and stepped out of the car, looking at the mansion.
It was an elaborate hacienda-style façade that looked posher than it was. Arched windows and a dramatic portico with scrolled columns gracefully feature in this Mediterranean design. Celeste slowly approached the manor following Sylvia. Sylvia rang the doorbell and the two women waited for someone to answer. A chubby white woman in her forties answered the door. She had blonde highlights in her dark blonde hair, small-framed glasses hanging at the bridge of her nose, and a friendly, welcoming look about her. She was dressed in a one-piece black dress with white trim and a white apron tied at her waist. Sylvia greeted her with a gentle smile.
Sylvia: “Good morning, Shauna! We’re here to see Demetrio.”
Shauna flashed Sylvia a smile and stepped aside to let the two in. The foyer is just as expressive, with more scrolled columns and soft curves to match the arched doorway. Mosaic tiles on the floor and steps bring touches of color and polish to warm brown surfaces.
Shauna beckoned the two to follow her. They did so. This home overflowed with character and detail. Space for entertaining is shared between the dining room and the elegant living room, accented by the zero-corner sliding glass doors, and the casual wet bar. The living room is impressive with its fireplace and built-in shelving. They strode past the kitchen. The kitchen works well with the dinette and its beautiful section of mitered glass. It is a cozy, rustic-looking kitchen with hardwood on nearly every surface and ample seating for quick meals or full banquets.
An enormous family room has a warming fireplace and a built-in entertainment center. Celeste could see the backyard from the window in the kitchen. It is a luxurious back patio with a Japanese rock garden and a reflecting pool.
They ascended the stairs and followed Shauna through the foyer. Down the long, wide foyer were paintings on each side of the wall and two doors on each side with one door at the very end of the foyer. Celeste looked down the other side and saw another door at the south end of the hall. On the right, one of the two doors has a sign on it that says, “Blair’s room. Keep out Radinka.” The other door is blank. On the left, one of the doors is slightly ajar. Celeste could see Radinka at her vanity, slathering on her pancake makeup.
When they reached the end of the hall, Shauna gently knocked on the door.
Shauna: “Mr. Donati, Dr. Hughes, and a young lady are here to see you.”
She called out to him. They heard, “Let them in.” from the other side. Shauna nodded to them and opened the door. She turned around and walked through the corridor, and down the stairs.
Sylvia and Celeste stepped into the office. Demetrio sat in a large black leather chair behind an oak executive desk. The walls were cool gray and the carpet was a darker shade of gray. There were potted palm trees on all four corners of the office. A banker desk lamp, picture frame, ashtray, cigar box, and IBM PS/2 were on the desk. On the wall behind Demetrio was a large oil painting of himself. A large window with white vertical blinds was on the right side of the wall. It had a spectacular view of the background, the ocean, and the city. A large bookcase filled with books covered the left side of the wall.
Demetrio extended his hand to the two leather seats in front of his desk. Sylvia and Celeste sat in them. Celeste was smitten with what she was seeing. She was going to be living here. She had never had a place to call home and she was going to be living in this gorgeous home until her contract expired. Celeste got a better look at the picture on his desk. It was an old photograph—probably taken in the late seventies to early eighties—of himself, a short, chubby blue-haired woman, and a blue-haired teenage boy who looked to be in his teens.
Sylvia cleared her throat and explained to Demetrio why Celeste was there and what she planned to do. Demetrio listens to her, looking unimpressed.
Sylvia: “Demetrio, I don’t know who hired this hit on you, but you worked too hard for this company to let it go to waste. This is why I hired Miss Marcella to be your bodyguard.”
Demetrio’s hands covered his face and then he rubbed his temples.
Demetrio: “Sylvia, I know you mean well, but I don’t need a bodyguard.”
He said exasperatedly.
Demetrio: “I know I’ve succumbed to dementia when I accept protection from a girl.”
Sylvia crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Celeste flashed him a look of fury. Does he know whom he’s talking to? She wondered, trying not to let her anger get the better of her.
Sylvia: “Demetrio, now is NOT the time to be sexist. If you care about yours and Blair’s well-being, you will put your conservative values to one side.”
Sylvia said firmly.
Sylvia: “Think of your grandson.”
She countered. Demetrio rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. He slapped his hands on his thighs and immediately brightened as if he had an idea. He extended his right hand out to Sylvia.
Demetrio: “There’s an idea! She could protect Blair! Blair isn’t going to man up anytime soon!”
He said bitterly. Sylvia drew a breath.
Sylvia: “Well, I suppose it’s a start…”
She said, still not feeling wholly satisfied with his approach to a dire situation.
~
Shauna led Celeste to her bedroom, which is located on the right side of the hall next to Blair’s bedroom. They entered the room and Celeste’s face lit up when she saw where she would be sleeping for the next long while. It is a large, spacious room with a queen-size bed against the wall and two nightstands on each side of the bed. The bed had pinkish-purple dove feather pillows and a neon purple bedspread. The walls were painted lilac and the floor had a mauve sculpted pile carpet. A large window covers most of the right wall with the same view that Demetrio’s office shared. In front of the window were a potted plant, an armchair and an ottoman. A large walk-in closet covered most of the left side of the wall. The bed faced an oak entertainment center with a built-in television. On each side of the entertainment center were two potted palm trees. Next to the right potted palm tree was a door leading to a bathroom that it looked like she was going to share with Blair.
A stocky Cuban man in a butler’s uniform carries Celeste’s luggage upstairs and brings it to her bedroom. Celeste paces around the room admiring it. She was never accustomed to such luxury before. This rendered her speechless.
Sylvia: “Do you like it?”
She asked softly. Celeste grinned like a cat alone with the goldfish in the bowl.
Celeste: “I love it!”
She said breathlessly. Sylvia noted Celeste was smiling and was not sure if she should embrace it or proceed with caution. After all, she was hiring an assassin to protect the very family she holds dear. Sylvia clasped her hands together and managed a strained smile.
Sylvia: “Well, Celeste, I hope you like it here and working for this family.”
She handed Celeste a piece of paper with a number on it. Celeste took it and examined it.
Sylvia: “This is my phone number. Call me should an emergency arise… or perhaps if you need assistance.”
Celeste nodded and stuffed the number away in her purse. She sat on her bed giving Sylvia a look that it was time to go. Sylvia understood.
Sylvia: “I shall take my leave now.”
She turned around and left the room, closing the door behind her.
~
Sylvia ventured down the hall and stood in front of Blair’s bedroom, eager to inform him of the wonderful news. She gently knocked on his door and softly called his name. She heard him say, “Come in” from the other side. Sylvia opened the door and strode in. Blair and a young Japanese man were sitting on the floor in front of his television set playing video games. The young man had a dyed purple mullet with each strand of his bangs streaked with the colors of the rainbow. He is Blair’s best friend, Yoshi Akiyama, the grandson of the owner of The Video and Card Shop. Yoshi is twenty-two years old—one year younger than Blair—and has been Blair’s best friend since he moved to the United States when he was a toddler.
Like Celeste’s room, Blair’s room was a large, spacious bedroom with a queen-size bed against the wall closest to his bedroom door. A Siamese cat and an all-black cat slept on his bed. The walls were painted light blue and the floor had a dark blue sculpted pile carpet. Posters of video game characters, movies, cartoons, and other things Blair enjoyed covered the walls. Covering the right wall was a sliding glass door that led to a balcony. By the window was an oak entertainment center with a built-in television. Below the TV were a VCR and three video game consoles. Video games and movies filled the shelves on each side of the TV. Adjacent to the entertainment center was a large closet and neighboring the closet was the bathroom.
Blair and Yoshi looked over their shoulders and greeted Sylvia.
Blair: “Hi, Sylvia. How do you feel?”
He paused his game and turned around, still sitting on the floor.
Sylvia: “I am doing very well, Blair, thank you for asking.”
She exclaimed joyously and took a deep breath.
Sylvia: “I came to announce to you that due to the recent events and starting today, you have a bodyguard!”
Blair’s face turned a deep shade of red.
Blair: “I-I don’t n-need a bodyguard…”
He murmured and looked away, disgruntled. Yoshi brightened and rose. His eyes were as large as saucers now.
Yoshi: “Awesome! I wish I had a bodyguard! Man, if I had one, chicks would go like, ‘Radical! He has a bodyguard! He must be super famous, super badass, or both! I should ask him out!’”
He exclaimed.
Blair: “Right…”
Blair mumbled, his voice taking on a plaintive note. Sylvia peered at him through placid eyes.
Sylvia: “Well, I insist, Blair. It’s for your own safety. She will be residing with you until this blows over.”
Blair immediately froze when he heard the word “she.” She means to tell him a girl is going to be living here, next to him? Blair had no experience with girls—with anyone. He shivered all over, his face turned a shade redder. Even Yoshi froze. He took this as an opportunity to get the girlfriend he never had. Sylvia smiled compassionately at the two and took this as her cue to leave. She told Blair to call her should trouble arise and immediately left.
Yoshi panicked.
Yoshi: “Oh man, oh man, oh man! Why didn’t you tell me a girl is here?! I look like Hell!”
He breathed and pressed his hands against his temples. Blair rose and faced Yoshi.
Blair: “I didn’t know about this OR ask for this! If people see me with a bodyguard, I will be subjected to more ridicule from Seymour!”
Blair’s expression tightened angrily.
Yoshi: “Why didn’t you tell me a girl is here?! I look like Hell! Gimme a suit!”
He demanded. Blair arched an eyebrow and let out a sigh showing his aggravation.
Blair: “My clothes wouldn’t fit you!”
He snapped, placing his hands on his hips. Yoshi ignored Blair’s remark and began rummaging through his closet. After he found nothing suitable, he dashed out.
Yoshi: “Screw it! I will do with what I have!”
He rushed into the bathroom, ran the water, and splashed it on his hair, raking his fingers through and slicking his hair back. He came out with water dripping down his shirt and face.
Yoshi: “How do I look?!”
He asked excitedly. Blair clicked his tongue.
Blair: “Like Hell! Look, this is a mistake… I can’t have a bodyguard! I have to tell her to leave…”
Blair strode out the door.
Yoshi: “Can she be my bodyguard then?!”
He called out to him.
Blair marched down the hall and knocked on Celeste’s door. He heard a deep, sultry woman’s voice telling him it was open. Blair’s feet felt as if they were glued to the floor. Hearing her voice gave him a good feeling in his stomach. She sounds… sexy, he thought. He swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbed the knob, and slowly turned it opening the door. He saw Celeste sitting at her bed with her suitcases open and her clothes stacked and folded neatly on her bed. Blair gazed at Celeste for a moment. He felt the heat rising to his face, his face turning shades redder. He opened his mouth to speak, but Yoshi shoved him aside. Blair staggered back and grabbed onto the doorframe to maintain his balance.
Yoshi: “Hi, I’m single!”
He blurted out. Celeste arched an eyebrow.
Celeste: “…Hi, single.”
She replied dryly.
Celeste: “What is it?”
Celeste stared at them fiercely. He looked down at his feet.
Blair: “S-S-Sylvia t-tells me that y-y-you’re my b-b-bodyguard…”
His voice trembled. Celeste shrugged dismissively.
Celeste: “Hi, Blair. I’m Celeste Marcella. I guess we had better get used to each other… until the job is done.”
She lifted her chin. Her voice was clear and calm, even if her tone was laced with ice. Blair raked his fingers through his hair, his bottom lip trembling.
Blair: “S-So, uh, y-y-you like it h-here?”
Celeste: “Hell yeah, beats the shitty motel I was at.”
Yoshi: “I’m a single 22-year-old Japanese boy!”
Celeste ignored him.
Celeste: “So it’s you I have to babysit?”
She asked archly. Her words and tone caused Blair to flinch.
Blair: “B-B-Babysit…?”
He echoed.
Celeste: “Yes, some people are targeting your grandfather, but he insisted that you needed the protection, not him.”
Blair: “I-I don’t need protection!”
He snapped back. Celeste shrugged casually, but the intensity of her gaze made his breathing jerk.
Celeste: “It doesn’t matter to me.”
She replied flatly.
Celeste: “Once this job is done, I’m out of here. I honestly couldn’t care less about your welfare.”
She replied frostily. Her razor-sharp words slashed at Blair. His face twisted with scorn.
Yoshi: “I am c-cute…”
Yoshi whimpered. Blair’s stomach muscles clenched, the knots inside pulling tighter. Blair stormed out, seizing Yoshi’s arm and taking him with him.
Yoshi: “C-Call me sometime!”
~
Demetrio began introducing Celeste to his staff. She already met Shauna and learned the butler’s name was Rolando. He introduced her to the pool maintenance man whose name is Yoshi Mizushima. Yoshi is a middle-aged stocky Japanese man. He is dressed in a beige short-sleeved work shirt, navy dungarees, and black sneakers. He introduced the chef, Luigi Ricci. He is a stocky man in a chef’s uniform. Celeste saw Radinka glaring at her, fire and ice filling her eyes.
Demetrio: “So, she’ll be guarding my grandson since the kid never learned to man up.”
He added. The last part made Blair want to curl up and die of embarrassment. His face turned a deep crimson and he averted his eyes.
~
Deimos was asleep, hugging his pillow and moaning Tristan’s name. He snapped his eyes open and sat up as the wind blew through his hair. Deimos looked down and reached over to his nightstand to put his glasses on. His bedroom was a large spacious bedroom. In the center was a queen-sized mate’s bed with a shelf headboard. On the shelves of his headboards were fantasy and horror novels as well as high fantasy décors, such as wizards and dragon statues. Horror movies and heavy metal posters covered his walls and ceilings. He had an oak entertainment center with a TV, NES, VCR, and an Atari. Neighboring the door was a bureau with a mirror and there were a few bottles of his cologne on the surface. The window was beside his entertainment center, overlooking the street. On the far left was a closet with his clothes and shoes. To the far right was his bathroom, which had a walk-in shower, toilet, and sink. His room had a lot of stuff in it, but it was neat and orderly.
Someone knocked on his door. Deimos rose from his bed. His Siamese cat, Misty, rolled over and stretched. Deimos opened the door to a portly, short middle-aged woman. Her hips were wide and she had puffy fingers that looked swollen. She wore her gray hair up in a bun and had a white oval headpiece trimmed with eyelet lace. Her lips were plump and uneven, and her amber eyes seemed in retreat because of her plump cheeks. She was dressed in a long black dress with a white Peter Pan collar and long sleeves with a buttoned cuff and white trim. Over her dress, she wore a white apron with ruffles and lace on the smock with eyelet trim. On her feet, she wore black Victorian boots. She was the maid, Monica Thompson. She came from Anglia to the US and worked as a maid for the Katsaros family since 1969.
Monica: “Young Master Katsaros? Ivy is downstairs and wishes to see you.”
Deimos nodded.
Deimos: “Thank you, Monica. I will be down shortly.”
He said lowly.
~
Deimos descended the stairs to see a white woman standing at five feet and three inches with long, voluminous, fluffy teal ombre hair. She had a pale olive complexion, large brown eyes with long wingtip eyelashes, a round face, full lips, and a button nose. Her figure was curvy with a large bust. She was dressed in a leather jacket, a black criss-cross crop top, a black leather mini-skirt, and black high-heeled boots. She is 22-year-old Ivy Ferraro, Deimos’ partner.
Ivy comes from Selene Valley, Possum State, Australia, and moved to Pink Top City when she was 14-years-old. An architecture company sponsored her father, Fiore Ferraro, to emigrate to the US so he took his wife, Rosemary, and two daughters, Ivy and Lily. Ivy attended Willow High School, a prestigious all-girls school, transferred to Pink Top High in her sophomore year, and graduated from there. She met Larry Wood when she was 16-years-old.
A year later, Ivy met Deimos when he was performing at a gig at the club. The two hit it off and became fast friends due to their love of metal and Deimos being awestruck by her art. A year later, he hired her to do the graphics for Ouro Novo and Anthony hired her to design shirts, logos, and his website for his tickling studio.
A few months before her beloved cat, Freyja, died, Larry proposed to her at a Halloween party. Ivy felt forced into accepting because Larry never asked her if she wanted to marry him but demanded she marry him. She was always miserable with him and hated being engaged to him.
A day before the proposal party, Deimos crashed the party on his motorbike and swept Ivy away from him and the two began dating. Deimos and Ivy have been dating for four years now.
Deimos smiled at her and entered his living room. He entered an immense parlor, decorated in neo-Victorian style and designed to accommodate dozens of guests. The living room was spacious, with a white sectional sofa and an easy chair facing a stylishly engraved coffee table and an inbuilt entertainment center.
The backyard was a luxurious back patio with a huge swimming pool, palm tree gardens, fire pits lit up, and picnic tables for dining, and lounges, all in a climate-controlled enclosure.
Deimos: “Nice to see you after a nap. I’ve been thinking about you.”
Ivy giggled.
Ivy: “I wouldn’t know. You always block your thoughts.”
Deimos kept his smile intact.
Deimos: “Some things need to be kept to myself.”
He said genially.
Ivy: “Are you ever going to open up someday?”
Deimos bowed his head. He put up a barrier to his thoughts.
Deimos: “Maybe.”
He forced a smile.
Ivy: “Is something bothering you?”
She asked him and locked her gaze on him. Deimos put up another thought barrier.
Deimos: “No.”
He lied. Ivy stared down at her lap. What are you thinking, Deimos? I wish you would open up to me, I wish you could read my mind, too, she thought.
Ivy has telepathy; she can read others’ thoughts but no one can read hers unless they are another telepath. Deimos blocked out many thoughts around her and didn’t want her prying into what he was thinking. He stared at their pictures together—when they attended her prom, her at his naturalization ceremony, many dates, anniversaries, and parties. Ivy smiled down at the pictures of them together and everything they had been through together over the years, yet a part of her felt she still didn’t fully know him.
Deimos gazed out the window looking at the vacant street. He gazed at the two-story white southern colonial-style manor across the street. There was a patio on the first floor and a balcony on the second floor. A stone marble fence enclosed the front and back of the house. There was a large fountain to the left of the house with a huge garden and statues surrounding it. Adjacent to the fountain was a weeping willow tree with hanging lanterns. The backyard had a gazebo, a luscious garden, a large koi fishpond, and a section with a wooden beehive where honey was obtained. This was Deimos’ fraternal twin brother’s manor.
Something was covered in a sheet; it appeared to be a tall, thin figure and it was on his brother’s lawn.
Ivy: “I want to make chicken fettuccine alfredo. I got the recipe from my nana.”
She twiddled her thumbs. Deimos looked over his shoulder.
Deimos: “That’s Tristan’s favorite meal… or one of them.”
Deimos noted how Ivy was making chicken fettuccine alfredo when she normally makes fish and Deimos knows Tristan hates fish with some small exceptions, such as beer-battered fish or unagi or shrimp here and there.
Ivy: “Oh… is that so?”
She blushed. Deimos turned to face her.
Deimos: “Uh, yeah. I know what he loves.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Deimos’ thoughts became blocked to her and she couldn’t read them again.
Deimos and Ivy heard something on the lawn and both bolted to the front window.
Deimos: “Tristan?!”
He said eagerly and his smile faded when he saw Celeste on his lawn, kneeling.
Deimos: “Oh, it’s her again.”
He said glumly.
Deimos: “I guess you didn’t leave something out for the stray cat.”
He said dryly to Ivy.
Celeste and Deimos met when Celeste killed someone who attacked Deimos at a nightclub. Celeste wanted money and Deimos couldn’t pay her so she asked for free food for life in exchange for her services.
Deimos and Ivy went out to meet her.
Deimos: “What are you doing here?”
He asked harshly.
Celeste: “What a nice way to greet someone who saved your life.”
She muttered.
Deimos: “That was when I was a teenager. I’m twenty-three now. I fed you for your nine lives.”
He snapped.
Celeste: “I am living with the Donatis now. I’m supposed to be Blair’s bodyguard.”
She added as she was setting up a toy catapult. Deimos gaped at her. Ivy: “You… a bodyguard?”
She gaped at her disbelievingly.
Deimos: “Why? Does he need protection from the likes of Seymour Butts?”
He asked sharply. She shrugged.
Celeste: “Someone tried to kill his grandfather and shot at Sylvia.”
Deimos: “Okay!”
He clasped his hands together.
Deimos: “Since you’re living a life of luxury at the Donatis, you don’t need me to feed you anymore!”
He nodded.
Celeste: “I dunno, I don’t want to look at that mummy while I’m eating or hear Blair whine or about this or that, so I wouldn’t get too excited.”
She said wryly. Deimos hung his head.
Deimos: “What the Hell are you doing with that toy anyway? Going to throw water balloons on Jaclyn?”
He nodded to the catapult. Celeste put a rock in and stomped on it. The rock shot across the street and hit the figure with the sheet.
Tristan walked down the street with Oliver on his leash. Deimos lit up when he saw him. Tristan waved to them. Ivy brightened at him and greeted him with a smile and wave.
Tristan: “Hello, Ivy and Deimos!”
He looked down at Celeste.
Tristan: “And Celeste!”
Celeste: “Hey, Tristan, I heard about your co-worker’s favorite client. Sorry for his loss.”
She frowned. Tristan inhaled sharply.
Tristan: “Your sarcasm is thick as ever!”
He said wryly.
Ivy: “Hey, Tristan, did you try those sleeping pills?”
Tristan: “Oh, the Sominex? The ones you bought me on your walks?”
Deimos: “Sominex? Sleeping pills? What are you talking about?”
He knit his eyebrows.
Ivy: “Oh, Tristan has trouble sleeping and I wanted to help him!”
She explained. Deimos embraced himself. Tristan knit his eyebrows.
Deimos: “Why didn’t you tell me about it, Tristan?”
He asked sadly.
Tristan: “I apologize, Deimos. So much has been on my mind lately. I’m not satisfied with my work environment and I am mulling on starting my own law firm. We discussed this.”
Deimos nodded a bit.
Ivy: “...You’re starting your own law firm?”
Tristan: “Yes! Deimos and I were discussing this for a while. I need to speak with Grand Mère about lending me the funds.”
He explained genially.
Ivy: “Oh… you didn’t tell me…”
She said sadly. Tristan knit his eyebrows. He could tell by her tone, expression, and the vibe she was upset, and she was not the only one.
Tristan: “I’m sorry, Ivy, I have so much on my mind. Forgive me.”
He said beseechingly.
Celeste: “Tristan, did you tell them I lick your sheer-socked feet after work?”
She teased. Tristan, Ivy, and Deimos all glared at her.
Deimos: “Take your shitty ‘jokes’ and shove them!”
He rasped.
Tristan: “Aren’t you the humorous one? Wait, how do you know about my sheer socks?”
He challenged.
Celeste: “Well, I went into Deimos’ house for some cookies and saw you in his studio talking and playing video games with him and he rubbed your feet—”
Tristan put a snowball in her mouth.
Tristan: “Kindly hush!”
He smiled coldly. Ivy’s heart sank.
Ivy: “...Wh-What?”
She swallowed hard, looking at them both.
Tristan: “Would you trust the word of a thief? I think not!”
He laughed and flipped his ponytail.
Deimos: “Yeah, and it doesn’t stop there.”
He grumbled.
Suddenly, a 1959 bright red Cadillac came driving down the road. The car was parked in the driveway of a gray Victorian cottage down the street. It was surrounded by an iron spiked fence and a garden of pink Oleanders bringing the only hint of color to the drab and dark property. A tall, slim white woman with a dyed red a-line bob stepped out of the car. She was dressed in a black dress, stiletto heels, a string of pearls, and a small hat on her head.
It’s that weird lady from the other night, Celeste thought. Ivy read her mind. Celeste knows Jaclyn, she mused.
She was Jaclyn Kovalenko, the girlfriend of Deimos’ brother. She stepped into the house and slammed the door shut.
Celeste: “Why are her curtains always shut? What is she hiding? Is she growing weed?”
Tristan folded his arms over his chest.
Tristan: “Hm, she strikes me as the ‘hoity-toity’ type who wouldn’t grow marijuana. It has to be something more sinister.”
He said grimly.
Deimos: “The bodies of her former lovers who were worth more dead than alive.”
He said evenly. Tristan twisted his mouth. He didn’t want to think she would do that but it’s the likeliest scenario.
Celeste: “Isn’t she dating Lazaros, Deimos? She looks… older.”
They all gaped at her.
Deimos: “She told us she was 23 but I think you’re right—for once.”
~
Man’s voice: “Yes, I’ll be home soon… I’m sorry I took so long. I have to work.”
He heaved an exasperated sigh.
Man’s voice: “No, I’m not having an affair. I can’t possibly have one in between shifts.”
He replied rather snappishly. He was about to reply but he heard a click and the hum of the dial tone. He slammed the receiver in its cradle.
The door of a phone booth on the street in Little Tokyo opened. A young olive-skinned man with very light long, straight blue-black hair angrily marched out and slammed it behind him. He had a lean physique and Greek features. He had a heart-shaped face, and an aquiline nose, and wore oval-shaped glasses. He was dressed in a snazzy royal purple suit that was somehow equal parts chic and tacky. He wore a black dress shirt with white polka dots with a few buttons undone to expose a bit of his bare chest, black leather gloves, and ivory loafers.
He sauntered over to his red Ferrari 512BBi opened the driver’s side and climbed inside the vehicle. He shut the door, drew a breath, and adjusted the rearview mirror. He then slid his keys into the ignition, started the engine, and looked behind his shoulder as he reversed out of the parking lot. He then shifted gears and drove out onto the road. He was about to drive home but noticed the shopfront of The Video and Card shop. My brother loves to shop there, maybe I can get a book for him, he thought. Maybe I can get a cookbook for me to cheer myself up, he thought bitterly.
~
Lazaros got out of the car, climbed up the steps, and entered his house through the French doors. A spacious living room with three cabriole coral couches, one facing the fireplace with a big screen TV mounted on the wall, and the other two facing the other couch. In the center of it was a coffee table with a vase of roses and there was a large beige carpet under the couches. Royal blue silk curtains adorned each window. In between each window were milkglass floral wall lights. The flooring in the dining room and living room was a varnished cedar floor.
Adjacent to the stairs, there was a French entryway to the dining room, which had a long oak table with French oak chairs. Beige and orange tapestries adorned each window and near the French entryway to the kitchen was a baby grand piano. The kitchen was white and bright. The floor was checkered; the cupboards, fridge, counters, and island were white or a pale gray. Fancy French chairs surrounded the island. This is where eating was mostly done. It was only hosted in the dining room for special events. The door in the kitchen led to the gated backyard where there was the barbecue, hot tub, and patio table.
Lazaros: “Sorry, I’m late.”
He held up a box he carried in his arms. Jaclyn bore her cold gaze on him, her steel-gray eyes bore into him.
Jaclyn: “I know! You were cheating on me, weren’t you?!”
She hissed the question.
Lazaros: “No! I wasn’t. I went to the Video and Card shop to buy a cookbook—”
He began.
Jaclyn: “Was it a vegan cookbook?”
Lazaros rolled his eyes and sat down.
Lazaros: “No.”
She turned her head away and her scowl deepened.
Jaclyn: “Whatever! I don’t want it!”
She grumbled.
Lazaros: “I got a French doll.”
He opened the box.
Jaclyn: “I want jewelry.”
She quibbled. She winced when she saw the doll was a baby doll.
Jaclyn: “What message are you sending me, Lazaros?! You want me to get pregnant?! I won’t be strapped down with messy, noisy brats and ruin my perfect figure! You take that doll back! That’s an order!”
She barked, slamming her fists, one onto the other. She swung her steely eyes to Lazaros and met his sad look with fierce anger.
Lazaros: “Jaclyn, I wasn’t sending any such message! It’s a doll and he’s beautiful…”
He began.
Jaclyn: “He?”
She asked the question with cold anger.
Jaclyn: “I don’t want children, ESPECIALLY A BOY! How dare you?!”
She shrieked. Lazaros shrank in his seat.
Lazaros: “Anyway, I might get this job. I’m considering putting the honey my bees make into little mason jars and selling them on the side.”
He said calmly trying to get off the topic and calm Jaclyn down. Jaclyn glowered at him.
Jaclyn: “Well, you can sell your precious honey… That matters more to you than me!”
Lazaros buried his face in his hands.
Lazaros: “What do you want from me, Jaclyn?!”
He cried.
Jaclyn: “I want you to get a better job! You can run your own restaurant with VEGAN FOOD! Then when you do, say I inspired your cooking and meals! And it has to be a formal restaurant! I don’t want bums such as Anthony and his band of hooligans in there!”
She listed it off with her fingers. Lazaros had a forlorn look on his face.
Lazaros: “But I am not a vegan.”
Jaclyn: “Not yet. I will change that.”
She declared with a nod.
Lazaros: “Jaclyn, you’re tearing me apart…”
Tears welled up in his eyes.
Jaclyn: “I’m sorry you feel that way but that’s not how it is.”
She rose and went outside.
Jaclyn saw Deimos across the street with Ivy and Celeste. She smiled at Deimos. She always wanted to court him but if only Deimos were taller. Ivy read her mind and glowered at her. Jaclyn spotted Ivy and rolled her eyes. I will never know what Deimos sees in that green cow, she thought.
Jaclyn: “Greetings, Deimos, I am here to unleash something I had made to make this eyesore of of a house look more presentable.”
She announced.
Deimos: “You’re moving away? Okay, goodbye, and stay gone.”
He hissed.
Jaclyn: “Clearly, Ivy put you up to this.”
She flipped her hair.
Ivy: “I didn’t put him up to anything, Jaclyn! He can think for himself!”
She snapped.
Deimos: “It’s the only way you’d make this neighborhood more presentable.”
He fielded scathingly.
Jaclyn: “Oh, hush, you green cow! Now feast your eyes on a masterpiece!”
She lifted the material off the figure to present a sculpture of herself with the nose broken off from the stone Celeste threw.
Celeste: “Oh, wow, it’s a statue of that weird muppet with the big lips!”
Jaclyn’s jaw dropped.
Jaclyn: “Wh-What?!”
She spun around on her heels and her mouth was ajar. She threw her head back and let out a scream that filled the air.
Jaclyn: “WHO DARED TO SEND ME MY STATUE IN THIS CONDITION!? THIS IS A HIDEOUS LIKENESS OF ME! HOW DARE THEY?!”
She stomped her feet and stormed up the steps to go into Lazaros’ house but found it was locked. Jaclyn pounded on the door.
Jaclyn: “LAZAROS! LET ME IN! YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”
She barked. She huffed and puffed as she paced around the porch.
Jaclyn: “Deimos, are you going to stand there?! DO SOMETHING!”
She demanded.
Deimos: “I want you to leave is what I want.”
He said firmly.
Celeste: “Hey, Jaclyn? Catch!”
She swung at a wasp’s nest with a baseball bat and the nest landed on Jaclyn’s chest knocking her to the ground. Jaclyn caterwauled as a swarm of wasps came out and stung her. Jaclyn flapped her arms and ran away as the insects began viciously attacking her.
Deimos chuckled and smiled in satisfaction at Jaclyn’s demise.
Celeste: “If I keep saving yours and Ivy’s asses, you both keep owing me food!”
She threw her hands up. Ivy hung her head and Deimos groaned.
~
Things have been more awkward since Celeste let it slip she saw Deimos rubbing Tristan’s feet after he played video games at his place. He could have strangled her. Deimos and Ivy were in bed. He looked over at Ivy and sighed. He still cared for her but couldn’t help but feel the spark between them was dying, even Ivy was making Tristan’s favorite dishes and recommending sleeping pills for him. Deimos pouted. I could have recommended a better brand, he thought. Deimos couldn’t sleep. He threw off the sheet, put his glasses on, and rose from the bed. Maybe I will play some video games, he thought.
Deimos went into his studio across from his bedroom. Next to his room was a door that had been locked for seventeen years and no one dared to go in. Deimos entered his studio. It was a large, spacious room with a drumkit, a Yamaha piano, a cat tree, a desk with a computer, an easel, and a couch with a TV across from it. Deimos was going to sit on the couch to play video games until he heard a sound.
Deimos froze turgid in his tracks as he listened to the sound. It was the sound of faint wailing and sobbing. Deimos scurried to the window by the computer desk in the direction where the noise came. He looked next door at Jaclyn’s house. Is she… sobbing?! Deimos thought. The door swung open and slammed shut. He lowered his head so she couldn’t see him. Jaclyn stormed out in anger and stomped to her car. She got in, started it, and sped out of the driveway knocking over her mailbox.
Deimos swallowed hard and slowly lifted his head locking his gaze on her house. He froze when he still heard the sobbing.
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