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ONLY GIRL (IN THE WORLD) PART TWO “Just call me angel of the morning, baby...And slowly turn away from me,” I sing, eyes moving from Saul to George Jr. I can’t help the feeling of utter happiness that spreads over me when Saul grits his teeth. The elevator comes to a halt and both men wait for me to move. I press a button to open the door and step into a small hallway. At the end I see another door, this one with a hand reader identification machine to one side that prevents access to the room. Saul walks in front and George Jr stays by my side as we approach the check-station. I push my palm against the glass. Red lasers scan my fingerprints and I hum music while I wait for the process to finish. The screen flashes green and a bell rings, signaling the scan is complete. The computer displays a smile face on the screen and the door opens to reveal a private entrance to a stage. Empty at the moment, the stage is shaped like half an egg, the ceilings made of a space-shuttle type material. A glass barrier separates the half eggs, the other part shrouded in darkness. When we step onto the stage, the next song begins. ‘It’s Just Me’ “I love this song, George,” I say, closing my eyes for a moment to listen. “I’m aware, you play it like a hundred times a day.” Saul laughs and I frown. I don’t need my men showing each other any solidarity. “I wouldn’t anger me if I were you.” “Me?” Saul says, the laughter stopping. I ignore him and turn to George. “You wanted to see?” He scans the stage, making a mocking ooh and ah at the appropriate intervals. “It looks like a high-tech, futuristic version of an old movie theater. And extremely expensive. Good thing you're a billionaire.” “Yes. Your grandfather spared no expense. This room is impenetrable, safe from FBI devices and spying eyes. Completely secure in every way,” I begin. Holding out my hand to Saul, I wait for him to give me the control pad for the lighting and music. With a smirk, he fetches it and places it in my hand. “Everything is ready,” he says, winking at George Jr. “Glorious,” I say, tapping a few buttons on the remote. Lights and sound fill the auditorium and suddenly the glass wall separating the half-eggs falls away. George Jr sees a large crowd of women screaming with some holding signs, every seat in the room taken. The audience is a seething mass, a chant rising like at a soccer stadium. A buzz passes over the women when I step to the microphone hanging from the ceiling. “Good morning,” I say. The singing and chanting stops and I hear hundreds of individual repetitions of my salutation. “Welcome all citizens of Holden Farms. Today, we will have a trial.” The crowd goes mad with delight and I see the color leave Jr’s face. I tap the microphone and wait for silence. The catcalls and cheers slowly fade until a hush falls over the room. All eyes on me, waiting. I can feel the strain coming from George Jr, but I do not speak. I scan the front row and make eye contact with Ana. She nods to let me know everything is ready. “George,” I say, smiling and turning to face him. “Meet the ladies of Holden Farms. The ones that will decide if you live or if you will die.” ONLY GIRL (IN THE WORLD) PART ONE The song changes to The Police ‘Every Breath You Take’ and I can’t help smiling, even though George Jr frowns at me in a display of petty jealousy. He lurks at my desk reading my journal while I dress and apply my make-up. Since he knows everything about me, there is no point hiding and I allow him to continue reading. The sight of him at my desk, naked, reading a passage about my lost love makes me sigh. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “The song. It makes me sad for Ray,” I say, slipping my feet into gray-suede pumps that match my sky blue sun dress. George Jr changes the song and shrugs, placing the remote on the desk. “What are you doing?” I scream. “You can’t change the order of the playlist.” He laughs and retrieves the remote and starts fumbling through the song list for the one I want. “Just return to the previous track,” I say, grabbing it from him. I find the song again and take a deep breath. This will not ruin my morning. I have too many plans to let him get in the way. “The order is very particular. Please don’t change it again.” Shrugging, he says, “I don’t understand the playlist." “That’s quite apparent,” I say, pushing him off my chair. Grabbing my pen, I try to write my thoughts before the inspiration vanishes. The next song begins and I hear the first chords to a metal favorite: Metallica ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’. “Damn it, the order got jumbled because you messed with it. Don’t touch my fucking things.” He laughs and laughs, which serves to anger me more, heat spreading over my face. Clicking the pause button, I stop writing and wait for silence. His laughter weakens and evaporates, his eyes touching me in intense ways. “I don’t mean to mock you. What song was supposed to be next?” he asks. I think he might be serious, but he winks and the anger rises once again. “’Landslide’,” I say. Tapping a few buttons, I reset the playlist and find his eyes as “’Only Girl (in the world)’ begins to play. He listens and shakes his head, “I never liked this song. Is there any chance you can change it. Why this song?” “Have you ever listened to the words? Are you really that dense? It’s hard to believe you are related to George.” His shoulders tense and I see cold hate in his eyes, which pulses at me in waves. What did I just say that touched that place inside him? “Make me understand.” “I think it’s time to show you. Dress and be quick about it.” After a long pause he begins to put on his tuxedo, eyes never leaving mine. Looking around, his eyes show uncertainty and I see confusion on his face. “Don’t think, I will show you.” Leading him from the room, I follow the secret passage to the library. Approaching the bar, I press a button hidden near the beer taps. The door behind the bar disappears and we enter a dark entryway. When the door swings shut lights illuminate an elevator a few feet ahead. “I thought you were going to show me the kill. Why are we going away from your bedroom?” “Be quiet.” The elevator door opens and Saul waits inside. George Jr flinches at the sight of him and I smile. The fun begins. Post by Ella Thomas. Post by Ella Thomas. #SerialPlaylist - Forrest Day - "It's Just Me" Live at 9th Street Opus Studios, Berkeley, CA8/10/2014 NINE DAYS I wait for inspiration, letting the music wash my brain of frustration and failure. Closing my eyes, I recline the chair and drift deep inside. Pictures of Ray line the walls of my mind, a constant reminder of what I do not have and what I lost. Ten years have gone and nothing changes. My father haunts my dreams and the man that pulled me from the fire is a flickering memory. The many attempts I've made to find the truth have been futile. Nobody, not even George, wants to tell me what happened to him. Did he die in a terrorist incident? Did he commit suicide? So many rumors, almost no fact. Opening my eyes, I lock onto the notebook on the desk. The purple bookmark hangs over the edge and I run my finger along the soft fabric. Looking at the cover, the title brings a sudden rush of emotion. Preface to a Suicide I have read the words so many times I could write this book from memory. Every page is a picture from those nine days we knew each other. It seems like such a short span of time when I see it in print - nine days. How can it be that we only had nine days? Father took what he pleased for almost three years, but the Gods gave me less than two weeks of happiness. Take your Gods, I don't need them anymore. Ana enters the bedroom and I remove the headphones. No matter how sour my mood, I can't help smiling when I see her. Dark, thick hair and intense coal-black eyes of a rare beauty, she walks towards me wearing only a white silk robe dotted with pink flowers. "Why are you awake?" I ask. "The market is closed today, why get up this early?" "I heard the music and wanted to see how your doing," she says, caressing my hair and kissing me on a cheek. "You've been so sad lately. I wish you would smile more often." Sighing, I enjoy the touch of her hand against my skin and wish I could be happy. But, everything I ever wanted was ripped from my grasp and shattered on the concrete hell of my life. Ana pushes the bowl into my hand and kisses my cheek again. "Smoke," she says, changing the song on the stereo before wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "And tell me what you want done with your new friend from the bar." The thought makes me smile. What do I want done to him? Now that you ask, let me think on that a moment. I take a deep hit, enjoying the lightness that swims in my brain. Letting the music take me, I slide deeper and deeper within myself, only aware of Ana's touch and the sadness of Pink Floyd. |
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