The beginning to a book I forgot about.

by cerissadival

Written November 13th, 2013. Unedited.

“Charlotte,” Lucy’s voice sang. She had a voice that danced with a ring and vibrant colors when she spoke. “Could you please be a doll and pass me the paints.” Paints were not actually paints in her head, she was referring to her makeup. She thought of a person’s face as clean canvas and the makeup that crowned her beauty were lavishing paints that created more than just a picture but created a story.Charlotte always had a peculiar way of thinking, maybe thats why she was liked so much. She carried a voice so rich in sound and ease, it’s almost as if you knew you could trust her without knowing her name. She nurtured elegance. As she rummaged through beat up antique brushes and tampered creamy eye-shadows with a concerned look, I focused on her as if she was an important study. “Where on earth did I place daydream rouge?” Her favorite shade. She was becoming flustered and her skin gathered a natural pink to the small wrinkles that laid across her forehead. I couldn’t help but laugh. She snapped her neck up so her eyes would meet mine and before she could shame me for laughing, we both paused, studying eachother’s expressions. One eyebrow raised, a smirk and crossed arms, I sat back into the pure vanilla coaches that hugged the far wall and waited for her reaction. The frustration drained from her face as her shoulders collapsed upon themselves and her body fell loose. “I’m sorry Charlotte” she managed to slip from her ruby pressed lips as she made her way over to my side. My urge to laugh at her dramatic performance grew and burst inside the heart of my stomach. She couldn’t help but join me. I clutched my stomach over my bent knees that sat neatly folded next to me with my arm bent at  the elbow that rested upon the arm of the chair. My fingers fell over the surface of my cheek,one finger pressed against my jaw line while the others scattered over my skin. My freshly,red painted nails stood out like roses in an winter’s aching field. She laid her head in my lap and with her eyes she considered what the ceiling had to offer her imagination. “Where did the time go Charollete,where did my restlessness escape to?” I ran my thin fingers through the dark roots of her hair and looked down at her complexion that seemed to be suffering that was greater than me. Something I could not piece together. Lucy Jacobs  was never one to show ungreatfulness or sorrow. “My dear, you are nothing but grace, You just let your demons get the best of you” I responded to her while continuously petting her head. “They never sleep,” she said with the clench of her fists, the whitening of her knuckles and the tightening of her jaw. “never” she finished with a whisper. It seemed as if it had hurt her heart to murmur such a word.I felt as if years had flashed by in just those very moments. As if through the young of her body shined aging. Shined “brittle”. I opened my mouth but not a word danced away from my lips. Silence. She shook her head and kept her eyes shut while she told me of the many wonders she used to be capable of. “What have I become?” But without thinking I grabbed her hand that rested upon her hip and said “Lucy, you are one hell of a girl and damn me god if I am wrong” I fiercely said. She seemed not startled by the tone of my voice but satisfied . The grip of a smile took hold of her lips and smooth dimples formed at the centers of her icy skin. “Thank you my dear, that’ll be all for today’s entertainment” We both laughed, more her than me. “You are so wise Charlie Bella, so very wise” She hadn’t called me by the name of Charlie in years. Bella was my mother’s name. A name that represented the rich and bright expectations of her children and her wealth. Wealth. The voice inside my head spit the word like dirt. What was it’s meaning? What was the purpose of wealth? Did it show success, or did it show greed? The click of the radio buzzed to life and kicked out a tune that made Lucy’s feet tingle. She was going to dance, which I enjoyed but if she were going to dance that meant I were to join her. Before she could ask, I grabbed her hand and whisked her up and into the air. Perfectly landing on her feet, the pop of her toes and the away of her arms showed the true figure of her body. She had the posture of a model and her body stretched out in all directions. She was long, extremely thin and beautiful. She was loved. Lucy Jacob’s was not a nobody. Attention followed her every move and the steady minds of the people fell at her feet. She was never snobby and rarely expressed things that upset her. I was the only one who ever heard of the troubles. She had a love for sunglasses, long socks, white gloves, warm cups of cider and snow. Lucy Jacob’s danced more beautifully than other being in New York City. There was a certain song the stage whispered that only her feet could translate. She had a flirt personality that could drag anyone in to her, I often caught myself in the act of it. She was good at her game. She was good. Always good.

I couldn’t place where I was. Although the same ceiling,the same bed embraced my raw face every morning, I could never place where I truly belonged to. Mornings were minute mysteries in which I would investigate my surroundings in order to give a name to my location. I was home. My eyes flickered to life and my body let out a waking groan. My bones cracked to life and color filled the filaments of my eyes. I lived on the 13th floor of the French Holladay Hotel. It was loud but with a steady mind and a few glasses of wine it was as quiet as the country side. My apartment was nothing fancy. I worked hard for my profit and everything that came out of it. I always had a love for old, wooden floors and white windows with vanilla curtains. Before venturing to the city, I knew I needed three things. One, I need to find who I was, I needed to find the meaning or story to my name. Two, I needed to find my purpose or what use I was to the world; what challenges could I face? Three, I needed a comfortable apartment with white windows, vanilla curtains and wooden floors. The word was so pleasant. Vanilla. It ran so beautifully with the sound it made. It’s pronounciation seemed so calming to me, and it’s scent wrapped me in a welcoming daze. My feet kissed the floors and left echoing creeks behind every step. I found that mornings were more bareable if you awoke with tea instead of coffee. “Tea ties ribbons around the bones that need it most and mends any ruptures of the skin if you let it. Coffee will spike your pain and false personality with just a drop on your tongue.” Mother repeated every morning while mixing one and just one packet of sugar in her steaming flavored water. As a child I was mesmerized by the dance of the steam that had a new routine for every cup of tea. Twirling,moving and realsing such beauty that was quiet and radiant in it’s own way. The kitchen was large and very open to the rest of my apartment. No door or wall separated it’s exsticece and I seemed to favor my liking to this. With the yank of a handle, the silverware drawer crept open with a squeak and the sun’s light hugged their bodies with white glares. I thought of spoons as the ladies, full of grace and simplicity. Forks were mighty, were the mighty warriors who wanted to defend their ladies honor at all times. Knives were the the jokers, the boys who wore funny hats like the ones you found in the deck of cards and threw to the side. I pulled out a spoon and plopped it beside my vibrant yellow cup. The color was obnoxious but I liked this. Things that bothered me always seemed to rob me of my thinking and I liked this. The cup was one of my favorites. As I searched through the messy container of various tea bags I’ve seemed to have horded over the years, a silent  knock at the door ran throughout the walls of the apartment. “Room service” said the strangely forced,high pitched voice. I couldn’t help but laugh, Riley was such a character of his own fairy tale. “Oh come on I hear that cute giggle of yours, I’m coming in” he said. He murmured short sentences that trailed off as he walked through the door and observed everything fairly quickly. “Yes..oh my..Charlotte Jay where has all your mother’s lessons escaped to..” “Oh no no..that shouldn’t be placed here.. I like this color.. I smell sweetness..” He continued. “Riley it’s too early for this, come in,sit down and steady yourself, would you like a cup of..” “Two packets of sugar and one teaspoon of pepper, he responded almost instantly. “Adds a bit of a kick don’t you think?” as he said with a wink of his grey-blue eyes and long lashes. “You sure got a touch to you kid, I wouldn’t do this for just any other Riley Bean” I said jokingly with a few interruptions of my laughter. “Well of course, there is in fact only one Riley Bean” he responded with emphasis on the word one and capped it off with another one of his famous winks. Riley was different. He understood what I felt before I could even open my mouth. He had such a spark to his appearance, as if his pink and gold suits didn’t make him pop enough. His personality was always burning, looking to build off of the happiness he sprouted in other people’s cheek bones. The spoon grew warm as I stirred in a slow motion, switching directions and causing a spindle at the center of the cup. Riley had taken a seat right across from me at the island counter. I stood on one side while he watched me carefully, as if I was an experiment of his own. After glancing up a few times to catch his eye I finally stopped stirring,placed both arms on the counter, laid back a bit and said “what” in a sharp tone that came out louder than expected. Now focusing on him I realized he was not staring at me no longer, it was the cup. Slow moving his eyes from the cup to mine,focusing on everything in between he said “How’s Lucy, dear?” cocking his head on the last word, as if I had done something very peculiar to him. How was Lucy I asked myself, she usually calls by morning. “Fine I suppose, just…just a moment” I said stretching out a finger before carrying off to the far end of my apartment where the phone sat. Nearly halfway to the phone,before my destination was even clear Riley said “she’s not going to answer, I tried a few times this morning” I didn’t know if Riley would be offended that she had ignored his calls when I knew she would answer to mine. Calling her didn’t seem like the brightest idea anymore. I stopped and pivoted my body to face both him and the phone. I rested my head against my hand, covering my mouth as if I were afraid to say something stupid. “Oh go ahead, I won’t be hurt” he giggled. “Call her.” We locked eyes and he gave a reassuring nod to answer the thought of “are you sure?” that swam the walls of my head. I continued my walk to the phone and swung the dial to every correct number. It began to ring and after just seconds a sweet voice picked up on the other end. “Mornin’ Partner” she said while exhaling a long yawn. “Hmm..that wasn’t very proper of Lucy Jacobs!”  I responded. I heard a distant laugh as if she had rose from her bed but left the phone behind. She was now yelling, my prediction was correct. “Well there isnt a day we shouldn’t make a change to, do you or do you not agree?” she said sternly.I took a quick look over to Riley who seemed to be off in his own very world. I fixed my attention to the floor and continued on with Lucy.”I agree” “Good, now I’m going to make the assumption Riley has made the trip to your place because I refused I denied him of conversation,” she spoke so out of time. “and I will be over there in ten,see you then!” The line went dead. I jumped at the appearance of Riley just a few steps behind me. “She’s coming?” “Yes”  Riley didn’t looked surprised, he was a steady man of more knowledge than I knew of. “Well, I’ll start cooking, eggs-in-a basket and maybe a side of bacon for old times sake?” I ran my fingers over his cheek, “That’d be lovely” He winked, grabbed his jacket he had set down on the arm of one of my mother’s fine coaches and made his way toward the door. “I’ll be back” he yelled while throwing one hand in the air and another on the door handle.The apartment filled with a strange type of silence, one I was pleased with but left me feeling vulnerable. Silence brought the most noise, sparked a train of never-ending thoughts. Thinking never does me good. I commonly overthought situations, feelings and things i could have done better,things i’ve done wrong. Riley knew how to drag you away from any pain that strangled your heart. Riley had a soft look to him. He was not buff, but not thin. He had tone to his body and a slight shade to the pigment of his skin. He wore black,circular rounded glasses that made his nose seem too tiny for his face. He had a love for scarves and high fashion, he lived his life to the quote “In with the new and out with the old” at all times. “You can not dwell on one event or you’ll get left behind because in the world of fashion know one is going to care for you. It’s either you do or don’t.” Riley was well known for his work and every summer he took the trip to Italy