Stars in our Hearts

He went by unnoticed

Crius remembered one of Charosé's runway shows, Linda Berk, a black woman, was modelling for one of her designs. Charosé's assistant at the time hired her, without knowing. It's pretty obvious how that ended up.

Charosé insulted her in the dress that she looked beautiful in.

I can't have someone incompetent wear my designs... you don't fit in. Take it off right now.

Crius watched Alida comfort the model as much as she could, while he watched and did nothing. He was ashamed of himself for it, but there wasn't much he could do about it, it's been years. He grew up, he was better now.

Alida, indirectly, taught him how to be a better person.

The idea of standing up to his aunt haunted him before, but he would no longer let Charosé get away with anything. Even though she could.

The cold wind hit his face as soon as he stepped outside the warmth of the café.

"I got her friends number, she was hot wasn't she?" Sorin said as the two of them walked side by side. Crius had his hands in his pockets, the cold seeped through his coat so fast, he shivered even with the many layers he wore.

"Do you have to be so... crude? Can't you say she was beautiful or something?" He asked Sorin, but the brown-skinned boy rolled his eyes. "Girls are hot or cute. Beautiful and shit like that is meant for mom's and I don't know, old people. Hemera was hot. Her body... Holy, the things I could do to her."

Crius wondered many times why he was still friends with Sorin. He hated the derogatory terms he used to describe girls. He hated the way he was two faced in front of them.

"You're disgusting, Sorin. How would you like it if some guy talked about you like that?"

His voice was stern—rude. He didn't understand him, he wanted to punch him or do something to put Sorin in his place. But no matter how many times Crius told him to shut up, Sorin never changed.

"Dude what the hell? That's fucking disgusting. It's her fault for flaunting her boobs like right in front of me."

Crius took a deep breath and his hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his coat. "She was wearing clothes, Sorin. Clothes. They have nothing to do with how you see her and what you say about her."

Sorin scoffed. "You're such a feminist. They wear clothes like that to get our attention. She even leaned in to show me more, stop acting so stupid."

"Her friend didn't wear anything like that and she was still... beautiful." And still caught my attention.

Alida had worn a sweater dress and he knew she made it herself. It was red, the same colour as the lipstick she had worn. She had altered it, there were thick straps supporting the dress around her shoulders. The dress was long, it reached her ankles. Under it, she wore a sheer black top, that was dark enough to barely show any skin.

If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have noticed it. But it was hard to miss such a masterpiece.

"You're kidding, right? She's what? Japanese? Korean? That's an automatic turn off." Sorin snorted.

"And you're what? Moroccan? Her race should have nothing to do with her attractiveness, same with yours so shut the hell up, Sorin." Crius clenched his jaw so hard. When Sorin looked up at him, he took a step back and held his hands up in surrender. "I was just saying, Crius. No need to go all alpha on me."

Crius's patience with Sorin was thin. He debated on using violence. But was Sorin worth the anger coursing through his veins? No, no he wasn't. So instead he stayed calm. "Grow the fuck up."