Love Disorder (Lesbian, Girlxgirl)

Chapter 1. Introduction

If this happened to other people, they'd be anxious about their futures by now. Dead parent. No other relatives. Nowhere to go to. It was enough to make anyone cry. Not me though. Okay, I wasn't a complete robot. My heart was breaking. My throat hurts. I haven't had much sleep in days. But I was way past that breaking down point. I was simply numb.

I was about to turn around when a woman who was dressed in all black quietly stood beside me. Where did she come from and why didn't I hear her, I thought as I stared. Regardless, the moment I saw her face, I knew who she was. "Uno?" I said. "I thought you wouldn't come."

Her fingers tightened around the stem of the white rose she was carrying. "I got delayed."

I could tell you a lot of things about this person from a single glance. Her name was Uno. She was twenty one years old. With naturally pink lips, straight nose, and piercing blue eyes, she was the kind of person who would get a second, third, hundred stares as she passed. Her lean and tall form was impossible to miss. At the moment, her ash colored hair framed her pale face as she gazed at the spot where mom was buried.

"Sorry I couldn't come sooner." Her voice cracked. "But I want you to know that Manager Chance was a good woman." Manager Chance. That was what everyone called mom. Aside from raising me, she did a good job at being a manager. Uno was her talent, a Hollywood star. I was in the presence of one of the most bankable celebrities in our time, and I couldn't even enjoy it because of the circumstances. She offered a hand. "I believe we haven't been introduced personally yet."

"We haven't." Her palm was a stark contrast to my cold shaking hand. "I'm Riri Chance," I managed to say. "Mrs. Chance's daughter."

"Glad to finally meet you." We resumed staring at mom's grave. By now, twilight was upon us. What remained of the sunlight played with our hair, our faces, our skin. It was beautiful and sad, just like poetry. It smelled of dirt and sunshine. It was a series of contradictions. I didn't know what to feel.

"Hey," she said after a while. "Would you like to go with me? Even though technically we both had the same mom." She made quotation marks in the air. "We haven't known each other until now. I think it would be good for us to talk." Mom never cared to introduce us before, saying she didn't like work and family life to mix. You'd meet Uno at the right time, she would reason.

"I don't want to interfere with your schedule," I said. She was an actress. She probably had meetings left and right.

"I'm on break." She took my hand and clasped it tightly. "Please don't say no." Uno flashed me one of her famous rarely-seen-except-on-movies killer smiles. Dimpled. Lopsided. And all that. It didn't quite reach her eyes though. I understood that part clearly. She was in mourning and wanted someone to talk to. Someone who knew what it felt. If there was that someone, it would be me. Both talent and daughter were orphaned by the same woman.

I breathed in before saying, "Okay, count me in."

"Great, give me a second." Uno went to her knees and solemnly placed the white rose on the soil. She closed her eyes for a second. "Thank you for everything," she murmured before getting up. Uno has been under mom's care since she started in the show business. Mom has never complained once, and from what I understood, her wage was more than generous.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked as we walked on the grass.

"I missed lunch today. Is it okay if you eat with me? I know a good restaurant near here." She avoided a tombstone. "They serve good dishes."

"Sure. Whatever you want."

I followed closely behind her. Though she was taller than me, Uno wasn't the type to walk quickly. Based on her manner of walking, one hand tucked in the pocket of her black slacks, I could tell you that she was an easygoing person. I was subconsciously playing the game again. It has become a habit. We stopped beside a heavily tinted, black Hummer truck. Uno opened the passenger door for me and helped me get up. For someone who was used to being fawned over, she was incredibly nice.