Emilie's POV - 22 years ago - before meeting Mr. Agreste
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No matter where I am, what I do, or how great my accomplishment is, there's apart of me that feels it is all for nothing.
Wasting.
That's the only way I can describe this feeling. When I am standing in line at the grocery store. When I am on the stage at one of my performances in front of thousands of people. When I am playing board games with my friends. When I am having dinner with my mother and sister. When I am alone. Wherever I am. It follows me.
What is this disease or disorder called? It prevents me from fully enjoying myself or living in the moment. Wherever I am, I wonder if there is somewhere else I should be. This overwhelming urgency to be great and do something amazing makes me feel small - it makes everything in my life seem worthless. Until I achieve that "big" thing (whatever it is) everything is for nothing. All is a waste.
There is so much more in me. Is it that I'm not living up to my fullest potential? Am I missing out on the fame? Does my stage need to be bigger? Do I need to be playing in front of more people? What will give me peace?
Where is that place? The place I feel I am meant to be. The place I no longer wonder. The place I no longer waste. How do I get there? Before I run out of time.
But wait. I don't have time. I'll never get there. My life is already a waste and it's barely just begun.
"Emilie," a unfamiliar male voice said, snapping me out of my darker thoughts and back to the miserable present - the doctor's office.
I'd been waiting for the past fifteen minutes, staring at these creepy diagrams of organs in the human body pinned on the blindingly white walls. Now I was face-to-face with vibrant green eyes, hair as black as coal, and cotton skin.
"Dr. Moulin is out for a family emergency. I'll be covering for him as his PA," the man said, sitting at a red swiveled chair and logging onto a computer.
"And you are?" I questioned, swinging my legs from the check-up bed.
"Dr. Decente. You can call me Adrien if you'd like," he said as his long fingers typed, most likely pulling up all my private information.
I crossed my legs and arms, feeling a rush of blush shoot through my face. I didn't want him to learn all my secrets.
"I refuse to be seen by anyone other than Dr. Moulin. So, I'll be leaving," I said, attempting to stand.
One soft look from him caused my body to freeze. He offered me a kind smile that caused the corners of his oval eyes to squint. It felt as if a sack of powder had tipped over in my stomach. Strange.
"Ms. Emilie, from my understanding you need your evaluation weekly. So, there's no need to be embarrassed. Please remove your wig," He said.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, my eyes landing on the fellow skeleton in the corner.
"I see it plainly in your records. There's no point in hiding it."
I sighed, hesitantly tugging off my long blonde hair, to reveal my empty skull. I looked just like the skeleton - we were twins now. Whenever my head was bear like this - whenever the real me was shown - I felt humiliated. Even in front of doctors.
I couldn't make eye contact. I didn't want to see the disgusted look in his face.
"Relax, Emilie. You still look attractive," he chuckled.
"Don't patronize me," I said, lowering my head in shame.
"I'm not," he said, gently guiding my chin until his soft eyes were melting mine. Why was my heart racing? It couldn't be true! He was just being cruel.
"Have you noticed any signs of weakening in your muscles?" He asked, eyeing my scalp before pulling out his stethoscope and placing the knob against the blue hospital gown covering me.
"No," I said quickly.
"Any heart palpitations or chest pains?"
"Only sometimes," I said, "very mild."
"And you are taking your medication?" He questioned, placing the scope on my back.
"Yes," I hesitated.
"Ms. Emilie," he said sternly.
"Sometimes," I admitted, "If it weren't for that crap, I'd still have my hair."
"You need to take those pills everyday," he scolded, "Otherwise the inflammation could..."
"What difference does it make? I'm dying anyway," I muttered, crossing my arms like an angry child.
"Everyone is dying," Adrien said, "That's no excuse to give up early."
"Who are you to tell me what I should or shouldn't do?" I challenged.
He ignored my comment, "Do you still smoke cigarettes?"
"Wait, is that on my record?" I asked, trying to peak at his screen.
"I recommend chewing nicotine gum until you are able to break this addiction. Unless you want lung damage in addition to your heart problems," he said.
"Please delete that. Whatever it says. Just delete it. I won't tell anyone you did it. Besides I only smoke like one a week. Not enough to count as a full fledge addiction."
"It's staying on your record," he said flatly.
I huffed. He placed his fingers on the sides of my neck to feel my swollen glands.
"Your hands are cold," I grumbled.
"My apologies," he said.
"And you're making me dizzy," I said, avoiding eye contact.
"Is that so?" He chuckled.
"And you're not even taking me seriously! Is there a review I can fill out? I'm ranking you low. You're a very bad nurse," I said.
"I'm a physicians assistant, not a nurse," he said.
"Tomato tomato," I muttered, "I'm still going to tell Dr. Moulin to fire you."
"I'm impressed. There's a lot of rage in that little body of yours," he said, moving his hands to my stomach, "When was the last time you had your cycle?"
I blushed. No. No. No. He may be a man-nurse but I was not having this discussion with him.
"I decline to answer," I said, cocking my head up in pride.
"Your records indicate you haven't had one in two years. Is that still true?"
"Maybe. Again, a courtesy of the medication," I sighed, "Now, no more intrusive questions. How is this even relevant to my heart?"
There was a long pause as he typed information (whatever he concluded about me) into that computer. Finally, he swiveled his chair and met me with a compassionate gaze.
"Emilie, are you depressed?" Adrien asked.
Suddenly, I felt very still - as if his words had calmed the raging sea inside me. Why was there something in me crying out? Wanting to be held and understood? Wanting sympathy? No. I must stay strong. His question was dumb anyway. Of course I wasn't depressed.
"What did I just say? That's very intrusive," I swallowed, "I decline to answer."
"Then how are you doing? Emotionally? Mentally?"
"I'm doing fantastic," I smiled, "If I had more than two years to live, I'd be even more swell."
"I see," he nodded, drawing a finger to his chin, "If I could grant you your request, what would you do with the time?"
"Who are you? My fairy god mother?"
"Just answer my question. I'm merely gaging your mental health."
"Fine. I'll answer your stupid, intrusive question. I want to live a full life! I want to sing and play the piano in front of millions ...no...billions of people. I want to be a world famous actress starring in Hollywood movies. I want to create my own movies and be a producer. I want to open a recording studio to record my songs and help others record theirs. I want to write plays and be the lead star in those plays on Broadway. Then, when all is said and done I want to write a best selling book about my life. So, to answer your question - I would do everything - I want everything. Is that too much to ask," I said, before taking a large gulp of air.
"Then why not?" He shrugged, "The only one limiting you is yourself."
"And my confused immune system that is devouring my organs. Forget about that?"
"No. I have not. In fact, I've decided to recommend you to a specialist. I believe he will help you," he said with a smile.
"Who? I've seen every 'specialist' and 'expert' under the sun. They all say the same thing," I said.
"I believe he may help your overall health," Adrien said, "who knows, you may just get the miracle you hoped for."
"What's his name? I've probably already seen him," I said.
"Dr. Fu."
"No idea who that is," I shrugged.
Adrien gave me some forms to fill in addition to a refill on my medication. Finally, my doctor's visit was over.
"Emilie," he said, just as I was about to leave the office, "Remember me, when you're famous and living among the stars with your fancy sports cars and yellow dresses..."
"Yellow?" I interrupted, "yellow is a disgusting color. No one in Hollywood wears it. Where did you even come up with that?"
"Forgive my ignorance," he sighed, "but you're missing the point."
"And why do you want me to remember you? Are you a gold digger?"
"Remember that I treated you, and send more patients my way," he said, looking almost bashful in the way his dark hair showered his eyes. Was he intentionally hiding under his bangs or was it just the way his head was tilted?
"Oh," I said, "That's it?"
"That's it," he smiled, "Have a good rest of your day."
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Dr. Fu's office was unlike any hospital or clinic I've ever been to. The outside was lined with bamboo and structured like a Chinese's hut. I followed the narrow stone path lined with evenly cut grass until I made it to the door. At the front door was a red mat, instructing me to take my shoes off and put slippers on. I did so and entered the strange place.
The smell of cinnamon and green tea filled the air. I examined the square, high-ceiling room. No chairs. No tables. Just thick black mats and natural light flowing through the circular windows near the roof.
"Hello? Is Dr. Fu here?" I asked.
"Yes I am. Please take a seat," the middle-age Chinese man said wearing a flowered shirt, sitting in a pretzel hold. Woah! Where'd he come from? He was sitting in the middle of the room. Had I missed him or had he magically appeared?
I mimicked his position on the matted ground, feeling skeptical. What had Adrien gotten me into?
"So, just get to the point. How are you any different than anyone else who claims to be able to fix my problem?" I asked.
"Emilia, I want..."
"Why would you call me that?" I snapped, "is that...is that in my records?"
"I have not received any records," Dr. Fu said.
"Please. Just. That's. Don't call me that," I stammered.
"I see your old wounds have been left unhealed," Dr. Fu said, stroking his narrow chin.
"This has nothing to do with my condition," I said.
"Everything is connected. An ill mind yields an ill body," Dr. Fu said.
"My mind? You're saying everything I'm experiencing is because of my mind?"
"Precisely. By changing your mind - and clearing away the pain that pollutes it - you can alter your health," he hummed.
"How do I change my mind?" I asked.
He chuckled as if the answer was obvious.
"That's how I can help you," he said, "Start by laying flat on the mat and clearing your mind. I'm going to tell you a story. A story that will change your life."
"I gotta warn you, I'm a hard one to impress. I doubt it will change anything," I said, following his instructions.
I heard him rise from the mat, and turn on some bird chirping and water flowing music. What had I gotten myself into? Was he going to bring out a gong and start singing? Was it too late to leave?
"In the beginning, there was nothing except God and his angels," Dr. Fu began.
"What kind of story is this?" I questioned.
"The story of the world," he said, "Now listen.
Each one of God's angels was unique - all possessing their own power. Humans often referred to these angels as spirits of the zodiac."
Dr. Fu paused, taking a deep breath:
"Of all the angels, the spirit of the Eel was favored - his power was the greatest of them all. His pride only grew as God's favor towards him grew - before long the Eel began to believe he could be god. He persuaded the other spirits to partake in his organized rebellion. They followed him and attempted to engage God in a battle in His very own throne room."
I turned to my side, feeling pain in my shoulder. I hoped this man would just get to the point.
"The zodiacs lost. For justice's sake, God sent the zodiacs to earth, forcing them to take human form in hopes they'd learn from their mistakes. The only problem was if they took a human body, they would be subject to natural law - including death. The spirits lived and died as humans, molding and shaping the course of history in both good and horrible ways. When they died, their natural bodies decayed while their supernatural powers materialized into eternal gemstones - what I call a Miraculous. These Miraculouses acted as a self-contained prison, trapping their unconscious souls. Perhaps it was poetic justice - the same power they used to fight God, was now what bound them."
"That left me very confused. So, you're saying the zodiac spirits are trapped in rocks," I questioned.
"Not a rock. A Miraculous gemstone," he corrected.
"Tomato tomato. How is that even relevant to me? That didn't change my life. If anything, it creeped me out," I said, peaking my eyes open.
"I'll allow you to judge the credibility of my story after you see results."
"Wait, so you are going to give me one of these 'god-like gemstones?' Why me?"
"I've decided you'd be a worthy candidate," he said, rising to his feet and pulling out a silver necklace from an ancient box.
"'Cuz of my many illnesses?" I scoffed.
"Because of something inside of you," he said, "Here."
I stared at the necklace in suspicion.
"That's a necklace, not a gemstone," I said flatly.
"The Miraculouses use magic to disguise themselves. This one's power has chosen to be a necklace," he said.
"So, a dead soul is really in here?" I said, feeling grossed out as I held the necklace to the light.
"It's not dead," he said, "The zodiac souls are sleeping for an indefinite period of time."
"So, they're basically dead," I said.
"No," Dr. Fu frowned, "Why you no understand?"
"Sorry, sorry," I said, shaking my hands, "Am I going to have super powers?" I asked.
"No. You will have a healed mind and body," he said, "Just remember, this necklace has two pieces - keep the pieces together and you will be able to use the full power. If the pieces are separated, the power will be weakened or lost."
I put the necklace on, happy that it was at least somewhat cute.
"I feel no different," I said, "Unless you told me all this to have a placebo effect."
"Give it time," he smiled.
"So, which dead soul is this?"
Dr. Fu gave me an frustrated look.
"I mean, 'alive soul'. Which alive soul is this?"
"You will get the Eel," he said.
"But that one is evil!" I exclaimed, "isn't that the one that led the rebellion against God?"
He chuckled, "So, you do believe my story," he paused, "All of the Miraculouses are evil. If you remember, they all rebelled. That doesn't discredit the good that can come out of their power."
I nodded. Fair point.
"Do I get to keep it forever? Or should I give it back after I'm supposedly healed?"
"Keep it. It will be yours until you have your first son," he said.
"Oh. I don't plan on having kids ever. Nor do I plan on ever getting married."
"That's fine," he smiled, "Keep it. For your bloodline."
Did he not just hear me? I didn't want kids!
"Say. Who are you? How do you have the souls?" I asked, as I passed the threshold of the door.
"I'm The Guardian."
"Is that code for something else? Are you even human?" I questioned.
"I decline to answer," he said with a chuckle, "Fear not. All things will come together in time."
Time. What is time? How long must I wait for my healing? Was this even a good idea?
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Time. In time my hair grew back even thicker and longer than it ever was. My eyelashes and eyebrows also grew back. My bruises disappeared as well as my fatigue. My heart was healed - my immune system worked properly. I was normal again. Thanks to the power of this necklace. Or the power I believed it had.
While time gave me back my life, it decided to take away my love - my only love. Adrien passed away in a helicopter accident shortly after we were engaged.
He was the only man who ever truly loved me - he saw my truest self and knew what I was - and still decided he wanted me. Any man who loved me after my healing, would never know or understand the true me. They would only see my golden hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. Unlike Adrien - who saw my naked skull, weary eyes, and skin dented from IVs and vitamin drips.
When Adrien died, everything in my life turned yellow. It was the color that reminded me of him - the color I wore during mourning - and the color I would always wear to represent my undying love for him.
Wasting.
If I didn't achieve everything I'd told Adrien I would, I would be a failure. He was counting on me to become a star. To remember him and honor his life, I needed to be everything - to do everything. Otherwise my life would be a waste - and Adrien's death would be in vain. It was the only way to give purpose and worth to all the wrongs that happened to me and him.
But I was failing at my dreams.
I stepped out on the auditorium stage staring at the hundreds of blurred faces. They were all here to listen to my piano. I couldn't help but feel disappointed. This stage was small and there weren't nearly enough people here. I could be more if I tried harder.
I smoothed out my yellow gown as I took a seat at the black piano. Closing my eyes, I imagined Adrien sitting next to me and pretended he was listening. After all, this was a song I wrote for him.
The music poured out of my soul like crashing waves - it was the release of my grief. And I was showering it over everyone here.
Look up, A strange voice said. Was it my own head?
When I did, I locked eyes with two glowing orbs. It was a man sitting in the private viewing room with a woman wearing a red dress. The man stared at me in awe, as the woman in red stared at him with equal awe.
There is your future, the eerie voice whispered.
When the performance ended, my manager told me to go back to my changing room immediately. A special guest had paid a great deal of money to meet me. I sighed - fans that paid to get my autograph were usually very weird and it was always awkward.
On the other side of the changing room door was the man with glasses. He was handsome. More handsome than he look from afar.
"Ma'am, it's an honor to meet you. I just wanted to say how much your music touched me," he said, offering out a hand.
I took it as he enclosed both hands around mine.
"I'm glad you liked it," I said, "I wish more people felt the same way."
The truth was that my sales were plummeting and I was a long ways away of achieving Adrien and my dream.
"I don't understand how your ticket sales aren't soaring. I'd pay millions just to sit in the front row," the man said.
"Millions?" I questioned, "Who did you say you were again?"
"I'm Gabriel Agreste. CEO of Agreste Inc.," he smiled.
"Oh," I said, hating myself for seeing the opportunity.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to make a donation to your organization," he said.
"I'd appreciate that," I smiled.
"And in exchange, I'd like you to accompany me to dinner this Friday. Does that sound fair?" He asked.
Oh. He was one of those.
"Fair enough," I shrugged.
"Mr. Agreste," a woman's voice said. The door opened to reveal the beautiful woman in red, "Our limo has arrived."
"Thank you Natalie," Gabriel said, without breaking eye contact with me.
Natalie and I locked eyes. She seemed nice enough - but I could tell she wasn't too fond of me. I wondered who she was to Mr. Agreste. His girlfriend? His sister? His friend?
As if reading my mind, Gabriel said, "Oh, and this is my lovely assistant Natalie."
Natalie's eye twitched despite the fake smile plastered on her thin lips. I was no stranger to a woman's heart. She clearly loved him - it was so obvious. Well, obvious to everyone except Mr. Agreste.
"We better head out now. I look forward to this Friday. Also, that dress is stunning on you. Yellow is definitely your color," he smiled.
"Yellow is hideous," I said flatly.
Gabriel awkwardly chuckled, "Well, then you've managed to do justice to such a hideous color."
I randomly started laughing. This man had a great sense of humor. He seemed pleasantly surprised that he'd made me laugh. And so was I. Only Adrien could ever make me laugh like this.
Little did I know, that I'd just met my future husband.
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"Emilie, I want us to live our lives together," Gabriel said, as we stood near the Eiffel Tower, huddled under an umbrella on a rainy day, "Please marry me."
I was unpleasantly surprised - how could Mr. Agreste propose after our first date on Friday? He even had a large diamond ring. I thought we'd share our first kiss and then plan our next date - never in a million years was I expecting a proposal.
"Umm...I...this is only our first date. We are still strangers to each other," I said.
"No. Not to me. I feel like I've known you my entire life. This is unusual for me. I always do what is logical, but now I feel it is my time to take a risk and to do the illogical. I want to be with you. I want you to be the future Mrs. Agreste."
My head was swirling with confusion.
"You don't truly know me," I said, lowering my head, "I didn't always look like this. I ... I was very, very sick."
"In sickness and in health," Mr. Agreste said.
"If you saw me back then, you wouldn't even look at me twice," I said.
"Of course I would. It's strange. But I already know I love you."
"What about your assistant? She seems to like you," I said.
"Natalie? Natalie is only my assistant and nothing more. There is no attraction on either side," he said quickly, almost as if desperate to get my answer.
If I married Mr. Agreste, I'd have more than enough funds to achieve my dreams. But would it be cheating on Adrien?
"Ok," I finally said.
"Ok?"
"Ok. I'll marry you," I said firmly.
Before I knew it, we were sharing our first kiss.
"I have one more request," Mr. Agreste said.
"Yes?"
"Let's get married today," he said.
"What? Oh my goodness," I said, feeling lightheaded, "You seriously want to elope?"
"Why not? We can have the big wedding ceremony afterwards."
After a few moments of thought I said:
"Why not?" I shrugged, "Today will work. I don't have much going on anyway."
"Excellent," he grinned, leaning in to kiss me again. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around him and welcoming him into my embrace.
So, I did the craziest thing I'd ever done and got married after my first date.
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It still didn't go away. Years passed.
My performances grew exponentially. Mr. Agreste funded all my endeavors. He was truly kind to me. I just didn't love him yet. I thought in time I would. But Adrien still lingered in the corners of my mind. A lot of things lingered in my mind - including my overwhelming urgency to do everything.
While I was the closest I'd ever been to achieving my music dreams, my acting dreams were falling behind. No one would cast me regardless of all the agents who tried to market me.
Time was passing and I was getting older. If I didn't try harder, then my dreams would all be for nothing. While this necklace may have given me time, it wasn't giving me what I truly needed in life.
"Eel, I thought it would be different," I said, fingers trembling at my new white piano. I often talked to the spirit. I wasn't sure if it had woken up or if it was just my own head. Regardless, it made me feel a little less lonely when Mr. Agreste worked his many hours. It had been with me almost as long as Adrien had - it knew me well.
Why are you disappointed? The Eel said.
"I just thought I could be someone. Instead, I'm just a life full of unfulfilled potential. A failure. I'm becoming nothing," I cried, " I just want peace. Peace with myself. But that's impossible unless I keep my promises to Adrien."
I can give you peace.
"No. No, you can't."
Why do you have so little faith in me after all these years?
"Because you let me down. So many times."
I've never once let you down.
"You did. By giving me back time. I don't want it. I don't want more time if it means just a longer duration of my suffering. All I want is Adrien."
I gave you the gift of time. You are the one who chose to suffer. Ungrateful. Everything I gave you can easily be taken away.
"Then what do you recommend?" I hissed.
Live the life you have. The life I gave you.
"What I have is not what I want. There is so much more in me than this," I said.
Until he comes, I will tolerate your insanity. Then, I will remove everything I ever gave you. You are truly a waste... an unworthy vessel.
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