🦋MIA🦋
The smell of burnt toast wafts in the air, clinging to every surface in the kitchen and almost suffocating as Aria, Jodan, Vin and Tommy each pick the charred slices of french toast before them. The toasts, once golden brown and delicious, now bears the marks of my failed first attempt at cooking. Their surfaces are singed and blackened resembling more the remnants of a fire than a breakfast delicacy. I'm ecstatic that I've started learning how to cook and not having to depend on take outs anymore. So even though the french toasts are burnt, I'm still eager to see the reaction of my friends and brother. With hesitant hands, each of them pick a piece of the toast, their fingers pressing against the hardened surface. The texture crumbles beneath their touch leaving behind a trail of black crumbs.
As they take their first bite, their expressions contort, brows furrowing and lips curling in discomfort as they struggle to chew through the toughened crust. Each bite seems to require an extra effort, the burnt toast resisting their teeth as if it holds a grudge for being subjected to abuse. My first french toasts are horrible.
I frown as they lay their half eaten pieces of toasts back on the plate. "It's horrible."
"It's not horrible, it's good." Vin counters wiping his mouth with a napkin as his face contorts further. He picks a glass of water gulping it down to get rid of the bitter taste lingering on his tongue like a stubborn stain refusing to be washed away. He's clearly lying because he doesn't want to hurt my feelings. He couldn't even take a second bite.
"You don't have to lie just to please me."
"It's not that good." Tommy admits to me this time. "It's good but not that good."
"Why're you saying that to her, the french toast is good. Look, she's sad now." Vin nudges him and they start arguing. A simple thing as food tasting is now turning into an argument. My lips curl into a frown as sadness creeps over me. I had put an effort to prepare these hoping to impress myself and my loved ones but it has turned out horrible.
"I don't want to lie to my sister." Tommy, gazes at me keenly, sensing my distress and pulls me into a warm and comforting hug. Gently pulling away from the hug, he looks into my eyes with a tender smile. "Mia it's your first time in the kitchen, don't be sad. You made the effort and that's what matters."
Actually I'm not sad, I'm only disappointed that my first attempt at cooking came out a disaster. Since we all can't cook to save our lives, we decide to go to our usual Café in the city for breakfast. After showering and doing my morning routine, I sit down infront of the huge vanity mirror to do my makeup, the soft morning light filtering in through the windows casting a gentle glow on my face. I begin by prepping my skin, applying a light moisturizer to hydrate and create a smooth canvas. Then I reach for my favourite foundation, carefully blending it in with a soft makeup brush. The foundation seamlessly evens out on my skin tone, leaving behind a natural and radiant finish.
Moving to my eyes, I select a sparkly pink eyeshadow palette that catches the light and adds a touch of glamour to my look. With a fluffy eyebrow brush, I gently sweep the shimmering shade across my eyelids building up the colour to achieve my desired intensity. The pink eyeshadow creates a playful and feminine vibe, accentuating the natural beauty of my eyes. Next, I carefully line my upper lash line with a jet black eyeliner, creating a precise and defined wing that elongates my eyes. The flick of the eyeliner adds a touch of sophistication and drama to my overall makeup look.
To enhance my lashes, I reach for a volumizing mascara and with a few coats, my lashes become long, bold and luscious, framing my eyes beautifully. The mascara adds depth and intensity to my eye makeup, making my eyes more captivating and alluring. Now, it's time for my lips and I opt for a soft nude lipstick that complements the pink eyeshadow perfectly. The creamy formula glides effortlessly across my lips, leaving behind a natural hint. The nude shade enhances the shape of my lips, giving them a plump and inviting look. With my makeup complete, I turn my attention to my hair, gathering the locks and twisting them into a messy bun, allowing a few loose tendrils to frame my face.
Then I slip into a white sweatshirt dress that falls gracefully around my figure, pairing it with white chunky sneakers. As I take a final glance of myself in the vanity mirror, I can't help but smile at how gorgeous I am. The sparkly pink eyeshadow, bold lashes and nude lipstick perfectly harmonize with the white sweatshirt dress and chunky sneakers creating a look that balances glamour and comfort. Now I'm ready to conquer the day with my radiant and stylish look.
As Tommy, Vin, Jodan, Aria and I enter the café, we're immediately greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of a bustling morning. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, intertwining with the soft melodies playing from the music speakers above. Taking our usual table at the corner, we find it nestled by the window, allowing us to observe the world outside as we sip our coffee. The window provides a glimpse into the outside world, I can see people walking by, their footsteps echoing against the pavement and cars passing in steady rhythm. I can't wait to enjoy a cup of freshly brewed coffee and indulge in the sweet aroma of roasted beans and caramel. It's what I always look forward to on most mornings.
"You finally faced mum and dad and talked to them. I'm proud of you." Tommy smiles widely at me, hugging me again.
"I had to and I'm finally free. I'm starting over."
"You were putting our parents' needs before yours. That's what you've been doing all these years because you don't want to disappoint them." Tommy voices again. "I'm glad you took a step to take back control of your life."
It's not only parents who sacrifice for their kids. Kids sacrifice their dreams for parents too.
"I chose my major on my own though, they didn't choose it for me." I state smiling brightly. I'm studying what I've always wanted. At the mention of a major he, goes silent giving me a faint smile.
"Mum and dad only want the best for us but that doesn't mean they have to choose for us entirely what we should do with our lives. They should allow us make our own choices too." Tommy says again. "I am happy that they understand that now."
"Me too." Leaning on his shoulder he holds my hand giving it a gentle squeez. I know I can always count on him.
"Look at you two being close." Aria coos at Tommy and I as she rests her elbows on the table leaning against her palms. "I admire your bond and close friendship alot. You two aren't only siblings, you're friends too. It's adorable."
Aria is an only child, same to Jodan and Vin.
Our orders are finally set to the table, the aroma of strong coffee permeating heavily in the room with the rich scent of roasted beans. Eargely lifting my cup of steaming americano to my lips, I take a long sip breathing in the satisfying aroma. The smell of great coffee is beyond intoxicating. Gently Placing the cup back on the table my attention is drawn to the delectable spread before me. A golden croissant, its flaky layers delicately folded and baked to perfection, awaits my first bite. Its buttery aroma mingles with the scent of the raspberries which are nestled invitingly on a small dish. My gaze is soon captured by the unexpected addition to my order. Two peach cobbler cinnamon rolls adorned with a generous amount of icing. "It's on the house." The waiter informs me with a warm smile before walking away. The cinnamon rolls smell heavenly and I'm sure they're soft and flaky I can't wait to eat them. I've started my morning quite well today and I hope my day ends well too.
As I step into the lecture hall, my eyes widen in surprise as I realize that for once, I'm the first to arrive. The air carries a serene stillness, broken only by the faint humming of the air conditioning. Since I still have some free time on my hands I decide to read one of my novels that I never had the time to read before, my eyes glimmering as they flicker over the pages, dancing across the lines. The words come alive, beckoning me to immerse myself in their world. With each page I turn, the characters materialize, their voices whispering in my mind and their stories interweaving with my own.
Time seems to stand still, minutes slipping away as I remain lost in the embrace of the narrative. The outside world fades into insignificance and I become enveloped in a world of imagination and discovery. The characters become my companions, their joys and sorrows mingling with my own emotions. My classmates trickle in class one by one, their eyes widening at the sight of me already seated. They're used to me arriving last. All I can do is offer them a gentle smile since my eyes are still glimmering with the magic of the story I've been immersed in.
Ava arrives few minutes later adorning a navy blue floral minidress that's hugging her curves perfectly in the right places, her long wavy hair framing her thin and pretty face and a bag draped securely on her shoulder. One thing I've noticed about Ava is her undying love for floral patterns on her clothes. It's a signature element of her style and she embraces it wholeheartedly. With every outfit that graces her gorgeous and curvy body, there must be a floral piece in it. Whether it's a dress, a skirt or even a blouse, the floral patterns she chooses reflect her love for nature and desire to bring beauty into her everyday life. The outfits are always never too tight nor too loose, striking a balance between elegance and comfort. Her distinct style makes her unique and stand out. She embraces her curves and femininity with grace, and her love, and her love for floral patterns showcases her vibrant personality.
Upon seeing me Ava rubs her eyes to confirm if it's truly me and I burst out laughing at the funny sight as she sits on the desk infront of mine. "Hey don't look so surprised, it's me. The one and only."
"No photoshoots or interviews today?" She asks taking a peep of the novel I'm reading.
"I quit modelling." I reveal to her and her eyes widen almost bulging out of their sockets. "You're going to be seeing more of me now. You better be ready because I'll be annoying you all day everyday."
"So that's why you're happier and carefree today. You're literally glowing my dear. I'm looking forward to seeing this new side of you, this calm and peaceful side."
"I'm now focusing on myself. I'm leaving my past behind me because it belongs back there." I utter and she laughs softly getting up and hugging me. "My past is dead to me, I only care about now and my future."
"I'm happy for you."
Afternoon comes and we attend Mrs. Jacky's lecture. She's also surprised to see me in class because she has always been punctual and arrives before me. She's used to seeing me file in after her. However, today is different. Today, I've arrived before her and it appears to have caught her off guard. She smiles warmly at me before beginning the lecture. I can see us becoming friends in future, she seems like a genuinely great person who is always ready to help.
All my lectures for today come to an end and I stop by a smoothie bar in the recreation center to treat myself to a refreshing strawberry smoothie. A delightful aroma of fresh fruits welcomes me inside the smoothie bar and I eargely place my order. With the cool smoothie in hand, I make my way towards the music club meeting room, the rhythmic beats echoing in the corridors guiding my every step. As I enter the room, I'm greeted by a warm and lively atmosphere. The walls are adorned with posters of famous musicians and the room is filled with the pleasant sound of instruments being tuned and voices engaging in animated conversations. Taking a moment to appreciate my surroundings, I realize that I've made the perfect choice in joining the music club.
As someone who has always had a passion for singing, this club offers me the opportunity to indulge in my love for music and explore my vocal talents further. Joining a club in university carries numerous benefits that extend beyond the classroom. It provides a much needed break from the demands of academic life, allowing me to unwind and engage in activities that bring me joy. The music club acts as a refuge where I can immerse myself in the world of melodies and harmonies, forgetting about assignments and deadlines for a while.
Moreover, joining a club opens doors to new friendships and connections. As I interact with fellow music enthusiasts, I have the chance to meet like minded individuals who share my passion. The club meetings and events provide a platform for collaboration where we can inspire and learn from one another. Upon entering the spacious room I gaze around in curiosity to the many students who are members, some already rehearsing and singing melodiously. Then they stop singing right after noticing my presence. This is so awkward for me because I'm not yet familiar with any of them. "She's here, she's finally here." One of them whispers to her friend who is sitting next to her as they both me usher me futher inside the room, their sweet voices warm and soft, so welcoming. "We've been waiting for you ever since you sang at the orientation talent show. We knew you would join us. You're gifted. You have the voice of an angel."
I smile back at them, one of the lead singers walking over to me. "I'm Jake, the president of the music club. You're welcome. Mia Ira Lazano, we all recognize you, so no need to introduce yourself. After you sang at the talent show we knew you would find your way here and you finally did. Welcome to the family."
"I'm delighted to be here." I state truthfully. I'm looking forward to spending more time with them, learning and growing together.
"We're now two hundred and one members, including you." Jake gives me a tour of the spacious room full of musical instruments. The walls are adorned with posters and photographs showcasing memorable performances and events that the group has participated in over the years. It's an evidence that this is a place where music thrives and friendships are forged. "Almost all the members usually show up for meetings, shows and events. Most of us here are dedicated and committed. We practice singing, making sure to give equal opportunities to all the members to shine and contribute. We also hold events on and off campus, showcasing our talents to a wider audience. Apart from singing we also learn to play musical instruments. We have talented members who play various instruments and are willing to teach other members. We all learn from one another here. We're a family brought together by something we're all passionate about. Music."
Jake tells me more about the club, the days and time for the meetings and rehearsals. I also listen to the members who are rehearsing as the band plays, the beats of the huge drums and tunes of the guitars creating a beautiful symphony I haven't heard in a long time it almost feels surreal. This is beyond singing, it's something more. It's art and expression of emotions.
Practice ends and I drive to a convenience store for shopping. As I walk into the store, I grab a shopping cart, taking out a list I wrote to make sure I don't forget anything. It feels a little overwhelming since I'm not used to shopping but I'm determined to get everything I need. First, I head to the produce section picking some fresh fruits and vegetables. I carefully select a variety of colourful fruits like apples, oranges and bananas along with a mix of vegetables like lettuce, tomatoes and ball peppers. I take my time examining each item making sure they're ripe and in good condition before placing them in a bag.
Next, I move to the snacks aisle, browsing through the different options available. I grab a few bags of my favourite chips and bars of chocolate and some healthier snacks like granola bars, making sure to choose a balance between nutrition and indulgence. As I make my way through the store, I pass by the soft drinks section grabbing a few cans of Coke and Sprite and bottles of sparkling water, carefully placing them in the cart while being mindful of the weight.
Moving on, I head to the diary section grabbing a gallon of milk, yoghurt, blocks of cheese, butter, margarine and cartons of eggs. I make a mental note to check the expiry dates to ensure freshness. Next I navigate to the toiletries aisle for shampoos, conditioners, body wash, toothpaste and toilet papers, grabbing the brands I prefer and making sure to stock enough supplies to last a while. I pick baking goods, sauces, oils and spices as well. With my cart now filled with all items on my list, I head to the checkout counter and the cashier scans each item, her assistant packing them inside the bags for me. The bags are heavy but I manage to carry them to the car.
Driving back to the apartment, I start putting the shopping away once I step inside the kitchen. Then I take my ample time handling all the chores properly myself.
After completing all the chores I take a long and warm bath, the scent of strawberry filling the air as the steaming water envelops my tired body, washing away the stresses of the day. I let my muscles relax and my mind wonder as I relish in the tranquility of the moment. After emerging from the bath, I slip into a comfortable, baggy tshirt, its soft fabric embracing me like a gentle hug. Next, I reach for my round framed glasses perching them delicately on the bridge of my nose. A stack of books sit patiently on the nightstand, their slines bearing the weight of countless stories and adventures. I pick the novel I had set aside earlier in the day, its pages now longing to be turned. As I open the book, the aroma of ink and paper wafts gently towards me, stirring memories of the countless words I've wondered through within these very pages.
With each turn of the page, I delve deeper into the narrative, immersing myself in an enchanting tale that transports me far from the confines of my room. The words dance before my eyes, painting vivid images in my mind's eye and I become a silent observer, watching the story unfold. There's freedom that comes from being self reliant and true to oneself. Back then when I used to read novels I usually did it with a bowl of strawberries and pieces of chocolate next to me as I indulge in them, savouring each bite. I'm bringing back that ritual now that I've started reading again. I'm bringing back the old me, the real me.
Minutes turn to hours with me sprawled on the bed lost in the novel, the tik tok sound of the butterfly clock filling the room. My eyes grow heavy as I yawn shutting the book and heading to the study desk placing it on top of the rest of the novels. My mirror in the corner comes to sight and I stand infront of it, staring back at my reflection. Slowly I pull the tshirt over my shoulders, the only piece of clothe I have on. In nakedness I run my gaze on every inch of my body as I delicately trace every curve with my fingers. From my cheekbones, chin, neck down to my chest, breasts, tummy and thighs in familiarity. All my life I've tried so hard to hide my flaws and in doing that, I've not been true to myself. These flaws are the real me and they're okay. My skin is sometimes dry and sometimes oily and that's okay. The acne I've tried so hard to hide and cover is okay. The pores are okay. The dark circles are okay. The discoloration is okay. The texture is okay because these are what makes my skin alive. There's nothing wrong with my skin. Accepting my flaws mean staying true and real to myself. I'm looking forward to the days I'll be able to look in the mirror and smile in pride at the woman staring back at me. Self love is a process and doesn't happen overnight. My wild heart and fierce spirit will lead me there, to the freedom of being me, truly me.
I've had a really good day today.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Putting the paint brush down, I stare at my final masterpiece only to burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. I decided to draw and paint today even though I'm not good at it. My painting of a blue butterfly looks nothing like a butterfly, instead it's more of a sloth. The paint is all over the canvas and it's messy. Some are smeared on my hands and on the shiny white marbles because I've been painting while sitting on the floor.
I stare at the blue butterfly once more, wondering what to do with it. Even though it's not a masterpiece like I expected it to be, it's still meaningful to me. It's my first painting after all, a bad painting. Hanging it on the wall, I admire it for a moment before cleaning the huge mess I've made on the floor.
The door bell rings, its chime echoing through the house and I hastily throw the paint brushes on the table going to open the door. Swinging it open, Lucas gazes at me from head to toe before laughing hysterically. "Did you jump in a pool of paint." he manages to utter between fits of laughter, his voice strained with mirth. "You look like a clown. Infact calling you a clown is an insult to real clowns."
"Are you coming in or not?" I move away from the door and he steps inside, closing it behind him. Lucas and I agreed to check up on each other whenever we can. It doesn't matter the time or place, as long as we get to know how the other is doing. We're free to show up at each other's place anytime we want, call or text. A simple phone call asking how someone is doing and feeling can go a long way and make a big positive impact on the person's wellbeing.
We enter the study room and he sees the mess I've created in the name of painting. "I've been painting like the talented artist I am."
"Where is the painting?" He asks and I point at the blue butterfly painting hung on the wall.
"It's a blue butterfly."
Lucas then laughs at me but stops when I send him a scorching glare. Then he bursts into laughter this time, not holding back or caring about anything. Rolling my eyes I push him away, cleaning up the mess on the floor. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. What the hell is that shit, it looks nothing close to a butterfly."
"I hate you, I hope you know that." I point at him in annoyance and he laughs harder. Holding out my middle fingers at him and flipping him off, he does the same, winking at me.
"Yes chipmunk, I'm aware that you hate me." He smirks and I roll my eyes again. I think I'm going to be doing that alot when he's around.
"Okay let's do this." I point at the pencils and paint earger to challenge him. "Draw and paint a blue butterfly right now."
I'm aware he's excellent in drawing and painting.
Lucas picks the canvas and coloured pencils with confidence as I move away to give him the needed space. "Challenge accepted. I'm painting a small one for now, a big one takes a lot of time."
He starts sketching the butterfly, his hand moving with a deliberate grace, tracing each delicate line and curve. The pencil glides across the canvas, leaving behind faint, ethereal marks that gradually take shape. His movements are slow and intentional, as if he's caressing the canvas and coaxing the butterfly into existence. His focus is unwavering, his mind fully immersed in the creative process. The world around him has faded into the background, replaced by a singular intensity directed sorely to his artwork. The noise of the outside world has now become distant whispers as if muted by an invisible hand. I've never watched an artist at work and in his element, this is the first time and it's beyond intriguing.
Lucas's eyes are fixed on the butterfly, studying each and every detail. He observes every contour and every vein of the delicate wings. His gaze is both analytical and appreciative, capturing the essence of the butterfly's form in his mind's eye. With each stroke of the pencil, he breathes life into the canvas, giving birth to a stunning representation of nature's ephemeral beauty. As he reaches for the paintbrush, his hand moves with purposeful precision. The bristles of the brush gently dip into the pool of blue paint, absorbing its hue. He lifts it and the excess paint drips back into the pallete, leaving behind a trail of azure droplets. The brush hovers momentarily above the canvas, as if seeking a moment of connection before it descends.
With a steady hand, he begins to apply the paint to the sketch. The brush glides across the surface, leaving behind trails of lustrous blue pigment that blend and merge, mimicking the intricacies of the butterfly's wings. He varies the pressure, creating subtle gradients and textures and capturing the play of light and shadow. The blue butterfly comes alive, its wings dancing and fluttering across the canvas as if ready to take flight. It's so beautiful and realistic. "There you go, a blue butterfly." Lucas states moving away from his masterpiece.
"It's beyond beautiful and fascinating." I can't bring myself to look away from the painting. The shadows, lights and textures included make it more realistic and amazing. There's nothing as fascinating as this art. Watching him at work is a mesmerizing experience. The passion and dedication he pours into his craft is palpable, drawing me into a world where colours and lines intertwine to create something truly remarkable. When Lucas is painting, time becomes irrelevant as you get lost in his creation, witnessing the birth of a masterpiece right before your eyes.
"Since you like it so much, you can keep it." Lucas offers and I clap my hands happily, hugging him and going back to admiring the painting. "You need a shower, there's paint all over you." He points out something I'm already aware of. I take a shower changing my clothes before joining him in the kitchen. "Since you've been learning how to cook, make a snack, something edible that we can eat." He suggests as he munches on an apple. "I know you can come up with something. I'll eat it, I promise."
I can only stare at him cluelessly, nothing coming to mind. The memory of my failed attempt at preparing french toasts still lingers in my mind, haunting me like a culinary nightmare. Finally a light bulb illuminates the dim recesses of my mind and I grab a glass filling it with water and adding a handful of ice cubes, handing it to him. "You're joking right?" He blinks rapidly trying to process what I've just done as he stares at the glass of water and then at me. "You still don't know how to cook anything?"
"If I cook, the food comes out too salty, spicy, burnt, undercooked or overcooked. Not a good motivation to keep on trying." I admit and he sighs.
Lucas drinks the water putting the glass on the kitchen counter. Then he opens one of the cabinets only for snacks to fall on his head, a cascade of chips, cookies and pretzels raining down on him. Swearing under his breath, he furrows his brows, brushing off the stray crumbs clinging to his hair and clothes. "I didn't know how to arrange the snacks in the cabinets so I just stuffed them inside. Sorry for the snack assault on your head." I whisper in embarrassment.
Lucas just stares at me, clearly not knowing what to say to me now as he studies me with a critical squint. "Mia are you willing to learn how to do all these things or do you want to continue throwing them everywhere in the kitchen and ordering takeout for all your meals?" His voice resounding with authority surprises me. He isn't joking with me anymore like he was doing before. This is the first time I'm seeing this authoritative side of him.
"I'm willing to learn how to cook and do every other thing. So I can stop throwing items around in the kitchen." I laugh softly at the last part only to halt once I notice Lucas's stern face.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
AUTHOR'S RANT.
Question of the chapter.
♥️️WHAT'S ONE THING YOU DON'T TOLERATE IN A RELATIONSHIP?♥️
Ava's floral dress