~Beauty~
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad, prospero ano y felicidad
Bethany jolted up in her bed. The alarm clock music was playing a lot louder than she had intended it to but since it was Christmas, she let it slide. She got up out of bed and did the salsa around her room. She swayed her hips to the music, shifting her weight between her feet and stepping them back to the rhythm like her father had taught her to. She was feeling extra energetic this morning.
Someone cleared their throat.
Teigan was leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. She let her hair fall into her face to cover her blush. It had grown significantly since she was first brought there and almost touched her hips.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Oh, only long enough to see you’ve got some smooth moves,” he teased. She noticed he wasn’t wearing his usual black hoodie or rock shirt but a checkered flannel and jeans.
"What can I say? My father was a good dancer. What about you? Got any smooth moves?"
He shook his hand. “No, not at all. More like two left feet.”
The two of them had spent the last two weeks playing all of the board games he owned millions of times. They had both decided that their favorite was Scrabble since it was the hardest to get tired of. Jenga was a close second because of how serious Teigan got. When the tower of blocks came crashing down he’d close his eyes and sigh - unlike Bethany who’s reaction was far more explosive with shouting and hollering. It balanced out the experience.
When they weren’t playing board games they were rating rock music together. They’d find an artist and listen to all the songs on their albums and give opinions on each track, deciding at the end what they thought of the whole collective piece. After a few times, Teigan deduced she had an alternative rock preference and created a new playlist for her almost daily. She’d be lying if she said he hadn’t changed her perspective on the whole genre.
Lingering over them was the issue of breaking the curse. Turns out finding someone to save wan’t as easy as one might think. Teigan made multiple trips into the city, following leads and/or keeping watch on the more problematic streets. No opportunities presented themselves but Bethany encouraged him - saying that this gave him more time to work on the heart change. This way he was sure that once he did save someone, the curse would break.
Teigan left her to get ready for breakfast. She sorted through her draws for something to wear and her eyes landed on the ripped jeans she had been wearing the night she was taken. Her bright eyes dimmed as she remembered she was missing
Christmas in New York City. It would be the first Christmas she didn’t spend at home. Then she felt a weird sensation come on as she realized - as scary as it was to admit - that in the last week or two the house she had viewed as a prison felt like a home.
She found herself sitting on the edge of her bed thinking about her last Christmas. There was something about the holidays that made her sentimental in the worst and best of ways.
She had woken up at noon from a long night of watching holiday specials with her mother. They had fallen asleep on the couch sometime between the ending of The Grinch and the beginning of The Polar Express. Her mother's plaid wool blanket was sliding off the side of the couch due to her absence so Bethany assumed she'd woken up first and was washing up.
She scanned the kitchen cupboards trying to decide if she should have eggo waffles or a bowl of cereal. She thought she could probably make the waffles festive by making the whipped cream look like snow but the Captain Crunch was already Christmas themed with the special edition red and green pieces. She scratched her head, pensively.
Rushing footsteps came down the hall outside of her apartment. She went up to the peephole to see what the commotion was to see her mother come charging towards the door. She unlocked it and her mother came crashing in, slamming the door shut behind her.
“What are - ?”
Her mother shushed her, going through every single lock. She pressed her back against the door, squeezing her eyes shut and taking in big gulps of air. After a moment, she gazed into the peephole very carefully.
Beth lowered her voice. "What is going on?"
"Grab a knife from the kitchen, will you? A sharp one. Just in case . . ."
She obeyed due to the sternness of her mother's tone. It had to be the first time she used such authority with her in years. It was probably why her hands shook when she picked up the steak knife.
"Was someone chasing you?" She didn't wait for her mother to answer as her eyes widened to the size of the star on the Rockefeller Christmas tree. "Did you lead them back here?! To our home?!"
"Shh!" her mother hissed. She took the knife from her hands, eyes glued to the hole in the door. "I couldn't exactly go to the cops about it. A dealer I owe money was chasing me."
Her heart fell into her stomach. She wiped at her tearing eyes. "What were you doing out so early?"
She remained silent.
"Buying more drugs? On Christmas?"
"I've been clean for a whole week -"
"You couldn't let us have this one day? You couldn't wait one more day?" Her mother brought a finger to her lips.
"I'm sorry. I really tried." She turned to the peephole one more time. Deciding the coast was clear, she placed the knife back on the table. "Merry Christmas."
Bethany shook off the memory and decided against wearing the ripped jeans. When she headed downstairs she completely forgot about it. The air was different, very holiday like. It gave her the feeling you get when you know you're about to have a great day and you don't know if you want it to come sooner or hold it off so it'll last longer.
Carina was humming Christmas jingles to herself while setting up the table.
“Merry Christmas, darling!”
“Merry Christmas! Where's Teigan?” she asked, grabbing the forks.
Carina gave her a mischievous grin. “He’ll be here in a second.”
He came from outside a minute later while they were serving pancakes. He had a box in his hands that he placed on the side table next to the door. “Can I help with anything?”
“Pour us some hot chocolate, will you?”
Soon they were all seated at the table, discussing the various Christmas movies they had seen. Bethany zoned out of the conversation, just watching the two’s faces. The manner in which the skin around Carina’s mouth wrinkled when she smiled, the way Teigan’s laugh made his Adam’s apple bounce. They were happy and the holidays weren’t the sole reason.
She snapped out of her haze as Teigan took the can of whipped cream and sprayed it directly into his mouth.
It was more common to catch him smiling or laughing. In fact, she knew exactly how it sounded now. He was constantly checking up on her and asking if she needed anything. He’d even help Carina out with chores no matter how many times she insisted it was her job.
They finished up breakfast when Teigan pulled her to the side. “I have something to show you.” He grabbed the box he brought in earlier to her with a pep in his step. “It came a few days late so I didn’t have time to wrap it but . . . here you go.”
She pulled the contents out of the box. It was a book but not just any book. She recognized the highly advertised symbol of the fantasy series on the cover and the letters typed out across it came together to form the title. It was the last book in her favorite series. The book appeared so out of place in her hands with Teigan’s house in the background. It was like a melding of two worlds. This book belonged in the dimension where Beth didn’t think real magic existed - where she didn’t know Teigan or Carina.
“How did you know?” The phrase was a cliche in the gift giving universe but Bethany was actually curious.
He shrugged. “You talk a lot.”
Apparently so much she couldn’t remember what she said. She turned the book over, removing the jacket to see the crossed sword and dragon logo on the bare front. For this edition, the symbol was on fire. She remembered how anxious she was for the release, how much time she spent reading and re-reading the series, following the author on all social media just in case she announced something, finding fellow fans and even taking ridiculous Buzzfeed quizzes on which character she was most like. She had started the series several years ago and at the release of each book she was in such different times of her life. It felt surreal to her that this final book had matched up to the point in which she was living out a story worth writing itself.
“Thank you,” she said. “This means more than you know.”
A paper fluttered off of the backside of the box. Teigan picked it up and his eyebrows immediately dropped down to his eyes. She watched as he rushed to every window on the first floor, looking through them and then pulling the curtains shut.
“What’s wrong?” She shuttered, feeling a tingle on the back of her neck. It was the sensation a person got when someone was watching them.
Carina emerged from the doorway, totally oblivious to the change in tone. “Why is it so dark in here?”
He brought the note to her, still gazing over his shoulder for danger. “Read this. It was attached to the box.”
Bethany squinted at the ripped piece of looseleaf. The handwriting was messy. It reminded her of Grayson’s assignments when he did them last minute.
I wonder if the police know that the Beast is an actual beast. Tell me, are you even human?
“I’m assuming you didn’t have anyone deliver this here so . . . “
Tegian cursed under his breath. “We left it out in the mailbox last night so you wouldn't find it. Someone had to have walked all the way up to the front lawn to place it there.”
Beth sat down on the couch, taking a deep breath. “This person knows where you live.”
Where she currently lived.
A million thoughts raced around her head. If this person knew where the famous Beast lived, did they also know that the kidnapped Bethany was there with him? Did they know his identity? By the sound of the note, this person was not interested in justice. If they were they would have called the cops and that would be the end of it - an abrupt ending that Bethany had once longed for. She couldn’t imagine what would happen to Teigan if he was caught, especially because of his appearance.
Teigan was pacing the room, pale blue eyes darting around like a tiger in a cage.
“What are we going to do? I mean, you said you were working on mov -”
He hushed her by placing his finger to his lips. “Be careful what you say. They might be listening.”
A comment on how paranoid he was being evaporated from her lips as she reminded herself that he was used to these kinds of things. Maybe it was never this severe but he definitely knew better than her. She got goosebumps and found her own eyes darting around the house.
The front door rattled and an envelope fell through the mail slot. Teigan ran to the door and opened it - only to be greeted by a rush of cold air.
Beth jumped to her feet. "Be careful!"
Teigan stepped outside, closing the door behind him. She supposed it was good for him to go after whoever was stalking him so he could bring it to an end but she couldn’t stop herself from wishing he would have just stayed away from the trouble. Carina caught her gaze.
“If he isn’t back in a few minutes, we’ll go out there with a kitchen knife and my giant frying pan,” she said with a soft smile. Bethany somberly returned it and reached for the envelope that had fallen on the ground. It had no address or stamp on it. Inside was a gold and white invitation that read,
Secundocasu Museum Art Department
Congratulations! You and a guest have been invited to attend a masquerade ball to celebrate the new gallery opening at Secundocasu Museum. We hope to see you there.
On the back side was the address of the museum and attached were two tickets for the twenty eighth.
The door opened and in came Teigan looking as disappointed as ever. “I couldn’t find anyone.” He nodded at the invitation. “What does it say?”
Before Bethany could answer, ringing filled the air. She turned to the home phone on the fireplace mantel in the living room. They all stared at it, unmoving.
“No one ever calls that phone anymore,” Teigan said. “I didn’t even know it still worked.” He moved closer to it but made no attempt to answer it. When the ringing stopped, he picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons.
“Whoever it was left a voicemail.”
“Hello, Beast,” the voice belonged to an older male. “Or perhaps we could be less formal. May I address you as Teigan? This is Tyler Daniels the brother of Ryan Daniels whom you murdered.”
Bethany covered her face with her hands. What were the chances that Ryan Daniels had a brother who was equally - if not more crazy than himself?
“I’m not going to let you get away with whatever it was you did to him and I’m not going to turn you in because what do the cops have on you, anyways? You’re too squeaky clean. You don’t leave any evidence that would convict you of murder. Not even in your shed or garden. I’d know because I checked. Yet, we all know you kill.”
Teigan’s head whipped in the direction of the backyard. His face wrinkled into a snarl.
“I gave you an invitation to an art gallery in three days. You are going to attend. Don’t worry, it’s a masquerade so that face of yours won’t be a problem. If you don’t meet me there, I will meet you here.” He took a long pause and the phone picked up the sounds of rustling. She pictured him walking through the forest, gazing back at the house in triumph.
“I see you’re not alone and it would bring me much joy to make you feel what it’s like to lose someone you care about.”
~The Hunter~
In a perfect world, Grayson could show the magical roses to the police and they would use them to discover who the Beast was and the location of his secret layer. They’d bust the bad guy and Bethany would be there - unharmed, hair flowing in the wind, running into Grayson’s arms never to leave them again. However, reality - no matter how skewed it was - hit him hard. It barely gave him time to enjoy his discovery. It told him that if he showed these roses to anybody - they’d be more concerned with the magic than what they could do to help him find Beth.
It was another dead end. It was another lead that got his hopes up only to drop them through the floor and down into the dirt.
Christmas came and his family celebrated as if it was just another Christmas. How could he blame them? It was for them. They hadn’t lost their best friend.
He was distant the whole day and his family had gotten so used to it that no one bothered him as he spent the majority of the day out in the front lawn, daydreaming and losing feeling in his fingers - no one except Jason who came out to ask for his help assembling a toy he’d gotten. Grayson had gotten so wrapped up in assembling the plastic battleship, he almost missed the gray car that was cruising by his house . . . the third time it circled the block.
He only recognized it because he had followed it with Mrs.Rodriguez to the clearing in the woods where Ryan Daniels, the Beast, and Bethany had been. He dropped the toy - getting a complaint out of his little brother - and ran over to the vehicle. The detective couldn’t hide his face from him. He had been spotted.
“Hey! What are you doing outside my house?!”
Brendan stepped on the gas, turning his cruise into a high speed break out.
“Stay away from me!” he yelled as the car got tinier in the distance. Grayson’s first thought was that perhaps the detective was suspicious of him. Then he remembered Bethany’s case had little to do with him. He also remembered the threat he had issued to him - warning him to stay out of the investigation. He had done the opposite of that. Detective Brendan could have easily found out he visited the Beast’s old apartment. The question was why he was keeping his eyes on Grayson now. Was it to ensure he wouldn’t mess up the investigation or to hold the end of his threat? Would the detective hurt him if it came down to it? And why would he be willing to?
A tiny voice in his head asked if he was being paranoid. It reminded him of what he did to Carter. It urged him to take therapy more seriously, to back away from the ledge.
Grayson had spotted Carter in the hallway the final day of classes. His stomach lurched a little less violently at the sight of the purple bruise around his eye than he expected it to. His friend made a beeline for him and without a word or warning, Carter brought his own first into Grayson’s nose.
“Stay away from me, Gray.” He spoke so only the two of them could hear but he still felt ashamed. “You left me for dead in that car so now you’re dead to me.”
He chose not to think about this anymore. The damage was already done. There was no sense in reliving it.
The mailman going up his house steps was a welcome distraction for him. The man had a single shoulder sling bag - not a bag on wheels like his usual one did.
“Isn’t the post office closed on Christmas?” he asked, eyeing the man reaching into his bag.
“Yes.”
Grayson raised an eyebrow.
“Here you go.” Nevertheless, the man had pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. “This is a special delivery.”
He took it, wearily.
To: Grayson Li
From: Secundocasu Museum Art Department
Congratulations! You and a guest have been invited to attend a masquerade ball to celebrate the new gallery opening at Secundocasu Museum. We hope to see you there.
He was just about ready to rip it up - he was in no party mood - when a tiny yellow note fluttered out from the envelope's pocket. He caught it, turning it around to find a note scribbled onto it.
Beware, this was sent to you for a reason. You have
Entertained the idea of the extraordinary and for
That I will reward you with this. I
Hand you the chance to
Amend things. Attend this event and
No longer will you grieve.
You will find who you are looking for.
The mailman was long gone. He jogged up and down his block to find him and he was nowhere to be seen. There was no chance of probing him for information then.
Grayson entertained the idea that maybe this note was an ad for the event or the new exhibit. It was just vague enough to be. Art events were full of the abstract and weird so why wouldn’t they include a cryptic poem with their invitations to encourage people to go?
Nevertheless, whether it was from paranoia or not, Grayson’s mind wanted to think that someone somewhere had the knowledge of where to find Bethany and this event was it.
He had entertained the idea of the extraordinary when he discovered the rose garden. He had grieved time and time again after Bethany. She was he was looking for.
He read the note over and over. That was when he noticed the format of the writing. It wasn’t a poem - just oddly spaced. The lines were cut mid sentence, the first letter of each line capitalized. He went down the first letter of each row.
His breath caught in his throat.
Bethany. The letters spelled out Bethany