Dior
As Twinbrook fell asleep, Lucky Palms was still enjoying the final moments of sunshine in the day. The sun was deemed too hot in the afternoon, raising the temperature to almost 45ºc by noon, turning the residents into almost vampires retreating into their lairs. Palms trees swayed as the gentle summer breeze whisked through the valley, almost like a perfect wind machine that constantly blew in the exact direction. It makes sense for the land of the rich and famous. The Hills were the only parts of the city that had the most exquisite and most divine luxury of
Grass. That wasn't dead.
And it is here in the Hills, where scandal runs rampant, like rapids, through the streets. Around every corner, there's an affair, or scandal, or secret baby, or even murder, but I'm just getting ahead of myself. In some cases, however, family ties still run deep
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The soft sound of piano filled the house. Although Cleo had just started learning, it was as if she had been playing all her life. It seemed she could achieve anything. She had become a certified international superstar, gained a permanent place in both the Lucky Palm's elite, but also the fastest growing local business to date, the movie industry. Nothing could possibly deter her, she was on top. Of course, that is what you see from the outlook. From within, she was experiencing an inner turmoil far deeper than anyone could imagine. The loss of her son last year had lead her into a personal spiral, which had been confined only to herself; Not seen by the public, not seen by her lovers, not seen by her own daughter. A part of her had melted away, and her only escape was music and the devil's juice. Taking one last sip of her wine, she sighed and played one last note. B.
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Her melody was not the only to be heard in the house that night. This house was special in a way. It was the newest one in the neighbourhood, being specially designed for Cleo, and featured a sunken garden hidden from prying eyes. Perhaps the most amazing was the medical marvel of an Imaginary friend turned real by none other than Vivienne Dior. Although it seems she regrets it now.
'It just sounds like banging Cosmo', she joked, laying on her bed, almost gawking at her roommate like a groupie with backstage access.
'Well, Viv, I'll have you know, that's high-key what drumming is', he chucked to himself and continued on with his practise. Cosmo had felt ,as a way to distract Vivienne from her other thoughts, that drumming was the only way to grab her attention. It's not common for the girl to give her undying attention to the drummer of the band, over the guitarist or the lead singer, but Cosmo seemed to have the glint in his eye that always intrigued Vivienne. It didn't help that they shared a room, with the move from her other house leading to a size downgrade, she felt more and more close to Cosmo, in both an emotional and literal sense.
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She rolled her eyes, and got up from her bed. She looked at the waves of heat escaping the ground, as if the outside world was in a haze. She turned to look at the pool, only to close her eyes and feel something she usually never feels, vulnerability. The pool must be filled in, she thought, I can't bear it anymore. She touched the glass and turned to listen to the banging of the drums.
It had gotten late, but for Cleo, it was the only time she could venture without the paparazzi's attention. She left a salad and a note for Vivienne and sneaked off in her Bwan Speedster down the streets of the Palms. The night had brought a refreshing coolness to the valley. The wind had been replaced with a winter breeze from the North. It was as if you could smell the smog of a little town that Cleo had never heard of in the air. Racing through the streets, she made her stop for the night. Cleo had expanded to seek comfort from many others around her, but she always went back to one man in her life. And that man, was Donnovan Steel. His blue eyes and copper hair allured her into his arms. He was her normal, in her otherwise hectic life. But of course, life would be boring if everything went correctly, and the tabloids heard it before her. 'Yolanda Shaw and Police Officer Engaged to be Married, Rumours of a Shotgun Wedding?'. Cleo vowed to never trust him, but here she was, visiting a newly single Steel, in the dead of night.
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They grew closer as the night grew darker. A bond so deep and passionate, you can never break it. Vivienne was a product of this, and if anything, she is the embodiment of their relationship. Irresistible, beautiful, with a side of cunning and deceit. Donnovan was laying low after his divorce with Yolanda, and Cleo couldn't bear another scandal to hit the press, so their rekindling stayed secret. Their love stayed solely in each other's houses; Like a precious artefact. That was what Cleo had always wanted, a fairytale romance with a dashing prince. They never say how fragile the foundation those stories were wrote on.
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The deed was done and Lucky Palms grew silent for the night. 00:01 the clock glared and Cleo sighed and turned to face her lover. She closed her eyes and Donnovan finally saw the cracks in her flawless, movie-star skin. The cracks of heartbreak. Of betrayal. Of death. He now saw her as who she was. A woman mourning the loss of her youth, her stability, and her son. In this moment he thought,
Why worry about the future, when there is still so much of the past to uncover.
