The halls are brimming of screams and filled with the releases of endorphins. Mobs of euphoric crowds jostle and push each other to get a closer look. You would have thought that the airport guards can only roll their eyes mentally and complain to the gods why they have to take up this job. But no, they too, are elated and proud for they know they are helping me.
Carmelo Ilocia.
Carmelo Ilocia, the babe of the world. Her alluring face made the front of every magazine, any videos, and interviews related to her break every record in that little green book of the Guinness. She was an actress, top model, and an artist. Carmelo had the busiest schedule in the entertainment circle, yet everyone wants her on their party despite the scary rocket high price.
By then, 22, she had won Artist of the Year, Golden Disc Award, MTV Europe Music Award, Mnet Asian Music Award, etc etc. She even got nominated for MAMA and the Grammys the previous year, and she had only debuted for two years.
Two years, and she was already at the top of the food chain in the artists' world.
Oh, I am no longer that young little girl, ever since my hands were dirtied, there's no turning back. Instead, I became the manipulator of hearts. Dominator of minds and souls.
I am their master, for their lives can only revolve around me. Their orbits are circulating around me. And me only. I love it. I adore this control.
I brush back a strand of hair from my eyes and wave at my fans and earn another wave of desired gooey eyes and screams for my name, for my blessing for me. Oh, how I adore this game.
My boots crunching the melting snow from last night and push the rims of my large sunglasses up, my driver, Arthur guiding me to their parking slot where a Mercedes G-Wagon is waiting for me. He opened the door for me and closes it swiftly, not wanting further prying of our privacy.
"Oh goodness, Karl, sit up this instant." I throw a cheeky grin at Aunt Leen who's typing furiously on her laptop while I pull a piece of tissue from my purse.
As expected, the leather seats are mantled by his drool. Karmen Ilocia Winters, the 22-year-old, push himself up from the seats, rubbing his brown chocolatey eyes groggily.
"Ugh f*cks man, I was having a fantastic dream!" He mumbles, blinking a few times as he adjusts to the new view.
"Oh, so your dream is much more important than me? Are you implying that, young man?" I ruffle his platinum blond hair and reach into my bag for a comb to tidy his messy head.
"Awww, Mel! I miss you! Come on here and let me give you a hug!" After rubbing his eyes until I am sure the eyeballs will be dropping out any sooner, he finally returned to earth.
"Geez, so tell me, how's school?" Karl freezes mid-air as he was going to pounce on me.
"Heh... you know, nothing much, sweetie." He beams brightly- too brightly that it blinds my eyes- oh Apollo, God of the Sun please outshine him.
Just kidding.
Aunt Leen looks up from her laptop, "Mel, would you like a short break before receiving your schedule? You will be very busy the next few weeks, there's an advertisement shoot with Baskin Robbins and a few more photoshoots, there is a fashion show by Chanel that you are to participate in, there are 6 more interviews and more concerts. Lastly, you will be shooting a movie for two months. You could take some time off from China's tour." She smiles reassuringly, "don't worry, you won't lose money during your breaks."
Oh, she got me right there. They know how money-hungry I am. Since everything I have gone through, I have decided that money, wealth, means status and power. You will never be looked down again, no one will abuse you, at least not physically. They say that emotional abuse is worse than physical ones. But that's because they have never experienced those real physical abuses. Those when you bleed till you faint, those injuries when you could no longer stand up and feel like your nerves will be bursting from the immense agony.
It has never been easy though. The process of stepping on others' failures and stupidity and their pliant hearts was never a walk in the park. It is excruciating still. But, at least you have food. Water. And money. Loads of money. And I am satisfied. What else am I even lacking?
+++++++++++
Seeing the black Mercedes drive off from my private apartment in one of those 'golden land' in New York, I lift the blue cerulean suitcase effortlessly into the lift and push the '59' button. I barely brought anything since I change my outfits every season and I have my own clothes in this apartment. So there literally isn't much to bring. Stepping out from the perfumed lift, sinking my boots onto the soft blood-red carpet along the long corridor, I pause a second to admire the beautiful golden swirls on the sparkling walls and make my way towards my suite.
It has been so long since I have been here.
The mahogany door welcomes me as it swings open to the identification of my face.
Flipping on all the lights, my heart nearly flipped out of my ribcage.
There is a god, in my humble abode. Behind my humble doors.
"Good afternoon, I am Dionysus, sorry for disturbing you and violating your privacy, but please be silent for a few moments." His dark green eyes flashed dangerously under that polite tone, as if daring me to object him while he grabs my arms into the living room and shuts the door gently.
Oh, he's a man.
Nice knowing.
Robber.