Dressed in same blue jeans and shirt with a denim jacket above it, she walked with full confidence beneath the cloudy grey sky. Her wrist glistening with a white watch displaying the long hand on 12 and the short one on 5. Her face embedded in smirk and eager eyes, examined the red truck parked in the other end coughing out the smoke and looking at her walk with each foot in front of each.
When she came near, she opened the polished, sparkling door and jumped in.
"Ready? I bought us rolls." And she bounced one towards the old man who bowed his head in thanks.
They rode in silence. The Munich streets busy in their own world but alert at the same time. The wind swirling against the white capped trees of January and playing with her boxer plates.
The grey cloudy sky protecting her and her mysterious mind. The people of Munich guarding her silence and then old man in red jersey shirt observing her spot and calm face.
The large black fences of the marbled house stopped their journey and the coughing engine of the red truck heaved a sigh of relief. "Here you are." He said, applying breaks. He dropped out of the truck and opened the door for Minha who smiled at his gesture of kindness. "Thank you!"
"My pleasure." He said, smiling. She was nervous and he knew it but none of them admitted it. At this very moment, Min needed her Kay who could help her. A girl wearing a lot of pigtails, brown skin, and a silver jacket, boosting up her confidence level at every stage. She missed her. But her Kay was still mad at her.
Jerking away all the thoughts away, she focused on the thing which was about to happen. "Okay, let's go." And then they walked to the large iron fences and rung the bell. A young guard opened the door. He had a moustache on his face and a weird over grown beard. She gasped in the air. "Mr. Harris?" he asked with enthusiasm. Harris nodded and the guard opened the door wide to give them way.
The gigantic fairytale house with the garden dressed with multiple fake butterflies around the tall marble building standing, all proud. She bit her lower lips and tried not to get offended by the vastness of beauty there.
They walked on the white floor to the drawing room, specifically preserved for special guests meetings. The tall lighted Chinese's Fanoos hanging down from the ceiling and showering their golden dust on extremely expensive Sofas and glass table.
She was deep in awe of the infrastructure of this part of the huge house, that she didn't notice, Sir Maclean following in behind her.
"Have a seat, Miss Minha." He said, resting his arms against the crowns of the Sofas. She sat beside Harris. A maid walked in with a trolley set up with luxuries sweets, biscuits, desserts, chicken and sweet drinks. Her growling stomach begged her to attach the trolley, but she inhaled and pressed it so hard against her abs that they didn't growl again.
A woman embraced in lot of diamonds around her fingers and ear and a heavy jewelry set upon her neck, wearing a bodycon, tightly hugging her figure and showing off her curves and a mini coat above it on her shoulders walked in with carelessness from the rest of the world. She was wearing a blonde tight bun over her head dressed with white roses. Her face laced with makeup. She looked pretty like a Queen in the fake mask. She thought.
"Mrs. Maclean. Warm greetings!" she said standing up. She brought her one hand forward but the gracious women hugged her tightly. "You look convincing, little mouse." Her cheeks flushed and she but he lower lips nervously. They took their places and she began.
"I, uh, am the artist of 'the nightmare'. Doctor Harris told me that you were not pleased by my idea." She said, firmly. She was nervous and hesitating. But there was no game in losing. Mrs. Maclean who was sitting with her right leg above her left knee and tight facial expressions with a glistening red smile, nodded.
"So, I present here, to convey my idea. To make sure that we all are looking through the same lens." She said, licking her dry lips. The Maclean couple nodded. They were waiting for something special.
"The story emphasizes upon long lost love of the lover by his own hands in the times when he was helpless. When he had nothing under his control and the decade took away everything from him. The painting portrait the feeling of helplessness, guilt and regrets-"she was saying when she saw Mrs. Maclean yawning and her Mister looking at his watch again and again, waiting for the half hour to pass away.
She felt awkward and uneasy. She gasped at Harris. He was staring at her, raising her eyebrows and making a –told you so- expression. She pursed her lips.
"Actually," she cleared her voice and started talking in raised voice, "If you let the painting in auction, I might paint the fancy daisies in your art gallery this very year in February for your daughter's birthday. Your daughter, Siena demands a brilliant artist to paint the fancy daisies in her art gallery and I am ready to do so. This way your daughter may come back to your house and may not be upset." She was saying confidently.
She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes ta the couple, "I am a qualified artist and this is not the only offer I am getting. The national department of Art Gallery is ready to take this piece of nightmare for their show. I might actually consider-"
She knew she had grasped the attention of the couples who were now sitting forward in their places. And then they stood up, cheering.
"You know about Siena?" they asked. They looked joyed. Mrs. Maclean came forward and hugged her thrice, kissing barely on her cheeks. "Oh my God, how do you know about the daisies?" she asked. Her red cheeks flushing with delight.
"Siena and I are Twitter friends and she tweeted about the daisies once. So, I discussed this with her. Still want to deny my selection in Auction?" she asked. She was jumping with delight inside but she couldn't show.
"Of course, dear. Of course." But she pointed out her finger and stopped her, "One condition." She said. And then looked over her shoulder to the old man who was looking at her proudly. "He deserved double prize for bringing me here." And Mister Maclean shook hands with her, "Deal."
She but her lower lips beneath her teeth and was walking proudly in front of the old man who was laughing continuously at her acting. "Now, do I prove myself, Doctor Harris?" she was saying with sarcasm and he as chuckling continuously. "Definitely, Miss."
"You owe me, now. Half of your prize is mine." She said.
"And half of your auction prize is mine." he said. She made a face. "Keep your prize. I don't care." But then she jumped with delight. "Omg, Harris, you old man. I am finally going to Pakistan! You don't know how much this means to me. I have to win this at a very high rate and then BOOM! I fly to Pakistan." She was screaming with delight while running on the snowy slopes of Munich who was swirling and playing with her fragile and light body. Her boxer plates still neatly done in blonde laces. Her face pale with joy.
The sky was still grey and the clock struck 6. The red truck stood in front of them and they walked back to it. Minha was quiet.
"What's up with your mind, miss?" he asked opening the door of the truck.
"I still have to make my friend. She is made at me. She deserves to be. I can't celebrate this without her." She said, standing against the door. Then she turned and faced the old man. "You drive home. I am going to take a cab to Zoe's house." The old man didn't argue. He knew how this meant to her.
The engine coughed black smoke in Munich's air and drove away leaving Minha walking on the sidewalks.
She dialed Kay's number. The bell rung, but she didn't pick up.
"You have to pick up, Kay. There is no way I am giving up today." She muttered to herself.
Then she dialed the call again.
And again. And again. And again.
And at last, someone picked up, but didn't say anything.
"Kay," she paused as if feeling her presence at the other end. "I know you are upset, you should be." She sighed. "I am bitch. I ditched you. I didn't know you were protecting me against the Eve's group. I swear, if I would have known, if my life wouldn't have been messed up, I- you know what? It doesn't matter. Let's fix it, Kay. I miss you. I miss the part of me that is gone. I don't feel celebration without you. And there is dark everywhere. Kay, please, say something." Her vice got teary, but she didn't cry. Someone remained silent on the other end.
"Kay, please say something." But before she could say something, someone hit her on the head, hard. But the pain was deadly, it wasn't taking control of her senses. She was alright. She twisted her neck and searched for the attacker. She took a few steps forward hearing a crunch beneath her feet. She bent down and picked up the leave, with xoxo written on it with pink lipstick. Her tears started walking down silently and she exclaimed with joy looking at the figure wearing silver jacket, long pigtails and brown skin. She stood up and hugged her tightly than ever as if she would never let her go. "I am sorry." She murmured. "I know." And she said it this time. Whispered it only in her ear as she was the keeper of her words. They were crying and the Munich's trees and flowers and snow was crying too. Even the sky cried. And soaked them in wet.