"Justin, my beloved," a mellifluous voice sang tenderly to him. "Come to me, Justin. I'm here, waiting for you. Waiting for you to see me, to see only me. Come to me, Justin. I await your presence."
It was his enigmatic muse, beckoning to him once more with her alluring voice, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
He found himself in the woods, pursuing her with every ounce of his being. The scent of pine trees and the sweet fragrance of orange blossoms filled the air, enticing his senses. The sky stretched above in a brilliant azure expanse, while a gentle breeze brushed over his already damp skin, offering a soothing respite.
She appeared tantalizingly close, her long, raven-black hair billowing in the wind. He reached out, his fingers grazing the silk of her white scarf that floated behind her, tantalizingly close, when she gracefully turned a bend and skipped away. She playfully concealed herself behind a tree, her face partially veiled from his view, attempting to steal glimpses of him as he pursued her. A solitary giggle escaped her lips before she vanished deeper into the thick of the woods.
"You're too slow, Justin," her voice echoed through the picturesque forest. "Run faster. Find me, Justin."
He pushed himself to run as swiftly as he could, trying to bridge the gap while she skipped at her own languid, melodic pace. Yet, no matter how fast he sprinted, he could never catch up.
He yearned for her, to capture her, to be with her. His heart compelled him to pursue her, its rhythm quickening in time with his hastening footsteps. Then, he reached a clearing, a breathtaking meadow adorned with scattered trees and an abundance of vibrant flowers.
There she sat, perched upon a swing woven from vines, her back turned to him. He approached silently, crouched down, and encircled the small of her waist with his arms. Nestling his head in her fragrant hair, he inhaled the intoxicating blend of orange blossom and pine that fueled his desire.
"Justin, my beloved," his muse murmured. "You've found me."
"Yes, my enigmatic muse. I've finally found you," he replied.
His mysterious muse, exquisite and sweet, made his hand tremble as he tenderly parted her hair, revealing her graceful neck. He kissed her there, gently, with small kisses tracing the curve of her nape, drawing a soft, pleasure-filled moan from her lips.
His desire for her became an overwhelming force, impossible to contain. He needed to confess the feelings that resided in his heart. So, he placed his hand beneath her chin and slowly turned her around, only to be met with—
"Amy?"
"Damn it!" Justin cursed, suddenly jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like the rhythm of African drums. "Not again."
It was that recurring dream, haunting him incessantly since his return from Queenstown—the pursuit of his mysterious muse, her enchanting calls, and the disheartening revelation that she transformed into Amy, of all things, the avocado.
Each time he awoke, the same sensations overwhelmed him—sticky perspiration, soaked sheets, and an overwhelming fatigue, as if he had run a marathon in his sleep.
In his dreams, his goddess took on various forms, donning white and red dresses, her hair cascading down to her waist or elegantly styled in a chignon. The scenery shifted accordingly, from woodlands to beaches and urban cities, yet the central theme remained constant: his relentless pursuit of her.
Justin rubbed his drowsy, bloodshot eyes, his two-week-old stubble casting him in a rather unkempt light. "Horrible," he muttered, a word that aptly described his current state. "Awful." He felt like a caveman, weighed down by the relentless dream. He knew he had to take action. Moreover, he hadn't been home in over two weeks, despite frequent calls from his father and Kyle, urging him to visit their estate in the North Shore. Instead, he chose seclusion in his Central Chicago townhouse.
The dream wasn't solely to blame for his disheveled appearance and lack of energy, though it certainly played its part. The other culprit was Michelle. Since their departure from Queenstown, she had persistently called him, a stark contrast to the quiet, unassuming girl he once thought she was. It felt as if she were stalking him at every turn. Thankfully, she remained oblivious to his home address, sparing his sanctuary from being overrun by her presence.
"Her perfume," Justin grimaced at the memory. The overpowering scent was nothing short of olfactory warfare, assaulting his senses relentlessly. It would take days, if not weeks, for his receptors to recover from the onslaught. Still, he had to admit, being able to detect that perfume from twenty meters away did afford him the luxury of a hasty escape.
Shaking his head, he ruffled his increasingly unruly hair. Perhaps it was time for a haircut. He retrieved a hair tie from the top drawer and pulled his hair into a ponytail at the crown of his head. It was time to face the day, particularly since Kyle had requested a meeting at the hotel, and avoiding it was not an option.
The other day, his best friend Harold had surprised him with the shocking news of her pregnancy—absurd, considering they'd never been involved in an intimate relationship. Nonetheless, it had caused quite a stir among his father and Winton. Justin couldn't help but wonder how his traditional, old-fashioned cousin Kyle would react if he discovered that Harold was staying at their hotel for a full two months.
Feeling somewhat rejuvenated after a brisk morning shower, Justin prepared to confront the day. Before leaving, he picked up his cell phone, opened it, and stared at the wallpaper—a whimsical avocado. "What are you doing to me, Avocado?" he murmured, closing the phone and heading to his red Ferrari, intent on driving to the QueenHotel.
However, his journey was halted before it even began when his nosy neighbor, Janet Dennis, appeared. She blocked his path, her intrusive presence impossible to evade.
"Well, good morning, Justin, dear," Janet greeted with a saccharine smile. "What a splendid day it is, wouldn't you say? Care for a Mark?" She extended a plate of her freshly baked goods, leaning on the fence that demarcated their respective territories. If that fence didn't exist, Justin was convinced she'd be on his doorstep by now.
"No thanks, Janet," Justin replied with a courteous smile. "I'm in a bit of a rush. Meeting Kyle at the hotel."
"Oh, sweet and diligent Kyle. Such a hard worker, isn't he?" Janet gushed.
"Yes, he certainly is," Justin affirmed, pleased that Kyle was held in high regard.
"And you, the charming Casanova? Any new conquests with those irresistible looks of yours?"
Justin wanted to keep his personal life private, but instead of saying so, he simply smiled and responded, "None." With that, he hurriedly made his exit before Janet could delve further into his affairs or offer more of her homemade Marks. Justin suspected that if she continued indulging in those treats, she might need to change her last name from Dennis to Marks.
Once safely ensconced in his car, Justin began to drive, but then he abruptly slammed on the brakes, not due to a traffic violation but because he was lost in thought again. Had he been fantasizing? Had his recurring dreams led him to conjure her presence out of thin air? It couldn't be real. It had to be that avocado's influence. And why was she caressing her lips on the sidewalk as if entranced? Oh, no! The image of that kiss with Amy flooded his mind, and his heart raced uncontrollably.
"My goddess, where are you? Release me from this avocado-induced reverie. I need to see you again," Justin muttered, lowering his head onto the steering wheel, as if pleading for her presence. After a moment to calm his racing heart, he lifted his head and...
"Damn it! She's still there. The avocado," he growled, realizing that there was no escaping her.
Justin looked heavenward, wondering why she had to appear at this particular moment when he was already so confounded. Disgusted with his own reaction to a woman he had vowed never to fall for, he slammed his foot on the accelerator. Without sparing another glance at her, still in her trance-like state, gently touching her lips, he sped past her.
A few minutes later, he found himself stopping once more. He parked in front of a park and watched children playing with their parents, their laughter echoing around him. He saw but didn't see, heard but didn't hear, lost in his own thoughts. For once in his life, he was utterly unsure of what to do next.
"What's wrong with me?" Justin cursed himself. "And what the hell is wrong with her? Why is she here in my neighborhood?" He repeated these questions in his mind, searching for answers that remained elusive. There was only one way to find out. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he started the engine, shifted into reverse, and executed a U-turn.