JANE
Soft, golden light creeps over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the landscape. The world is bathed in a tranquil silence, as if nature itself is slumbering. The crisp, cold air invigorates the senses, refreshing the mind and body. As sunrise approaches, the sky transitions into hues of fuchsia, tangerine, and lavender, casting a warm glow on the scene.
The cold weather morning has a soothing effect, as if nature itself is resting, recharging for another day. By the ornate window, I stood, semi-nude and impervious to the chill. My gaze fell upon you outside, clutching a paper bag, fresh from the nearby bakery. The pandesal's warmth wafted through the air, tantalizing me. And how timely! My morning coffee still awaited.
As I swung open the wardrobe, a sea of white long-sleeves unfolded before me. No hoodies or t-shirts in sight - just an array of long-sleeves. Though similar, each exuded unique charm: some conveyed authority, others magisterial. Yet, I'm drawn to this particular long-sleeve that transforms me into a sultry leading man, perfect for an aphrodisiac film.
I checked on Stinky, concerned the chill might have taken its toll. Instead, I found the overweight woman slumped in the chair, drooling. I gently removed the gag from her mouth and nudged her awake. Her eyes snapped open, fixing me with an irate stare. And just waking up, her day already started on a bad note.
"That's quite an expensive-looking outfit, where's it from?"
"I didn't bring extra clothes. I'm just borrowing some, so don't be stingy with me. I'm the one feeding you."
"Don't you know that's part of my husband's collection, and he never wears it because it's sacred to him?"
"Your husband is lucky to have someone like me wear his fancy clothes, and don't get too possessive, it doesn't suit you. I'll return this anyway."
"Return the outfit to its proper place. And next time, don't touch my husband's belongings!"
"You can't boss me around, ever. I'll borrow when I want, and if you think about it, those clothes are practically mine. They suit me better, and I'll look more elegant wearing them."
"You're really bold to act like that's yours when it's not!"
"You're welcome to be upset, but I'm not bothered. I'll hang out with our friendly neighbors for a bit, and I'll bring your breakfast when I return."
I emerged from the house's main entrance, feeling eerily like its new owner, with renovation plans brewing. I traversed the street, arriving at your doorstep, Burgundy. Let me just compose myself - fix my French crop hair, straighten my outfit, and put on a smile - before you open the door. You were speechless when you saw me standing outside. You froze, like you were starstruck, or rather, utterly weirded out.
"What a coincidence! You're Jane, right? We've met at the Accountancy building over the past few days. Actually, I've been visiting Tita, who lives in the house opposite yours. Her kitchen roof is damaged, by the way. May I borrow a hammer if you have one?" You turned a deaf ear to me.
"Who's that you're talking to, and what do they want?" Sadboy's voice emerged, and I picture him settled into his favorite armchair, engrossed in the day's news.
"He's just asking to borrow a hammer."
"What's the rush of fixing the house? Who is that?"
"He's Misses Chewetel's nephew," you responded, and Sadboy cease reading. He set the newspaper aside. Approaching us, hand on his stomach, his eyes widened in astonishment as he recognized me standing outside the door.
"Aren't I lucky? That's Boomslang, the sports star I'm always watching! He's my hero! What's your problem, Sweetie? You won't even invite him in?" Sweetie? That's what he calls you, Burgundy? How cheesy. "Bear with the young lady's rough manners; she's not just used to having guests. Come in, come in! We'll deal with the roof later. Let's grab a cup of coffee first, champ."
I trailed behind Sadboy, unaware of my true nature, until we entered the living room. As I sat down, I caught the unmistakable hint of irritation etched on your face, Burgundy. My unexpected presence displeased you, but what disconcerts you more is Sadboy's behavior towards you in my presence.
"What kind of coffee would you like, Champ? Espresso? cappuccino? Tell me, and Sweetie will whip it up for you!"
"Any coffee is fine with me, as long as it's not bitter and safe to drink."
"Sweetie, brew a macchiato for Boomslang, please."
"Yes, sir, right away. I'll make him a delicious and out-of-this-world macchiato that'll take him to an interdimensional trip!" Your witty, sarcastic retort to that sly tone, and I can't help but laugh, Burgundy.
"Now that you're here, spill the beans! What's new in the life of the country's lone motocross sensation?"
"There's still no change in my life. I'm still the same person you see, read about, or hear about in the media."
"You're still the same humble person I've always known. No surprise many people look up to you. Changing gears! Saw on TV you're racing in San Nicholo's motocross event. I'll be there to root for you!"
"Will you be at the event with ---Jane?"
"Sweetie's coming too, since her friend - one of your rivals - will be there. But honestly, you've got this; your opponent's not exactly tough competition." Burgundy, you arrived with my coffee and abruptly set it down on the side table.
"Talking about my friend, it's like you have an exemplary talent for motocross. Rigolos is excellent, and he can beat your so-called 'Champ' in this competition." And you're referring to me.
"That's just my opinion, why are you getting offended? Your friend clearly looks like a loser anyway."
"Loser? That's rich coming from you, still holding on to the hope of being loved by someone who could never love you back. Now, who do you think is the bigger loser, you or Rigolos?" I was caught off guard by the coffee you gave me, Burgundy. I couldn't handle your sudden outburst.
"This coffee is amazing! It goes so well with the warm pandesal," I said and I observed the atmosphere has shifted, but my praise for the coffee and pandesal fell on deaf ears. Burgundy, you're openly humiliating Sadboy before me, his face is flushed, and he resembles a crimson apple; yet, you continue to mock him.
"Heads up, I'm heading to Rosie's place after breakfast to tackle our group project."
"Group project - again? How many is that now? Why bother going to Rosie's? Bring your groupmates here instead. Your overcomplicating things."
"Shouldn't it be my turn to accommodate them? They've always been so understanding. I feel grateful but also guilty, so this time, I'll make the effort to adjust for them."
You're just giving Sadboy a reason to hurt you, and he'll take advantage of you once I'm gone from this chaotic yet visually appealing home. But I'll only leave once your gone. Until then, I'll play along with Sadboy's antics.
I'm stuffed from breakfast, and my stomach hurts - thanks to Sadboy's terrific cooking! I think we'll get along and I'll benefit a lot from him. He even gave me leftover food, supposedly for my 'Tita.' Good thing, so I won't need to drive-thru or order food for my dog, and even if Stinky's fridge is full, I won't cook for her. Who does she think she is, Cleopatra?
Sadboy's paranoia prevented you from taking a taxi to Fluffy - Rosie's house. He imagines you engaging in inappropriate behavior with the driver. In his mind, while the taxi driver navigates the road, you'd be pleasing him with a blowjob, which he can't accept. Though I'm not telepathic, I understand his concerns. He believes it's safer if he drives you there personally.
You ultimately succumbed to his wishes, and did you think I wasn't offended by your earlier remark? That BoRat could outpace me? You stated it bluntly, and now I'm observing you from a tree. You're by Fluffy's house, near the bamboo pavilion, and a woman has brought you snacks.
Sitting across from each other, laptops at the ready, you resemble two modern-day disciples of Einstein, deeply engrossed in your work.
"I wonder when Cesshe and Lyle will show up. We've been waiting for ages," said Fluffy.
"Lyle's probably helping with their minimart setup, while Cesshe, as you know, takes eternity to get ready. She's probably still contouring."
"No worries if they're not here, we can handle this research paper on our own. I'll even work harder so we can get higher grades."
"Don't overdo it. We're in the same group, and they should contribute too for fairness. Rosie, among the four of us, you're the one who value our friendship the most. Be truthful, are you still covering for Cesshe by doing her homework?"
"I don't always do it, but when I can, I help with her assignments. Still, I'm not okay with shouldering too much of the workload."
"Lyle told me your supplementing her allowance. I get that you want to help, but she's well-off, and she's already got multiple side gigs."
"She only reaches out when I fund her cigarette habit. I basically cover her vice expenses, but it's a burden I don't bear."
Initially, I didn't question why someone with a higher BMI joined your circle, Burgundy. It seems your friends, Fluffy, sympathize with her, treating her as a subordinate, while your curvaceous friend is being taken advantage of. Nevertheless, I'm once again impressed by your tact, Burgundy.
Slutty and Grungy are running late, likely counting on Fluffy's ingenuity. You and Fluffy have only set aside a half-day, and I ended up trailing you to a music store.
I recall noticing your enthusiasm for rock and alternative music when I first saw you at the rock festival but you're just killing time here at the record store because, honestly, you're actually waiting for Slutty, and the obnoxious bitch is cruising around a sleek ride.
"Bet your politician boyfriend pampered you with a massage, making you late. Now, you owe Rosie a shopping trip for her clothes since you didn't show up as agreed."
"I was delayed because his wife was a hindrance. I had to wait for her to leave before I could get the money."
"But you should have included Rosie too, since she's always on the go whenever we plan trips. Why just me? And I presumed Lyle was joining us."
"I reached out to Carlyle, but she's busy, leaving her minimart unattended. Rosie's slow shopping pace is a concern, and honestly, her outdated fashion sense aggravates me."
"Rosie stepped up to cover your share of the commitment, yours and Lyle's."
"She likely handled it fine, being smart and all. No complaints from her, anyway. Wonder what she's after? An exquisite dress? A raunchy swimwear? Or maybe something quirky like a hippo mascot?"
Slutty's behavior is quintessential mean girl, with a limited perspective. You entered her luxurious car, and I trailed you to the mall's clothing section. Slutty was picking out outfits, sharing outlandish fashion tips with the sales lady, and taking whatever caught her eye. Her politician boyfriend seems overly generous, likely misusing public funds.
You're carrying numerous shopping bags and boxes, and Burgundy, you look like Slutty's personal assistant, lugging all her stuff. Since Slutty treated you, you're counteracting by following her around today.
She commanded you to fetch her a drink when she felt parched. Then, feeling sweaty, she directed you to wipe the beads of perspiration from her forehead. Additionally, you were tasked with delivering the items she purchased for Fluffy and Grungy.
She couldn't hand it over to them personally because she has an important appointment to attend to, and she's acting like a high-maintenance lady, leaving you hanging, Burgundy.
You hailed a taxi, and I tailed you on my motorcycle until you stopped at a rundown store, likely Grungy's family minimart. You went inside with her stuffs, courtesy of government funding and how could we ever forget the very generous Princesshe Phoetlockes? Grungy greeted you with a beaming smile at the checkout counter, and her excitement was palpable.
"Is all this really for me? Wow, incredible! The sole heir of Phoetlockes Airlines truly has exceptional style. May Cesshe's precious feminine core be even luckier!"
"My feet are already aching, and with the heavy load I'm carrying, I'm almost ready to join a weightlifting competition."
"You know Cesshe, she's the type who gives different answers when her preschool teacher asks about her dreams, notwithstanding, she doesn't really have any aspirations except to be a mistress to wealthy men."
"Let's acknowledge her choice as an ambition, albeit an illegal one. Even with our future banking careers, she'll outearn us. Her manicured hands will still be overflowing with cash."
"Cesshe is a benison from heaven and a gift from hell. I thought being friends with her would make it easy to borrow money, but that's not the case. Rosie is more of a heaven-sent, even if she's a bit naive."
"I pity Rosie. I offered to help with our research paper, but she took charge and told me to chill. We owe her gratitude, Lyle, especially you."
"Duh, if she weren't intelligent, she wouldn't have dismissed you. But she's also proud; she doesn't want her research paper to be tainted with our silly thoughts."
After a long day of errands as a personal assistant and delivery girl, you arrived home drained, having been shuttled around. You longed to sink into your plush cushion. Laden with shopping bags and accessories, I noticed you letting out a deep sigh by the door.
When you opened the door, you witnessed Sadboy's dismay, and I'm reminding you that you humiliated him in front of me earlier.
Tonight, that floral dress and your innocent charm may have spared you from a severe reprimand, potentially including a harsh blow from his long, thick, and monolithic leather belt.
BERSERK PHANTASMS
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