Page 4 of Rome: The Ballerina

“Mixing Cleo Sol, slow songs by SZA, and Sade.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she responded just before the sound of Cleo Sol’s voice surrounded me.

Minty toothpaste cleansed the crevices of my mouth. Mouthwash of the same flavor cleared whatever was left behind. A cold, damp towel covered my skin.

Hhhhhaaaa. I breathed outward.

Closing my eyes, I regained control of my emotions.

They’re mine. In every lifetime.

I reminded myself that, although the cards hadn’t exactly fallen in my favor in this one, there were a hundred other lifetimes to get it right. A hundred other lifetimes where they were still mine. A hundred lifetimes I had to commune with and love on my siblings and our parents.

I removed the cloth from my face, wiped my hands, and pressed it into the small flaps that made a full circle on the counter that led to the laundry basket downstairs. I used anexfoliating cotton round to apply toner to my skin and followed up with serum.

Once it was patted into my skin well enough, I laid dime-sized dots of moisturizer on my forehead, cheeks, and chin. With sealed eyelids, I massaged the thick cream across my plumpness.

I finished my morning routine with little time to spare. Deciding to tidy, I made my bed and reduced any traces of my presence in my private headquarters.

And, I’m off.

The loosened laces of my sneakers stopped me just as I touched the handle of my front door. I pushed the second earbud in my ear and lifted my left leg until the ribbon and pearl laces I’d replaced the original laces with met my eyes. My water bottle settled on the entryway console table, remaining upright when I released it from my grasp.

I secured every piece of fabric dangling from my shoes before planting my feet on the floor again. A smile spread to my lips, showcasing the results of my astronomical dental bill.

I’m literally just a girl. I thought as a soft chuckle escaped me.

The words on the water bottle I’d been gifted by Range had never been truer. My laces were evidence. Though beautiful, they weren’t exactly practical and would possibly need to be tightened ten times before I slipped my shoes off. However, practicality wasn’t exactly my logic. Pretty was. Always had been.

The mirror above my console table halted my steps. My skin was glowing. Hydration was key to my routine and I hadn’t disappointed this morning. I used my hands to warn my flyaways to stay in place. I needed the low bun to remain intact for the next eight hours.

“Raegan, lock the door in twenty seconds,” I called out.

“Your door will be locked in– twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen–”

With my water bottle in-hand, I stepped out of my front door. Darkness coated the sky. The dewiness of April greeted me graciously.

Good morning, Clarke.

It was good to be home. As much as I loved St. Catana and what I was cultivating on the island, I missed Clarke dearly. It was the city of my wildest dreams and that would never change. It didn’t matter where I was or what I was doing.

“Good morning, August. Good morning, Koen.”

Though my yard was empty, I was aware that I wasn’t alone. I was hardly ever alone when I stepped outside of my home. It had always been that way. I doubted much would change. Teddy was insufferable.But, he meant well. My protection was his priority. It always has been.

“Shit,” Koen whispered as he appeared from the bush. “August, come on out, man.”

He shook his head as he cleaned his tracksuit. Defeat covered his handsome face.

“Good morning, Balle.”

“Good morning, Balle.”

With their hands in front of them, they both greeted me.

“He didn’t tell you, huh?”

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