Enter the world of the Kolidescope

[Atraya Crowe]

Before the night of the club

It’d been several years since the Wisteria fire. A fire that destroyed everyone and everything she had known. She still had dreams of the fire and a man with blue eyes. She thought perhaps she loved this man. From the way her heart would ache deep inside her chest whenever she would see his face in her dreams. But his face was never distinct enough for her to fully visualize him.



Except his eyes. They were the kind of blue that should have required a trademark. She couldn’t remember much about the fire. Someone yelling to “get her out!” and Carlos half pulling half dragging her out of the burning building. Sometimes Atraya wasn’t even certain those events were real. Or if they were just bad dreams that felt so real she believed them to be true.



The glass of the window was cool against the skin of Atraya’s forehead as she rest it against it. Looking down at the near 360 view of LA from her house tucked up in the hills. The city was lit up against the night time sky. Revealing even in the light pollution dark angry clouds suggestive of a storm rolling in. Atraya hoped it did rain. There was something soothing about listening to the heavy down pour hitting a variant of surfaces in its rage. It was cleansing. Like the earth herself was washing herself clean.



Slender fingers would gently swirl dark amber liquid of a fancy whiskey that her assistant had procured prior to her arrival. The whiskey stones clinking gently as they swirled around the tumbler. Keeping her whiskey cold without watering it down. Or so was the theory. Some nights she simply preferred ice to mellow out the taste if the whiskey had too strong of a flavor.



Her left hand rested palm against the floor length window as she watched the glittering lights bellow. She heard the sound of foot steps approaching from down the hall. She could tell from the pattern that it was Carlos. Her former best friend and personal Security Guard. A recent promotion, courtesy of her estranged father. His charcoal black suit fitted his tall latino frame nicely.



It screamed personal security.



But they were out in the public eye now. There was no need in hiding who and what they were when they’d be known soon enough. Especially after her acquisition of a well known and celebrity frequented Art Gallery known for its edgy artistry and discovery. She had an opening in just days away, with celebrity guest artists who both owed her father and out of their own sheer disgusting greed to see and be seen.



Carlos had been her friend and companion for too many years left to count. But it irritated her none the less how quickly her best friend had acclimated to his new found roll as the head of her security detail.



“The house is Secure Ma’am.” Atraya ignored him even though she could tell from his tone of voice he was serious but he wasn’t. He was still trying to prove to her he was still the same carlos. The same one who’d been by her side protecting her against all odds.



“Fuck you”



She murmured lifting the drink to her lips. Keeping her back to him. He sighed “Come on Tray its a job.” He implored to her back.



“Doesn’t mean you have to enjoy it so much.’ she lashed back at him.



He sighed. Running a large hand over his smooth shaved head. Watching her back like did he always seemed to do.



“Well I got us an invite to a pop up rave tomorrow night.’



At this Atraya did turn around looking into his orange brown eyes with her own obscure purple ones. This caught her attention It’d been a long time since she’d been out and about and let loose. Be anonymous amongst a crowd of strangers. She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.



‘If this is your olive branch, I’m only taking a leaf of it.’ She said. It meant she didn’t forgive him yet. But She was willing to try. And for that Carlos was grateful….





The night of the gallery opening



Everything had fallen into place nicely. The caterer was on time, security was present and the valets were all set up. Even the VIP guest list had been double checked and verified. Atraya had a silent auction to host for the more rare and expensive pisces that was taking place an hour before the grand opening to the public. Which is why she’d told Zaid a later time, just incase he wanted to bring friends. She wasn’t sure if he would even show up.



His kiss had haunted her for days now. Even though most of that night felt fuzzy like she was missing details. But the details didn’t matter. What mattered to her was how intense the chemistry was that she felt when he had gotten close to her just before he’d kissed her.



Thinking about the kisses made a faint blush stain her cheeks that was noticeable to Carlos and he even called her out on it. ‘Is your new boyfriend coming tonight, that why you all blushy?’



She glared at him and straightened her shoulders, making her look taller and more assertive as she met his eyes.



‘He’s not my Boyfriend.’ she declared but Carlos finished her sentence

. ‘...yet’ He smirked at her.

‘Leave it to you to start crushing on a DJ. But I’m happy for you. Its about time you got out there and started playing the field. No one deserves to be lonely Tray. Especially not you...you’ve been through enough trauma to last many life times.”



She bit down on her lip. She didn’t want to think about the complication of her past and trauma and why should couldn’t remember certain events of her life or why she kept having dreams of waking up in a burning building and Carlos dragging her out.



All thoughts of the past were forgotten when her ‘start’ Artist walked into the gallery a Frenchmen known as Jean-luc Pierre. He preferred to be called Pierre. He was a short stocky man, that had a flare for drama and extreme flamboyancy.



‘Ahhh Mademoiselle Atraya!” He called coming over to greet her, taking her slender hands into his own leaning up, as she had to lean down. They kissed each other’s cheeks in customary greeting.



‘You look so beautiful ma cherie in this dress and heels. I’m rather jealous. All the men will have their eyes on you, and not my beautiful work’



He held a finger up when she started to protest. ‘Non, Cherie this is your moment, you shine. I’ve had many an opening, but never have I had the pleasure of working with Zander Crowe’s daughter. You ma cherie will out do you’re father one day.’



Atraya offered a tight smile at the reference to her Estrand father. She had no desire to go fully into the family business fully content to run the gallery and deal in rare art and hard to find artifacts behind the scenes.



‘You flatter me too much Pierre’, perhaps you’d like to check out the auction before the main opening? I’ve got some rather nice pieces you might be interested in.’



While he was known for his own art Pierre was a collector himself. He smiled at her, leand up and kissed her cheek again and departed ways.



Letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding her shoulders slump a little.



This of course when Carlos chose to whisper in her ear, in attempt to build her confidence.



‘He’s right you know, you look great in black.’



Atraya was dressed all in black that evening with a black backless sequeened dress and stelleto heels that made her 3 inches taller than she already was. Her long hair had been style into soft wavy curls that fell past her shoulders to her waist framing her face just right. She’d glance at Carlos suddenly vulnerable.



‘Do I?’



He nodded in affirmation, and Paused when the door guy flagged him over.



‘I’ll be right back, looks like Alex has some drunk guy on his hands. Don’t worry about a thing Tray, tonight will be a success. And who knows maybe that prince charming of yours will show up after all.’



For the first time in awhile she gave him a genuine smile and reached out to squeeze his hand.

‘Thanks for believing in me.’ He nodded and left her to attend to the door situation leaving Atraya to check in on the Silent Auction that still had another 10 mins left. Time to remind them she thought.



‘Entering a side room that was roped off with velvet also armed by a security guard. She’d enter the room. So many rich and famous people had attended. There several highly sought after pieces that were coming directly out of the Crowe familys personal collection.



She’d put on a big smile, and walk up to the small stage that had been set up for larger non-silent auctions.



‘Excuse me esteemed guest I just wanted to give you the final 10 minute warning, that we will be ending the auction in 10 mins.”



Several guests nodded in acknowledgement and considered to drink their champagne as caterers floated around with bubbly filled flutes.



Satisfied for now that the auction was going to off without a hitch. She would whisper to her assistant who’d approached her to take care of the auction once it was finished. She had some other things she needed to attend to.



Other things being, out in the main gallery rubbing elbows with the rest of the rich and famous who didn’t want to take part in the auction and of course the general public who the gallery was now open for.



She wandered away from the entrance towards pierres exhibit which was the largest and in the back. She wanted to be available if Zaid did show up but, not so available that she was just simply waiting for him to show up.



In reality he was just going to be an added bonus. A smile crossed her face as she thought bout his kiss once more, and how she felt herself yearning for another.



Would it be the same? Or had there just been magic at play that had pushed them together? Only time would tell.

[Mel Benett]

Mel sat in the back of the town car with her mother and Richard. She stared out the window as they drove towards the gallery. Martha insisted Mel accompany them to this event. There would be lots of people her mother and Richard already knew but there would be opportunities to network.

"Melissa --"

"Don't call me that," Mel offered casually as she turned her head to look at her mother. Martha rolled her eyes and then continued. "Melissa," she ignored her daughter and continued. "You need to be on good behavior tonight. There will be a lot of people here and you need to make a good impression."

Mel looked from her mother to Richard and back to Martha. "No. You need to make a good impression. The only reason you're bringing me along is so we can put on the happy family act. Don't worry, I'll hold up my end of the deal. I'll go in, mingle, and be the perfect daughter. Then, I don't have to attend any of your stuffy events for another 6 months." Richard looked like he was going to say something and stopped himself as Mel shot him a dirty look.

Richard and her mother talked quietly about who would be in attendance, who they had to catch up with, and who they could potentially network with. Quite frankly, Mel didn't give a shit. She was only going because every 6 months her mother made her attend some event. Martha felt Mel needed more culture. This time it was an art gallery opening. Mel wasn't opposed to fine art. She was opposed to her mother and stepfather and stuffy events with a room full of pretentious assholes.

A sigh escaped her lips as they pulled up. Richard stepped out first, helping Martha out of the car. "Showtime," Mel muttered. Richard offered his hand to help Mel out and she took it, stepping out of the car gracefully. Richard closed the car door letting his driver know he would call when they were ready to leave. Mel caught a glimpse of herself. The dress was tame for what Mel normally wore when she was going out but this was a fancy event. Her dress had a halter neckline and was sleeveless. It was lacy, form fitting, and came to just above her knees. She wore matching heels and carried a small clutch. Her hair was pulled up into an elegant bun.

"Ladies." Richard motioned towards the entrance. It wasn't long after they entered that her mother and Richard started socializing. Mel made the rounds with them to make her obligatory greetings.

Mel took a glass of bubbly when the waiter offered and she gave him a sweet smile. "Thank you." She took a sip of champagne and monitored the room. There was nothing like a good party but this was not Mel's type of party. She told Safi and Jen about the gallery opening but wasn't sure if they would be able to make it. She stood next to her mother who was chatting with some politician she had sold a multi-million dollar home to a few years ago. "Senator, so nice to see you again," Mel shook his hand. As Martha chatted with her former client, Mel smiled, laughed, and had all the right reactions at all the right moments. She responded to when necessary like a good little monkey. Mel occasionally sipped her champagne wondering if there was enough to get her through the night. When a waiter came around again she replaced her empty glass with a full one. 

[darkheart]

Sweat poured down his face as he mopped the liquor store floor furiously. Glancing at the clock every so often, he'd shake his head. Inventory had been done, the drawer balanced out and Jake was coming in to start his shift early as a favor for the many times Zaid had bailed him out for the extra hours. The perverse old manager nodded quietly toward the door, silently telling him it was fine and he could go. Taking off at a full run, he burned back to campus, panting as he walked down the dorm hallway.

"Yo Zaid! How's it hangin' brah?"

"Peace be upon you Trey! Man bun's lookin' sharp!"

"Hey Z...my phlebotomy experiment's not working...it's....gunky?"

"Peace be upon you, Tao-shan. Check your NSAIDs, bro. Sometimes they cause unwanted clotting. Very dangerous in real life. Can cause embolisms!"

"Zaid - you comin' to study group tomorrow? We could really use your help with our project on synthetic antibodies and the risks of pre-cancerous catalyzation. Leigh was hoping you'd be there..."

"Peace be upon you, T'shawn. No she's not...she's way outta my league...and yes I'll come anyway. Always happy to help. I'll be late though...have to work at the morgue and get some hours in."

He'd slip in to his room, drop his clothes and hit the shower. Rinsing quietly under the hot water, he'd let out a few deep OHMs and calm his mind. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he'd put on deoderant, comb his hair and splash on a light dab of cologne. Going to his closet, he'd sigh. Lab coats, t-shirts, two different service uniforms. Sighing, he shook his head. Finding a clean pair of black jeans and his only polo, he dressed as best he could. Looking in the mirror with sad eyes, he nodded quietly.

"It's a blessing to be poor, Zaid. Humility is welcome and piety is strength. Putting on his bracelets and his father's ring, he stepped down the hall to head out. Halfway down the hall the voice rang out behind him.

"Where do you think you're off to, street rat?"

He cringed as Pierce called out to him. The junior born with a silver spoon up his ass always reminded him of his upbringing. Closing his eyes and pausing, he reminded himself that he was called to be kind no matter what the situation, and karma dictated that he not return disdain in kind.

"I have been invited to an art gallery by a girl I met the other night."

Pierce would perk an eyebrow at him. He'd seen Zaid's jeans, noting that the Senior never wore them.

"Who's this chick?"

"Her name is Atraya, Pierce. Atraya Crowe."

The junior's eyes went wide, and he shook his head. Grabbing Zaid by the collar, he drug him into his room.

"Crowe? As in Zander Crowe's daughter? Yeah, no. C'mon."

Zaid turned when he had control of his own actions and wondered what was going on. Pierce went to his closet and opened it. Inside were a myriad of high end clothes consistent with the rich kid's wardrobe. He and Pierce were of similar height and body shape. Strangely, the young man pulled out a black Armani suit with a charcoal grey dress shirt and royal purple vest. Tossing them on the bed, he nodded.

"She's way out of your league, Zaid, and you're not going anywhere near her dressed like that tonight. C'mon...strip and put it on. I'm not joking. You know her old man is loaded, right? Not sure what she sees in you, but if you got an invite, you may as well represent."

Zaid stared at Pierce for a long moment, then stripped and started dressing. Pierce rolled his eyes and sighed.

"C'mon, man....you're the only reason I passed my intro to Anatomy and Physiology. I know I'm a dick sometimes, but I'm not heartless. This could be a good thing for you if you manage not to screw it up. I owe you. Just....just don't tell anyone."

Zaid nodded quietly, feeling a mix of shame and gratitude at the same time. Perhaps karma was in his favor today. Pierce snatched up his keys and nodded towards the door. They'd walk to the student lot and get into Pierce's metallic black Aston Martin DB9. Driving across town to Collide Escope, Zaid would hop out quietly. Pierce would lean out of the window and put on his snob voice as he addressed the doorman.

"You know who I am, right? Pierce Wilkinson? Yeah...that Wilkinson. This is Zaid, my personal appraiser. Yeah, I know what he looks like, but this is 2021 man - get over yourself. Zaid, I expect a full recommendation on the portfolio. I don't have time to do it myself tonight. I've got a pair of Irish twins just gagging to be...well...try not to embarrass me, okay?"

The young man would wink to him.

"Yes Sir, Mr. Wilkinson. I will see if there is a purchase worthy of the Family, sir. You'll have my recommendation in the morning. Well, we'll make it mid-afternoon in case the O'Malley ladies desire to tarry."

Pierce would nod and drive off with a squeal of the tires as any entitled rich brat might do. Zaid would turn to the doorman who would frown, waiting for an invitation. Zaid would narrow his eyes, then slap his hand away.

"You heard my boss - as if I need such a plebian thing as an invitation. Don't all of you have brown people to do your dirty work these days?"

He would stalk inside with an air of indignity, darting around the corner with eyes wide and panting breath once he was out of sight. Grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the servers, he perked up and gave her a knuckle bump. He'd tutored Sarah Beth several times, and they were equally shocked to see each other.

"You okay, Z? You look a little shaken."

"Peace be upon you, Sarah Beth...I had to be firm with the doorman. I don't think I've ever spoken to another in such a fashion. I'm a bit ashamed, but I really wanted to be here tonight. I'm looking for someone. Would you know an Atraya?"

"Atraya? Atraya Crowe? You're here for Atraya Crowe? Dang, Z...aiming for the stars, are we? Yeah, this is her place. I mean HER place. She's right over there."

He'd follow her finger to see Atraya enter the room, the glass almost slipping from his fingers. Dressed all in black and moving just as gracefully in her steps as she did in her dance, his knees weakened slightly. What on earth was he doing here. Glancing towards the door, he felt a gentle hand on his wrist. Looking up, Sarah Beth smiled at him gently.

"Easy Tiger. If she invited you, she wanted to see you, right? Doesn't matter where you are...she's still just a young woman who sees you. Get hold of yourself and don't come on too strong. Besides, the way your ass looks in that suit, wherever you managed to get your hands on it, I might be waiting out back if she's too short-sighted."

The girl would bite her bottom lip, take the glass from his hand, cast one last forlorn look at his backside, wink and move around. Zaid would blush darkly, coughing and straightening up. Pulling on the bottom of his suit coat to smooth it out. He would glance around at the crowd, then turn to admire one of the paintings. Licking his dry lips, he tried to calm his mind. He would have to seek out Atraya at some point, but right now he didn't want to get tossed for appearing not to belong. He was, after all, crashing the party.

[Atraya Crowe]

Atraya had to put on a professionally happy face as she greeted guests by name shook hands and hugged as they circulated the gallery mostly spilling out of the silent Auction. She hadn’t seen Zaid come in, or even be hassled at the door had she, the door man would’ve found himself replaced by someone else almost immediately. Carlos was circulating the room and hadn’t seen him either, or caught his scent either.



Rounding the corner Atraya plastered another one of her famous smiles as she came across Senator Huckabee and the Collins. She greeted the Senator first, surprised by the slight drunken embrace where his hand slid a little too far down her back side for comfort where she firmly removed his hand with a smile on her face. She would smile sweetly at the Collins.



‘Richard, Martha, its a pleasure to see you both again.’ she smiled grasping richards hand. And air kissing Martha’s cheek. Richard worked for one of the many company’s that was apart of her fathers empire. She turned her unusually violet eyes to Mel and offered her a smile and a slender hand.



‘You must be Mel, your parents have mentioned you often between business talks. I owe your mother a great favor helping my father and I acquisition this place.’



It was while she was speaking with the Collin’s that her eyes would see Zaid enter dressed to the 9’s over mels shoulder. Looking clearly nervous but confident at the same time. And yet she knew beyond a doubt he was looking for her.



He was early, but to be fair when your making out with a DJ in a broom closet you don’t exactly keep gallery openings in your pants pockets. But she was very happy to see him. It was obvious because her eyes lit up and momentarily distracted her from her professional duties.



She’d smile some more exchange a few words before excusing herself.



She’d grab a glass of champagne from the waitress who had spoken to Zaid previously. Before she started to make her way towards him. Pausing between to meet and greet along her way.



It would take a few minutes to find him alone by a piece in the back, that had a bench beneath it. It was an exquisite painting done by pierre himself, of a beautiful yet valiant Valkyrie in battle. The picture card said the image was called ‘The last Valkyrie’. It was one of his earlier pieces that was still in high demand, but was currently on loan from Zander himself.



Atraya would come and slowly stand next to Zaid trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. She’d reach over with her pinky finger and slowly encircle his with her own. Chewing her lower lip waiting for him to turn and look at her. When he did, he’d be greeted by a shy but happy smile.



‘I...happy you came.’

[darkheart]

Looking quietly at the painting, he smiled slightly. It almost resembled Signe, but it wasn't quite right in the eyes. It lacked the deep ferocity blunted by hidden care. He almost snorted, wondering for a moment if this is what art critics did everyday - pull apart people's work without any regard to the effort and skill. He could never make anything like this.

He almost startled at he felt Atraya's finger curl around his. Swallowing hard, he turned his hand slightly to brush a thumb over her knuckles once, then squeeze her pinky gently. Turning to her, he nodded.

"Peace be upon you, Atraya Crowe. And if I might say, you look more beautiful than a black orchid in the summer rain, glistening in the light - gentle and radiant. It does my heart good to see you."

Turning to her, aware that many in the crowd were watching with side eyes, trying to pretend not to be interested but of course looking for the most recent gossip. He would pretend as the others did, putting his cheek to hers for an air kiss, then moving away from them to put his cheek against hers on the other side for presumably the follow up. Instead he let his cheek linger for the briefest of seconds, whispering gently to her.

"A team of a thousand wild horses could not keep me away from you a second longer."

Leaning back to an appropriate distance, he motioned to the work so that they could turn their back to the crowd, asking just a touch loudly for the lookie-loos.

"What do you think of this painting? Strangely I find it somewhat resembles an associate of mine."

He would cross his arms over his chest so as not to draw consternation from the crowd should they notice them almost holding hands, but he was also trying to steady that hand which trembled slightly from her touch. There was a slight pulse of desire in the air, even as he reigned in the urge to pull her to himself and kiss her again. He could never be so forward here - in fact, he was concerned he was contemplating such a forward action at all. Still, since he'd met her he'd felt an empty longing after she had left. Smiling gently, he leaned his head towards her slightly and whispered.

"It's a beautiful gallery you have...not as cozy as my broom closet, mind, but definitely more elegant. I think you're winning in coolness points so far."

[Atraya Crowe]

Tray felt the first singeing feelings of a blush curling up her cheeks when his thumb lightly caressed her knuckles. Her lips would part into a tiny o when he finally turned to her and spoke. Delivering yet another beautiful compliment that made her chest tighten with anticipation and her cheeks glow pink. She’d lower her lashes hiding her eyes from him for a brief moment. She went with the fake air kiss, a soft sigh escaping her lips when his cheek brushed against her own and she had to close her eyes fully just to catch her breath. She’d never met anyone who seemed so gifted with romantic words before. And it was nice. It made her heart skip a beat or two. Her pulse picking up speed ever so slightly.



At his words of not being able to stay away, she had to control her own desire to close the distance further between them. But he leaned back before either of them could make such a social faux pas.



She would smile at his comment about the painting and arch a brow. ‘Oh really? I’d like to meet her sometime. Pierre has a talent for painting beautiful women. He’s actually here tonight if you’d like to meet him’ she said with full sincereness, not really caring who heard their conversation at that moment.



It took her a moment to realize that he had said her last name. When she had never given it to him at the club. And for a moment a cloud of doubt hovered in her mind. Was intentions towards her his own? Or were they being puppeteered by her father? She knew in LA that her father’s name carried weight. After all, he’d extended his empire from San Diablo to LA. But she hadn’t known that her name was now circulating along side that of her fathers.



That felt a little disturbing and upsetting. While her clouded thoughts hovered she listened to him speak, and again felt the chemistry rise between them as he complimented the gallery and compared it to the broom closet. She couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. Because he was right. It wasn’t as ‘cozy’ as the broom closet. ‘It does lack a bit of intimacy....in the public part of the gallery’



Her tone indicated that there was more, that she had yet to show him. She’d glance down at her left wrist where she wore a dainty smartwatch to check on the time. The auction would be ending any minute and she wanted to shoo out the ‘losers’ of the auction so that the public could see the recently acquisition pieces.



“I didn’t realize we were counting coolnes points.’ she said softly a playful smile on her face as she looked over at him. ‘I thought this was supposed to be an interview and you were going to bring your resume’ she said with a straight face, and holding it just long enough to get a reaction out of him. Before she’d smile again at him.



She’d reach out and lightly touch his arm.



‘I wasn’t expecting you so early, I have a silent Auction going on thats ending in a few moments that I need to oversee briefly. I guess I forgot to tell you what time the actual opening was starting.’



She’d lightly rub her thumb against his forearm watching him. ‘Did you have any trouble getting in? I’m afraid security tightened a little bit when we had an incident at the door earlier this evening. With so many celebrities here, we guarantee their safety and privacy as much as we possibly can.’



Her face would stonewall at that. There she was again with her secrets. Her last name had been one of them, but somehow he’d learned it before she could even tell him it. Which made her wonder what other rumors had circulated in such a small space of time.



She could feel others staring at them. And she continued to let them. As far as they knew he was yet another patron of the arts that also happened to be familiar with the owner. She’d glance over his shoulder at Carlos who now stood by the auction room door. He held up his wrist pointing to his watch to remind her that it was time to close the auction.



But Atraya felt bad at the idea of leaving Zaid alone to the wolves. She had a feeling that vultures were circling and would pounce him the moment she left his side. The only way to avoid that was to simply make him her official escort for the evening.



‘How about I give you a personal tour of the Gallery, starting with the Auction room…” She offered moving closer to him and sliding her arm through his, giving them an excuse to stand closer to one another and still be G-rated for the audience they undoubtedly were growing.



She’d gently tug at his arm towards the opposite side of the room to where Carlos stood. Leaning in she whispered softly enough for him to hear.



“‘And you can tell me how you learned who I am.’ she paused and with a wicked little smile that was evident in her voice as low and sultry as it was for his ears only. ‘there might be a janitor's closet in the back near the restrooms, that might have a spot on this tour.’

[darkheart]

‘Oh really? I’d like to meet her sometime. Pierre has a talent for painting beautiful women. He’s actually here tonight if you’d like to meet him’

Zaid would smile softly, looking into her purple eyes and musing to himself if she'd ever let the man paint her. Chuckling quietly, he murmured, having read the name plate on the painting.

"Meet Jean-Luc Pierre? That would be close to an enterprising move..."

“I didn’t realize we were counting coolness points.I thought this was supposed to be an interview and you were going to bring your resume’

"Ah, but I thought this was the meet and greet. Aren't resumes reviewed with a small panel or in private? Sadly, however, I haven't any references to give you. I hope that's alright."

His eyes lit up as she touched his arm, a small unheard thrum in the air. Some of the nearby patrons blushed at their consorts and socialite partners, perhaps noting for the first time how attractive they were. It passed in a second and there was some uncomfortable coughing a mild blushing through the crowd. Scratching the back of his neck at her question about security, he chuckled.

"No...I may have been a touch forward with your doorman. Karma dictated that I have help getting in...one of the gentlemen I tutored helped with his connections. But I really should apologize at some point. I just...I just really wanted to see you so I did what I had to in order to ensure I be allowed in. No threats or violence, no! Just sharp words. I feel kind of terrible about it, actually."

‘How about I give you a personal tour of the Gallery, starting with the Auction room…and you can tell me how you learned who I am.’

His knees would feel a little wobbly as she took his arm, but he took a second to squeeze his against his side, putting gentle pressure on her arm in a minor embrace, then matching her pace quietly. Instead of the normal gossip filled consternation, the patrons within about 20 ft. of them seemed exuberantly happy for no apparent reason, looks of fawning and joy sparkling like a rogue Hallmark movie. As they moved past, the look would fade and while there was a residual peace, given everyone truly wishes to be happy in some fashion and hold on to it, there was a stiffening once more and a pre-set propriety that set in.

"Would you believe that I have a friend who is a djinn? And for the price of your soul he will grant you all that you desire. Given my people's ancient and mystic ways I have enlisted his services to seek you out and he told me...to read the Arts section of the newspaper."

He smiled with his lips and his eyes at her - there was no mocking tone, only a boyish playfulness and a deep seated mirth to his nature. He was genuinely happy to be with her again - appearing largely carefree in spite of his social anxiety among this crowd. Having her on his arm brought light to his soul.

"You gave me your first name and the name of your gallery. The L.A. Times put an article about your place. One of my jobs is also with the City. I used the database to see the permits and tax documents associated with the gallery. It's not difficult to find a person if you know some of the right information and have access to the places to look, and after the other night, both heart and mind told me you were someone I had to find again."

He would look to his shoes with a darkening of his cheeks at her last statement. His own tone would match hers, low and warm.

"There is nothing I would like more than to visit such a place, but I fear Karma might work against me if I so selfishly seclude you to such a place on a night like tonight. The World deserves to see you to remind them that elegance and grace lives not only in stolid paintings and memories of the past, but in the graceful movement of your body and the radiance of your beauty. Even this moment is more than I deserve, but I am grateful for it. Should you grace me with more at your leisure, I would surely count myself blessed."

[Mel Benett]

Mel eyed the Senator's untoward behavior and took a sip of her champagne to hide a smirk as Atraya gracefully made it apparent she wasn't interested. Richard and Martha returned Atraya's greeting fawning over how elegant the event was and about the turnout. They were truly enjoying themselves and Martha was feeling maybe a little too much pride in having helped Atraya and her father acquire the space.

Mel shook Atraya's hand, gentle but firm.  "It's nice to meet you. This is a lovely gallery. One thing you can be sure of is my mother is a pro when it comes to fitting people to their spaces." She flashed a smile and nodded as Atraya excused herself. It was an opportunity for Mel to excuse herself as well. "If you'll excuse me as well," Mel paused for a moment before shaking the senator's hand again, "Senator, it was a pleasure as always." Martha nodded at her daughter. She may not agree with her daughter on many things but she couldn't deny that Mel was charming when she wanted to be. 

It was going to be a long night. Mel took her time moving around the room admiring the art. She briefly considered calling an uber but was sure her mother would murder her if she left so soon. Her body continued to move but her mind was definitely elsewhere. Distracted she walked into Carlos as she came to the entrance for the silent auction.

"Oh my goodness," her cheeks flushed slightly. "I'm terribly sorry. I guess I should be paying more attention to where I'm walking." The color disappeared from her face as quickly as it came. "Have a good evening." 

Mel turned on her heel and headed towards the main entrance. She stepped outside for a minute and found a spot to sit down for a moment. There were people still filtering into the gallery and Mel watched them. She recognized most of them and knew about 3/4 of the people here. Martha and Richard mad her attend all sorts of high profile events during her teenage years. Eighteen was when Mel was able to negotiate attending one every 6 months. She was well aware of the opportunities she had being able to mingle with the people who attended these events. And while she could appreciate it she had always hated these events. People who hated each other in their daily lives acted like the best of friends. They threw money around trying to out-do one another. 

Pulling her phone out of her clutch she sent a quick text to Jen and Safi. Her finger hovered over Kai's name and she added him to the text as well. It'd been a few days since she talked to him. She dragged him to almost every event when they were growing up and it continued to this day. His dad was usually going anyway but having Kai with her kept her sane. It also meant she didn't need to bring someone she was just having fun with or "dating" around her family. Except tonight. Martha waited until last night to tell Mel about the event. Martha then proceeded to immediately start talking about eligible bachelors that would be in attendance. Mel had rolled her eyes and walked away.  

-Gallery opening with Martha and Richard. Someone save me.-

She hit send and tucked her phone back into her clutch.

"There you are, come on, there's someone I want you to meet." Martha didn't give Mel a chance to respond before dragging her back inside.
 

[Atraya Crowe]

"Would you believe that I have a friend who is a djinn? And for the price of your soul he will grant you all that you desire. Given my people's ancient and mystic ways I have enlisted his services to seek you out and he told me...to read the Arts section of the newspaper."



She would raise a disbelieving eyebrow at him until he finished his words, she had to cover her mouth as giggle snorted in response, as that was clearly a joke. But she smiled none the less.



"You gave me your first name and the name of your gallery. The L.A. Times put an article about your place. One of my jobs is also with the City. I used the database to see the permits and tax documents associated with the gallery. It's not difficult to find a person if you know some of the right information and have access to the places to look, and after the other night, both heart and mind told me you were someone I had to find again."



Realization settled in her eyes, at the mention of the article. She’d forgotten she’d done a phone interview with someone about the opening. She tilted her head so she could look at him better as he spoke of his ‘jobs’ and what he had done to find her. For a moment she felt panic bubbling up in the depths of her mind but the calmed when he flattered her again. She hope he was genuine. And not there for some nefarious means of her fathers.

She’d watch him blush his face turning downwards towards his shoes, convincing her that he was genuine in his statement. And it made her heart ache just the tiniest bit. She’d never known anyone so sweet and kind like Zaid and yet he seemed so humble. But was so grandiose with his compliments.


“I’m glad you found me then. Stalker.’


She added with a playful wink.


"There is nothing I would like more than to visit such a place, but I fear Karma might work against me if I so selfishly seclude you to such a place on a night like tonight. The World deserves to see you to remind them that elegance and grace lives not only in stolid paintings and memories of the past, but in the graceful movement of your body and the radiance of your beauty. Even this moment is more than I deserve, but I am grateful for it. Should you grace me with more at your leisure, I would surely count myself blessed."



And then he had her heart racing all over again. She hung from his every word. Each one drawing some emotion inside of her. She’d blush and glance away from him when he tried to tell her he would be selfish if he kept her to himself. She’d rather be hiding in the broom closet with him, than put out on display like a priced mare.


‘You remind me of a poet, the way you talk to me, with such beautiful words you make me feel beautiful like a fairy princess ought to be.’ She said softly. There was a tone to her voice that would speak volumes of how alien this attention was to her as it was to him. She wasn’t the girl who got the guy, she was never the first choice. And yet Zaid made her feel so beautiful. Like no one else in the room existed except the two of them. And it was a very special feeling for her.


Reluctantly she had to pull her arm from his, to announce the end of the auction. But not without pressing her lips to his cheek almost to the corner of his mouth. A non-verbal reassurance that she did indeed want him there.


Leaving Zaid by the door she went back up to the podium stand again and announced the auction was over, and that the winners could come collect their tickets, as their items would be readied for pick up and delivery the next morning.


As people started to move out of the room, she’d rejoin Zaid and slip her arm through his once more. Leaning her body into his ever so slightly. She wanted to enjoy these moments with him. For she never knew how long she had with anyone or anything.


‘Lets continue the tour then, I’ll save the er...office space for the last boring part.’


She offered with a wink. And she would lead him out of the auction room.


The gallery itself was multi level, with a smooth spiral walkway that was wheelchair friendly in opt of actual stairs. The 2nd floor hosted the photography section of the opening and the 3rd floor was all local artistry. Some of it in modern design. But most of it was sponsored students from the local art university.


For the time being they were alone. And like most of the gallery rooms there was a bench in the middle of it. She led Zaid to the bench and sat down next to him. Removing her arm from his she’d slide her hand down and slowly almost shly touch his fingers with her own playfully attempting to hold his hand.


‘So meet and greet it is than.’

she finally said. As badly as she wanted to lean into him and kiss him, she figured he’d be the stronger of the two of them and resist for them both.


‘You said you had jobs, earlier...how many jobs do you have?’

Atraya was no stranger to being a normal working class person. In college she’d been an art student teaching art lessons to high schoolers. At least thats what she remembered. Her fathers empire was his own, and the vast majority of it was blood money. He himself was a nefarious individual amongst the supernatural underground. This wealth and comfort was just as alien to her as, having someone like zaid think she was beautiful.


She almost wondered if she was dreaming.

[darkheart]

‘You remind me of a poet, the way you talk to me, with such beautiful words you make me feel beautiful like a fairy princess ought to be.’

He would smile ever so slightly. He was having trouble focusing every time those deep purple eyes glanced his way, and he felt his mind falling into them endlessly. He would half whisper to her in thought.

"In the world I am always a stranger. I do not understand its language and it does not understand my silence. And yet I would be at peace with you alone in the quiet dark, your breath upon my cheek the only thing to allow me to know I exist, and that I exist in you."

He would smile gently as she slipped away, letting her pass as freely as a child who watched a butterfly alight from his finger. Sliding his one hand into his pocket, the other touched briefly the corner of his mouth where her lips had pressed, then found its way into its own pocket. The world was silent around him, then. He could see people mingling and watch her lips move as she spoke to the crowd, but there was no sound for him. He only watched her as she moved, trying to remember to breath. None of this was real. Any moment he would wake to the cold, dirty water of the rain bucket dumped on his head and his mother's voice screeching about her worthless, lazy son who only brought shame to the family with his foolish notions. As she descended and led him away, he felt grounded once more by the touch of her skin as their wrists grazed each other when looping through his pocketed arm.

As they sat together he pulled his hands from his pocket, smoothing his pants legs out and looking around in the space filled with strange windows of people's lives frozen in time. He was not sure if he was consumed by the beauty or appalled at the offense that this moment had been stolen from them and put on display. The equality of opposites being what it was. He felt her fingers against his and he gently took her hand and held it upon his thigh between his. Tracing small symbols on the skin below her knuckles, he let the gentleness of her touch wash over him.

You said you had jobs, earlier...how many jobs do you have?’

He would look to her at last and smile, fighting the urging of his soul to answer her with a long pressed kiss. But he had stolen one already the other night and was hoping that perhaps that if he were lucky enough to drink of the soft velvet of her lips again, it would be more mutual - proving he wasn't a rash and foolish child exerting his will upon another rather than engaging in a mutual intimacy he so craved with this young woman. Coughing gently to clear his throat, he responded.

"I am...well...I have three jobs at present, in addition to my coursework. I work at a liquor store off of Almedo street. The owner is a vile man, but it keeps my chakras grounded and enforces humility and acceptance of the Maya. I also work for Faruq, the owner of the Wandering Reverie...the rave I met you at. Lastly I have a paid internship with Dr. Mora Kaiyroan at the Coroner's office. She prefers the term Death Investigator - she is a stern woman, but I suspect surrounded in sadness and regret. I already have a deep care and perhaps some pity for her, though I have nothing to found that in. The liquor store is to send money to my Nan in India. Faruq sees that I am able to continue my studies because my mother cannot help since my father passed. The internship is to see that my mother is taken care of, as well as to learn more about my course of study - hematology. I have a few other side hustles for pocket money, but really I just eat 10 cent maruchan ramen and try to keep my clothes clean. Dr. K is probably the closest chance I have to getting my work validated, if I don't irritate her into hating me. I've kind of mucked things up with her on a first impression, but hopefully I can get her to respect me as much as I already respect her. We'll see."

He would lift her hand gently, placing a soft kiss on her middle knuckle, then turn to her with a kind smile.

"What about you? Outside of the fact that you're an enrapturing dancer, run a high-end art gallery the likes of which I've never seen and have a gentle kindness that makes you frequent the inside of a broom closet with an awkward and strange DJ, who are you, Atraya Crowe?"

[Jennifer]

Mel's phone would buzz with a quick text from Jen.

*Do you need an intervention? Could possibly rope Michael into helping. You haven't met him yet! *

Michael would certainly be a name Mel would be familiar with by now, seeing as Jen had sent her friend a link to the Diner accident, found out she had met her Dad, and had been practically giddy about finding what Mel could only assume was her first real boyfriend since hearing about it all. And the things that had been happening since then, this was probably the first time Jen had offered to come out since the diner accident a few days ago.

[Mel Benett]

Mel felt her phone vibrate and she leaned over letting Martha know she would be right back again. "Ladies room..." Mel whispered before disappearing. Once she was in the ladies room she pulled out her phone out. Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. 

-YES! And YES! I need to meet this boy who has stolen your heart.   You'll want to dress up. Cocktail attire is fine. Maybe we can go out after?-

Mel stood in front of the mirror and snapped a selfie sending it along. She still couldn't believe the circumstances that brought Jen and Michael together. And that they had met Frank. She shook her head as she tucked her phone back into her purse. She moved through the room of people towards her mother. Martha was talking to a young man. Richard had wandered off with the Senator to supposedly discuss business.

A smile crossed Martha's face as Mel came back into her orbit. She reached for her daughter's hand and pulled her over. The young man talking to Martha, Mel would learn, was Chadwick Thaddeus Huckabee. That's an unfortunate name, Mel thought to herself but smiled as Martha introduced them. He was the senator's son and had recently graduated from Yale. Mel feigned interest as Chad, as he preferred to be called, discussed what it was like being a graduate and his plans for the future.   

[Jennifer]

Jen's phone would buzz a few minutes later. She had it nearby anyway expecting some sort of response, especially being in a group text.

*Send me the info. Let me see what I can do.*

As soon as she hit send to Mel, Jen would text Michael.

*HEY! I'm sorry this is last minute and late on a Thursday night. But are you free? I was just invited to a somewhat fancy party and I don't want to go alone. If so, do you have a suit?*

[Atraya Crowe]

"What about you? Outside of the fact that you're an enrapturing dancer, run a high-end art gallery the likes of which I've never seen and have a gentle kindness that makes you frequent the inside of a broom closet with an awkward and strange DJ, who are you, Atraya Crowe?"



Trays heart would pound in her ears when he gently kissed her hand. She had to close her eyes for a moment feeling electricity circulating up her arm from his kiss. She was surprised that he did so much and cared for so many. It made her sad that she, aside from Carlos whom she’d been treating badly as of late. She had no one to care for. Her relationship with her father was estrand and her mother had passed away a long time ago (or so she’d been told).



“Who am I?” She asked startled. No one had asked her that before. Not on the level that Zaid was asking. She paused trying to think. Who was she beyond her name that struck fear in the hearts of her fathers enemies, as he hoped that one day she’d rise up to take the ‘throne’. She didn’t know who she was. Not really. She didn’t know Zaid well enough or even intimately enough to even remotely express anything about that side of her life. It was bad enough she suffered some kind of memory loss. She could remember waking up and being told her name was Atraya Crowe and her saying her name was Atraya Crowe. But past that she couldn’t really remember anything.



She glanced away before she looked back at him with sad eyes. ‘I’m nobody.’ she run her tongue over her lips before she continued. ‘I’m just a girl who loves art. My father taught me the trade of dealing and collecting art. My best friend is the head of my security team which is very very awkward. Making him make decisions that as my friend he would never do. But as my bodyguard he does.’



Her free hand would reach up and tuck hair behind her ear and she’d smile at him. ‘Just so you know I rather enjoyed that broom closet with you by the way.’ she inch a little closer to him on the bench. As they still had that part of the gallery completely to themselves. Unaware of the party crashers en-route. ‘I like strange, and from what I’ve seen you’re hardly awkward. At least around me you're not.’



She smiled at him. She was enjoying this one on one conversation. And the level of intimacy it was bringing. With the same free hand she’d reach up and touch his face, cupping the side of it in her hand. ‘But mostly, you seem kind. Like you care too much and receive so little, like myself.’



The world felt like it was shifting, that they were the only two things that existed in that part of the universe. She would bite down on her lower lip for a moment before glancing around to make sure they were still alone. No need to draw attention to themselves if it wasn’t necessary. Before she turned back to him and asked one simple burning question.



‘Zaid?’ There was a long almost dramatic pause before she whispered softly.



‘Will you kiss me?’

[darkheart]

Every second that passed he was falling deeper and deeper into her energy, searching her eyes for her innermost light. He saw the sadness and hurt that blanketed her soul, and while she did not elaborate, he could sense that there was much that was hidden in the Maya surrounding her. But it didn't matter - not to him anyway. He sound of her voice curled into his ears like mist and enveloped him. As she drew slightly nearer, he could feel his pulse in his neck. It was then that she asked.

"Zaid........will you kiss me?"

There was a second's pause before he whispered back to her.

"Every time you ask, and without hesitation."

He would reach over, his arm encircling her back and his free arm sliding beneath her knees. With a strength that was not readily seem natural for his frame, he would lift her gently and set her on his lap. One hand rest gently just below her rib cage, cupping her side and gingerly pressing her shoulder into the joint where his own connected to his torso. The other hand rest against her outer thigh, his thumb caressing the top of her leg while his hand held the side to prevent her from sliding off. The warmth of her legs against his made his heart thunder in his chest, pounding a cadence of desire into her side. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he leaned slowly into her and pressed his lips to hers.

As he connected with her, a bolt of lightning shot through him as her warm breath intertwined with his and the supple rose petal soft skin of her lips pressed into his. He bathed in the warmth of her body, even through the suit coat he wore, feeling her ribcage expand and contract with her breath. The world around him vanished from his senses, as if they were alone in a void - nothing else mattered than this woman and this moment. Drawing back slightly, separating his lips from hers so that there was still the faintest of sensation between them, he exhaled. Taking a brief breath he pressed to her lips again, a sort of longing hunger in his embrace - as if she were the only water that could slake his endless thirst and a fear that at any moment he might wake from this moment to find it a heart wrenching dream. Slowly pulling back just enough to right his head upward and lay his forehead against hers, he whispered to her with his eyes closed.

"I am glad you are nobody...somebody can be taken by anybody, but nobody remains true. There is only the now, and the ceaseless longing I will endure until next I am able to kiss you again. Were I to thirst to death spending my time with you in my arms and drinking nothing but your kiss, I would die happy and complete."