July 2, 7 pm
"Your total bill for today is 8.200 dollars, including tax, Miss Taylors."
"Way less than last time!" I said, while taking out a fat cash stack on the counter.
The sales associate took my brand new, seemingly never used after printing machine cash pile and put it in the counting machine. Each $100 bill flicked through the counting device, making a sound that would make anyone happy.
"What a melody, isn't it?" I joked while impatiently waiting for my shopping bag full of ready-to-wear items from the newest Prada collection.
It's been 2 months since I made an almost conscious decision to keep both men in my life, balancing out my privacy and mental well-being like a circus man. Since then, my life has been great, and by great, I genuinely mean satisfaction in every aspect of my life.
Nothing to say about the school graduation, as my exam results were mediocre. I spent not a single tear regarding that, as I was checking exam results drunk, sitting on the bathroom floor, braless, as I was sexting with Alexander. Everyone in my life, especially him, cheered me up and suggested I take a gap year to make up my mind and really think about which major I want to study. My historical knowledge comes to mind only in vivid dreams; otherwise, this hobby is dead. There were days when I would spend hours in philosophy, wondering whether this interest stemmed only from my "previous" life.. Thus saying, my new hobby became shopping, living with a constant adrenaline rush from hiding the truths.
There is something nice in being raised in a poor, unfulfilled household where you were emotionally neglected and consistently abused. My lying and hiding skills made me nearly invincible, as each week my safety box was loading with cash while the trash can was filling up with empty envelopes from random hotels. My sponsor is head over heels with my "mattress skills", as he usually meets me when I am slightly, or not so, tipsy, masking it all with an endless amount of mint bubblegum. I even went on a short trip to Los Angeles with him, which gave me extra earnings and almost a whole new wardrobe, which I am sharing with Rita now. Speaking of her, she has reconnected with her beloved Phil, or Phillip, and they appear to be doing well, as he bought her a culinary course. She is less eccentric about her past career, as quitting her "red light" and sticking to Phil made her unchained from just sex work. I am living off my contract job, and my best friend is living her life under a sponsorship, too.
Apart from my contract employment for Mr. Montrose, I was getting closer to Riven, which made us official boyfriend and girlfriend in early June. We still practice resisting upgrading our relationship to a new, sexual level, which sometimes reminds me of a religious couple who follow celibacy before marriage. I developed a great schedule to meet him, as we would spend more time when I am free from Alexander's duty, aka my period week. Our dates are generally simple, such as park picnics, movie nights, or cart racing. His choice of time spent is way different from Alexander's, which significantly highlights the difference between these two men. For one, I would constantly be on the edge of drunk to ignore his "love", while for the other, I was sober to get as drunk as I possibly could on his love.
Notably, for my plan, Riven set aside asking any more questions about my place of residence, as he started organising an "incognito" taxi to our date destination and paid for it when I reached, instead of picking me up. To this day, which is just one day until my 19th birthday, Riven has not been introduced to Rita, but this is about to change soon.
I walked out of the Prada store with yet another new designer outfit and accessories. New York's summer is one of my favourite times of the year, as I always enjoyed walking through the city's different areas, exploring new places, and trying ice cream from new shops almost every day. This summer is way different: my personal driver is taking me anywhere I request, and instead of ice cream, I am buying designer brands, depending on my mood or Mr. Montrose's desire. His preference is seeing me in Prada's outfits, as he said, "Devil wears Prada, but you rock it", and I feel the same about it.
The catch is that, for any new or other designer purchase, I can't show it to Riven. In his eyes, I am an average-income family girl who respects her body and follows her older sister's rules.
Today's evening set a great start to my pre-birthday night. It is way different than my 18th birthday or any birthdays I had before. Most importantly, it has been enough time to reach the milestone of conscious celibacy, and most likely tomorrow will end with me seeing what's hiding under Riven's clothes. There is no such thing that would give me more excitement than finally allowing myself to feel all the benefits of a relationship with Riven. He has been hinting to me that he is in charge of my birthday, as I was invited to my own small party with Rita a few weeks prior.
As I was about to walk into another store to buy some mass-market clothes for everyday life, I heard a phone buzzing in my Miu Miu leather bag. There are only three people in my life's circle who can call me, but based on experience, Mr. Montrose never called me before, so I assume it is either Rita or Riven. But my guess is wrong, as I got an unidentified number calling. Barely holding my bag in one hand and a huge shopping bag in the other, I managed to take out the phone and answer.
"Hello?"
"Good evening, is that Miss Charlotte Taylors?"
"Yes, it is me. Who is that?"
"Ahley Taylors wishes to speak to you..."
My heart dropped to my feet. Time froze. My jaw stuck in opening position, and my eyes went wide, most likely making me look like a ghost mask from the Scream movie, but without a smirk on my face. I quickly snapped back to reality and the only thing I could say was:
"...Don't call me! Who gave you my number?! It is an invasion of privacy!"
I ended the call and immediately blocked the caller's contact.
How did she find out my phone number? Was it Chester's help? There is no meaning in digging for the answer, as I am not interested in it anyway. No information from her will heal or cure me. Chester is not guilty, and he may not deserve to be blocked by me, but his ignorance in taking action to make our lives better by pushing mom to recover always equals zero, so he is partially an enemy to me because of that.
This short but body-shaking call made me lose interest in shopping, so I dialed John to pick me up instead. He is always parking nearby, so he reached me quickly.
"Another successful shopping day, Miss Charlotte?" he smiled, then opened the car's trunk to put a bag in.
"Don't tell Mr.Montrose I bought all of it! It is a surprise!"
John blinked at me as a sign of "yes" and opened the back door for me, as always.
As we drive home, I feel no desire to listen to music, yet I know that pushing myself to do so would lift my mood and help me forget about the call incident more quickly.
"John, I want to listen to alternative rock today..."
"Great choice, Miss Charlotte. I love this genre too.", stated John and started searching for an appropriate playlist.
"Lately, I love this genre! I got it introduced to me by Riv..."
Oh no, overcomplimenting myself for lying and masking almost got me caught, "...Rita! You know her right? She loves rock and alternative so much!", as my lips finished the sentence nervously.
"It is a music that opens your soul.", kindly replied John, as he ignored my verbal slip.
*Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve starts playing*
This song is not the best choice to listen to before a birthday. What does this song mean by "no things I can change" and "but I am here in my mold"? I am doing great, and my apartment has no mold, unlike the other one I used to live at!
"John, please turn it off."
John quickly lowered the sound, and we spent the rest of the drive in silence.
July 2, 8:03 pm
As I am just a few steps from the apartment's door, I sensed a delicious smell of baked chicken and something carb-loaded. This must be Rita's cooking, as she is exceptionally well progressing in her culinary skills, making her one of the top students in the academy. Since her first successful cooking attempt, she has been feeding both of us every single day. I rush to open the door and try the food, as the smell made me salivate within seconds.
"Rita, what is this?! Is that a chicken?" my starving stomach screamed to her from inside my body, as it didn't know it needed food so much.
"I am almost finished! It will be a chicken parmigiana if I don't overcook it now!"
"I don't mind it raw, 'cause it smells so good!"
I walked to the kitchen and saw a fully decorated dining table with pink and purple napkins, glittery tableware, a Bath & Body Works candle in the center, and a few small flower bouquets. To sum it up, Rita's interior and decor taste is a concussion of early 2000s Paris Hilton and 80s cocaine diva. She decorated the table exactly how she would redo this apartment. Likely for me, Alexander doesn't allow significant changes, as her changes would be dramatic!
Rita rushed to serve up the food on a table, as we were clearly both starving. "Here you go, almost nineteen-year-old lady!"
"I am starving to eat but also I have a crazy story to tell you..."
Both Rita and I sat, and as I was about to share with her my mom's call story, she interrupted the air flow coming out of my mouth:
"I gotta serve the wine for this, no matter what! We have to start celebrating!" Rita pronounced these words with pure excitement and sprinted to the fridge. She prepared a few wine bottles for this evening, tomorrow's pre-dinner "game," and whatever is left, we will finish after the birthday dinner. As Rita was opening an icy cold bottle of wine, I started sharing my hot news:
"It started well. I got a new Pradas, and was about to go into the next store when suddenly an unknown number called me. I picked it up, and it was someone who knew my name. The plot twist was that someone was asking me to talk to my mom! That someone said ASHLEY TAILORS wants to talk!"
Rita passed me a glass of wine and remained silent. I started staring at her, waiting for her to say something.
"So what did you do? I don't think you actually talked to her...", said Rita as she sipped her wine while putting a big piece of chicken parmigiana from a pan with a fork.
"Of course I blocked this number! I am not killing my birthday mood this year! Enough!", and my lips met with a condensation-filled wine glass, as I finished a small rant with a big chug of wine.
"I think you did exactly what you should do. Maybe she wanted to wish you a happy upcoming birthday?"
"That's odd. I am more shocked that she found my new phone number, and she used someone to talk to me!" my lips touched a wine glass again, winning Rita in a non-existent wine consumption competition.
"You have a big day tomorrow. There is absolutely no reason for you to waste yourself on some odd call! Just try my chicken and move on, your life is great!"
As I was eating perfectly cooked Rita's chicken parmigiana, I still had a few more thoughts about this evening's call. Once again, Rita never lies to me, and her words might sound severe at times, but she always speaks the truth in tricky life situations.
Shortly after, I started feeling wine enter my brain, slowly relaxing my muscles and overall nervous system. Within a span of those two months, I developed an odd reflex, which tells me to reach for Alexander when I am tipsy or even drunk. This is something I am proud of because making money and fulfilling my contract responsibilities have become easier than ever before. My brain associates alcohol intoxication with upcoming sexual intercourse, and this intercourse is not driven by my pure emotional desire.
Rita doesn't know about it, as I stopped sharing much of my sexual relationship, focusing only on my real relationship with Riven. This "reflex" is a blessing and a curse for me, because once it is turned on, I find it pretty challenging to control my further wine consumption. Today's evening isn't one of those crazy nights when I can keep drinking wine, because none of them know I have this pattern. There is a part of me that wants to confess my alcohol affair to Alexander, but I am scared of his reaction...So, hiding the truth it is.
I have to force myself to stop sipping wine now, so I quickly switch the focus of my dinner with Rita, which was going great as we kept talking about tomorrow.
"I am down for some dessert and a tea! How about you? Did you reserve the space in your stomach?" I asked Rita as my body started performing ultra-fast cleaning of the dining table, putting away wine first.
"How did you find out I made a dessert too?!", pronounced Rita with amazement in her voice, not realising I had noticed a tiramisu in a glass bowl as soon as I entered the kitchen.
"A little bit of wine makes me psychic!"
I couldn't help but joke, since it looks like Rita is under a wine degree too, making us both tipsy way before my birthday starts. Rita approved my joke and helped me prepare tea to pair with tiramisu.
As I was eating this decadent, slightly bitter dessert, I caught myself tasting something weird, tingling my tongue. The same exact feeling I had when I tried wine for the first time.
"Rita...", said my mouth as it tried to understand the taste better, "...is that a liquor in your tiramisu?"
"Yes, it is the original recipe! You don't like?!"
"No...I just didn't expect our dinner theme would be "get wasted off dessert"!"
"Ha-ha, silly, the amount of alcohol is so little there! It won't do anything!"
We both laughed and spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about how we met, my first dates with Alexander and Riven, how I came home after losing virginity, my first significant money milestone, etc. Talking with Rita is always a bittersweet medicine for me, as I feel great after listening to her advice, but my recent secrets make me feel distant from her. As I look into her eyes and see how nurturing she is to me, I feel like an imposter in our friendship. She is not best friends with the same Charlotte as I am now, because my thoughts go through double filtration before saying anything out loud to her, simply because I am scared of what she will say to me. I am scared of her disappointment.
Suddenly, in the middle of her verbal rapping, she decided to ask me a simple question that made us both stare at each other:
"Charlotte, I am sure you are dreaming and fantasising about your first sex with Riven, and I am sure he is too, but will you tell him you are not a virgin?"
That's the question I thought about in my mind every time I got fucked by Alexander since the day I met Riven, and I met him exactly on the same day as this happened. Rita is my spontaneous reality check; that is why it hurts to talk with her sometimes. The more she knows about my life, the harder it hits when it is time to really reflect on what I have done.
"I never thought about how I would come out of this situation, to be honest with you."
My mood shifted from happy to slightly melancholic as the wine tends to intensify the full emotional spectrum.
Rita took my hand and looked at me, as her mind started brainstorming how to help me out in this icky case.
"You love him, right?", her eyebrows raised as she started talking.
"I think I am. At least this is what I hope I feel when I am around him."
"Well, in an ideal world, there should be no lies between you and someone you truly love, not use. In reality, it is all different. For a better future for both of you, you should cover it all up. Just act as a virgin when you have your first time with him."
"That is all? Just pretend when I clearly have a flag "I've been here. P.S. Alexander Montrose" on me?!"
"He loves you, so he won't even notice. The only person who knows the truth is YOU. Just tighten your muscles between your legs the moment he enters. This is a minor issue, and after the first minute of your passionate sex, you can relax and act normal!"
She could be an excellent sex coach. Perhaps she is right; it is an insignificant problem I don't have to worry about. Unlike Alexander, Riven is something I want to feel with every inch of my body. I want to savor the moment and enjoy as much as I can, and the fact that I am already skilled in bed makes me more excited to try it with Riven. For an apparent reason, Riven won't see my "bed skills" for a while, as I want to experience pure, vanilla sex.
"You might tell a joke, but I never heard a lie from you, Rita."
"I just don't want you to load yourself with unnecessary things. You are eighteen, you must enjoy your life! Riven is 100% excited to see you naked and definitely not self-sentric on your virginity. At the end of the day, he is not Mr.Montrose, who was obsessed with purity."
"Why do you think he doesn't care about it? He knows I am about to turn eighteen just now, doesn't it make a guy feel special?"
"No, young guys don't care about it. For an older man, it is like winning a jackpot, as virginity is bringing him back to his youth years, when he was responsible for breaking someone's sex shield."
Rita started laughing, while I just got fed not only with chicken and dessert, but also with food for thought.
"I love you, Rita! Thank you for such an amazing pre-birthday dinner. I am quite frankly tired, I want to sleep earlier to look fresh tomorrow."
"Oh, you will, honey, but before you go, as it is almost midnight, I want to present you my gift!"
Rita went to her bedroom and quickly returned with a small gift bag with a pink ribbon.
"This is for you!"
I started opening the bag, which contained a small velvet box.
"Is that jewelry?" I asked, almost realizing what is inside.
"Just open it!" Rita couldn't hold her excitement, as she wanted to see my reaction badly.
She gifted me a silver necklace with the word "Lotta" on it.
"It is a custom-made necklace. I thought, maybe, you would like your name in this variation. It is unique and not so basic as carrying your name on the chest."
No one ever called me Lotta. I was always called by my legal name, and seeing this necklace gave me another sign of how different I am and my life is now. I see myself using this nickname; at least I feel my heart's response to it.
"I love it! Thank you, Rita!"
Rita insisted on helping me put on the necklace, and I went to my bedroom wearing my new name-or, possibly, my alter ego, which is slowly taking away my identity. I no longer feel like Charlotte, yet I am not introduced to this world as Lotta.
Falling asleep is hard when your mind is tipsy and trying to race thoughts at the same time. Likely, my boyfriend called me before bed, which ended this chaotic race. Riven asked me how I feel about my upcoming birthday and what I want to do after the celebration.
Of course I want to do him. I am really uncertain about things and actions since I started living a new life, but I surely knew what I wanted to do after my birthday dinner. I told Riven I would love to spend time with him in privacy, to which he replied that he has an idea in mind. My hand ended the call quickly because I wanted to keep tomorrow's secrecy, and Riven is bad at keeping secrets, as he wants to make me happy prior to the actual happy moment. We wished each other goodnight and called it a day.
As I lay my head on the pillow, I met my new close friend- dizziness. This wine was great, which is why I faced the consequences. The day would be too great if consequences were only from alcohol, as Alexander messaged me, without giving a slight chance to fall asleep.
-Are you awake?
-Yes
-Happy birthday, my diamond.
-Thank you, Alexander
-John will pass you the gift tomorrow.
-Okay
I hope it is not a submissive sex costume, as it would be too corny and cheap for him.
-Before you fall asleep, I want you to video call me. NOW.
-I can send you my pictures. Why do you want a video?
-I want to see how you finish by looking at my hard dick
-Right now?
-Yes, I am very hard as I text you this. My wife is not in bed with me right now.
My nineteenth started with a virtual sex with Alexander, as he got a random erotic wave at midnight. I was trying my best to look as honest and real as possible. Our call finished within ten minutes, leaving him satisfied. Now I can finally call it a day…