Sample 2

There is a man standing by the window, his hands touching the glass gently to look at the night sky without a star and untouchable. He jerks his head back when he hears the door open.

“Hello?” The man stares at Jewel with wide eyes, tone light and confused.

The girl drops her gaze to the ground, seeing the string runs from her left hand to the other’s. It shines bright ruby red. She gulps and tries to put on her best smile.

“Good evening. I’m Daffodil and i’ll be at your service for the night. Please take good care of me.” She gives him a light bow, schooling her face in a careful neutral expression, before looking up to see he him stiffs in surprise.

He’s got a nice figure and a friendly face, his glasses make him seems older. His thin lips part and for a moment, neither of them say anything. Then realization hits him and his face turns deep pink as he avoids the girl’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “It must be some kind of mistakes. I-i didn’t, umh, order anything.” His voice trails off.

“I know you didn’t”, Jewel manages a laugh, “your friend Victor send words to you that he wishes you the best and have a good birthday night“. She says is as casually as possible, moving in closer to the man, not invading his personal space but close enough to have a good look at him. Thick eyebrows, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, yet the corners of his eyes radiate warmth and kindness.

He doesn’t know. There’s a voice inside her head. He doesn’t know anything.

The man’s eyes turn even wider as he shuffles nervously from his place.

“Those troublesome bastards.” He lets out a low cruse, remembering about the big gift his friends have promised him, than turns every embarrassed by his own words. “I’ve told them many times to not interfere with my love life. I mean, i’ve been concentrating on my study and my researches and all, and i know a lot of people use sex as a stress reliever, but that’s not me! I, i just, … It’s, like, completely normal to stay a virgin at my age, right? I’m, like 26, today.” He asks, sounding both questioningly and apologetically.

He’s my age. He’s so pure. The girl suddenly wants to cry.

Jewel shrugs, failing to hide the sarcasm in her voice. “I’ve no comment with that.”

“So, umh, yeah”, he coughs in his hand, unconsciously waving the glowing string around, “i’m good, alone, totally fine on my own. Thank you for coming and sorry for wasting your time. I’m, uh, good.” He tabs one off his shoes behind the other, keeping himself from rocking in his heels. He grins shyly. He’s got a nice smile.

Jewel smiles, stepping closer to lean in his chest. “The service is already payed. I can’t be that unprofessional.” She reaches to wrap her arms behind his waist, tipping on her toes and tilting her head to look up at him. “Do you who how much a man normally pays for a night like this?”

His pale blue sky eyes waver lightly as he gulps, than quickly turns away. “How much?”

“Five thousands for the room. Another eight for me.” Jewel hums.

The man looks dumbfounded and terrify at the same time. “I, uh, i, woah, that’s expensive!”

“So don’t waste your friends’ care and money.” Jewel feels like she’s just let out a laugh that isn’t hers as she shoves the man into the bathroom. “I promise to make it worth your while.” She laughs again, then close the door.

As she waits for the man, her soulmate, her client, to shower, Jewel collapses on the bed, burying her face in her hands.

Don’t cry! Don’t cry! She can’t breakdown. Not yet, not now.

When she hears the water stops, her heart almost stops with it. Almost. Her chest twists painfully and her eyes burns.

Not yet. Not now.

Jewel swallows her tears in and puts on her sweetest customers’ smiles.

To a Flower, to a pick-up girl in general, serving the client is not an option, but an obligation. And right now, she isn’t Jewel. She’s a Flower of pride, Daffodil.

The night goes in a gorgeous heated blur.

 

The next morning, Jewel finds herself do something she haven’t done for a long time since she’s become a Flower.

She leaves before her client wakes up.

 

It’s not until she’s closed the creaking old door of her apartment behind her back, that she’s let herself slid down on her heels. Burying her head between her knees, her tears finally fall freely and uncontrollably. She grits her teeth to retain the sobs, but her low whimpering’s alarmed Linda.

“Where have you been all night? What happened?” She asks worriedly, noticing her friend’s unusual condition. She dashes to kneel beside Jewel, cupping the other’s face in her hands.

“…i met him”, Jewel whisper between shallow breaths, “i met him”. She grabs Linda’s arms with shaky fingers, her voice hitches with every word.

“Who?” Linda frowns, but is given no answer. Then something inside her click, “oh”, her face melts into a mix of empathy and sadness.

“I’m sorry.” She pulls Jewel into a hug, resting the other’s weigh on her shoulders, running small circles on her back. “Oh, honey, it’s okay”, she soothes, low and husky, “we’re okay”.

She lets Jewel cries to sleep.

 

.

 

Jewel grew up seeing the string dangling in the air around her, running from people’s hand through the walls and into thin air. She didn’t know what it was, she didn’t dare telling anyone. Because three years old Jewel had asked her friend in kindergarten if she could see those tiny thread, and the girl’d yelled at her and called her a freak. It’d taken her parents forever to get it out of her.

“What’s is wrong with me?” The little girl cried in her mother’s chest. Her mother’s face soften as she cooed at her child. “Oh no, honey, nothing’s wrong with you.” She assured the girl. “It’s just a very rare gift.”

“Does that mean i’m in trouble?” Jewel asked nervously.

“My baby, that means you’re special!” Her father grinned, his tone warm and cozy. He took Jewel from her mother’s arms to hug her a kiss her cheeks.

The man bounced his daughter in the air and blew bubbles on her hands, making the girl screamed in delight.

“Really? Daddy?” She squealed. “Really!” He nodded firmly, giving her one last peck.

The two adults shared a silent gazed of relief when Jewel finally beamed. It’s almost unheard of. But as long as it didn’t affect their daughter’s well-being, it’s always considered a gift.

Strangely, the little girl noticed, her mother and father shared a string.

 

As Jewel got older, she realized that the strings connect people, sometime more than just two people. And she slowly realized that these people hold special place in eachother’s life. They shared, they fit and they completed one another. They were soulmates.

Though unlike what the movies and novels often emphasized, you didn’t always fall in love with yours. In fact, there were more platonic soulmates than any other kind.

But Jewel’d always been a romanticist. She knew, she didn’t know how or when or why, but she knew, that she’d fall in love with her soulmate. Whoever they were, wherever they were. Just like her parents did.

 

There was another thing about Jewel, she’s very traditional.

 

.

 

“Yeah. I’m good. How is school?” Linda chuckles softly into the phone, nodding along as her sister’s animated voice comes through the speaker.

“And this subject is super hard.” The smaller whines, “i don’t want to study anymore”. Her high school entrance exam is next summer, so all revisions are intense. The poor little girl is stressed. “When are you coming home, big sis?”

“Don’t neglect your homework”, Linda scolds her lightly, then her voice thinned to a whisper, “and you know why i can’t”. The brown hair girl clutches her phone tightly, eyes narrowing at the ground.

“I know. I just wish you were here.” Her sister cries. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too buttercup.” Linda closes her eyes, making low soothing noises at the phone. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll study hard. Just, don’t leave me, okay? I love you so much, big sis.”

“I promise you, sweetheart. Love you, too.” Linda ends the call with a long, tired sigh.

Soon, she tells herself, she’s almost there.

 

Linda’s mother got pregnant again when she was eleven. Her parents were extremely excited. Linda, however, had determined to hate the thing to her guts. She didn’t want to share her parents’ love with anyone else. What she’s got was already too little.

But when the cute baby girl was finally born, she found herself wavering.

Her sister grew up, her family’s business went down, and so did her parents’ attitude. Linda’d known that it was bad, but she hadn’t known how bad it’d be. It terrified her. She’d do anything to protect her little sister.

She had, and she’d do more if necessary.

 

Linda flops down the couch, resting her head on the back, covering her face with her hand. Her sister used to hate her for leaving her alone. She used to cruse her for refusing to meet or speak to their parents. She used to cry, beg, for her to come home. But all the hatred and resentment had died down two years ago.

Her sister knows, about everything. With her intelligence, she must have figured out, and she’s smart enough not to say anything. She just became whinnier and more affectionate, at least through the phone and on the rare occasion that they meet. She’s grown into this sweet cream puff, yet energetic and brave with fire in her eyes. God, Linda misses her terribly.

Linda runs her hands through her hair and lets out a short huff as she glances at the other side of the couch. She has to stays strong. It’s not about her right now.

Jewel’s curling in a corner, winding the air around her fingers and her wrist. She grabs and presses her thumb and index finger together, pulling the air like a stand of hair.

Linda can’t see it, but she knows it’s the shorter’s red string.

She inchs closer to hug Jewel, leaning the other’s head on her shoulder. She strokes her friend’s hair gently, reaching to untangle the later’s fingers and lace their hands instead. Jewel’s knuckles have turned all white.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks. She feels her friend shaking her head immediately, then stops, and gives a weak nod.

“…i felt it”, Jewel says after a long silent, “i felt the bond”. She tries desperately to hold her sobs in.

 

Jewel’s got this trick, an unique one that only she and Linda know about. Jewel can touch the string, she can not only see them, but touch them too. And while serving the client, she usually tugs the string lightly to give the client more sensation, a little pulse in their core to satisfy their lust faster, and to keep them coming back. But it never worked both ways, it never did. Because to her, even if the client becomes a regular, they’re just strangers. No more, no less.

She bites the inside of her cheeks until there is a tangy taste of blood in her mouth. She can’t stop herself from shaking.

Last night, when she tugged the string out of habit, her heart’s hitched in her chest and her stomach’s twisted painfully. Mean while, the man’s reached his climax right the next second. She’s almost stopped breathing that moment. It wasn’t meant to be like that. She wasn’t suppose to feel anything out of that simple gesture. But she did!

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

 

Linda tighten her arms around Jewel while the other cries her heart out.

She runs soothing circles on the later’s back, knowing it could never give her friend enough comfort. She chews on her lower lips to prevent her own sobs from bursting out.

Sometimes Linda wonders, although she desperately tries not to, she wonders how her relationship with Albert, her soulmate, would be, or how Jewel’s relationship with hers would be, if they’re just like any other ordinary girls. She wonders why the string existe, and why did the universe decide to tide a person of her world with anybody, if they’ll never be accepted doing what they do no matter the reason.