102.The Real Dakota Black

“Good. I’ll see you at 7 then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you too at 7.” I retort, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through me.

I hear a hint of a smirk in his voice as he softly says, “Bye, Ms. Stone.”

“Bye, Mr. Black.” I whisper, just before the call ends. 

A smile surfaces on my face, and I don’t even know why I am smiling. I shake my head and curiously checkout the new space, which he has always kept locked.

It feels like he has opened a hidden door of his life, allowing me to see the real him. Not what the media shows. The *real* Dakota Black. 

I run my fingers through his shirts, feeling the fine quality of cotton and silk blend that speaks volumes about his taste. 

It’s clear that Dakota is a man of class who values his appearance and someone who is always ready to step out in style.

In the corner, I notice an impressive collection of designer shoes. At least twenty expensive pairs lay out, almost in a teasing way. Leather, Italian boots, loafers, handcrafted oxfords and remaining are running shoes.

A Scorpio part of me wants to grab one shoe from each pair and laugh evilly while I toss them at Hades and Zeus.

But then, psycho part of Dakota will surely keep me caged here forever in his haunted castle with his scary personality.

*Plus, he has been not too bad these days!*

I open one of the top drawers to find silk ties along with cufflinks, tie-pins, pocket squares, all arranged meticulously, and in another drawer I find wallets, and a collection of exotic perfumes and colognes, smelling just like him.

Other top drawers contain his briefs, handkerchiefs and socks, all organised accurately. *He is a damn neat freak!*

Opening the lower drawer, I spot an old leather jacket carefully wrapped in soft papers. It appears worn out, with its leather breaking apart from the collar and wrist areas. 

Dakota must cherish it deeply to have kept it in such a state with care.

Beneath the jacket, a collection of chains, pocket knives, and knuckle metals lies hidden, hiding beneath the jacket, hinting a darker side of him. 

I close the drawer and move to another lower drawer, finding crayon drawings of robots, cars, space shuttles and planets, he probably made as a child. 

Birthday and Christmas cards, maybe from someone special, a broken red colour spider-man watch, movie tickets of Star Wars, and lots of certificates he won in running, high jump, boxing. 

I notice how on all these certificates, only his name is written.. *Dakota*. Without any last name.

It makes me wonder.. *Is Black really his last name?* 

It sounds more like a name of his alter personality.

Digging deeper, I discover more personal items: Mails from Washington university, letters of admission and scholarships. A confidential envelope catches my eye, and I curiously open it to find an offer letter from Tesla.

My heart sinks and I feel a pang of sadness, thinking how much it meant to him, almost like a dream come true, that he has still kept it safely.

Several photographs slide down from the envelope, drawing my attention. I pick one of them and see a group of young children sitting together, what looks like a class picture. 

I grab another photo and see a small child cleaning a car. He has dark hair, and a smile so happy, so innocent yet familiar looking, which almost melts my heart. 

*Dakota looked so adorably cute in his childhood!*

Another picture shows the same boy playing in the sand alongside a little girl with two ponytails. They look cheerful, while blissfully smiling in the camera, almost like childhood friends. Maybe from his orphanage. 

Curiously, I pick another photo of that same boy and girl, but this time with a man in suit and a woman in an elegant dress, standing in front of what looks like a grand three-storey home, almost like a mansion. 

In one glance it appears like a family photo, which only deepens my confusion.. 

*Didn’t Dakota say he was abandoned by his parents and raised in an orphanage?* 

But these photos paint a different picture, suggesting a presence of a family in his life, perhaps even a sister. 

I stare at the picture and suddenly, my gaze falls on the nameplate of the mansion behind, and my eyes widen in shock as I read- *Damison Dwelling.*

A chill runs down my spine as I realize it’s not Dakota in the pictures, but.. 

My eyes surf back to the picture of the small boy cleaning the car. It has dark hair, and dark eyes, just like him.

A gasp leaves my lips, realizing it’s not Dakota.. *but Ryan!*

Curiously, I look through the other photo, taking in the striking resemblance between the two young kids playing in the sand.

It’s unmistakably Ryan and Rose!

*I almost thought he was Dakota.*

But why? Why would he have these pictures of Ryan?

That too carefully preserved in an envelope, like a precious memory!

I bite my lips anxiously, feeling a whirlwind of questions in my head, wondering if Dakota already knew Ryan from his childhood? Or he just kept these pictures as a token of friendship?

But why to even bother keeping it? *Especially of someone like Ryan.*

I look up and my eyes meet with the little camera in the corner. Shit! I place the pictures safely back in the envelope and close the drawer, with my heart racing and mind racing even faster.

I thought I solved Dakota’s mystery, only to know it was just the tip of the iceberg.