XIX. Vanity Sells (1)

Raine’s POV:


The streets were cruel, swarmed with shoppers and honking horns. Helen paid the driver and I grabbed my purse. I held it firmly against my stomach.

Helen looks at me and the smile on her face disappears.

“What?” I ask.

“You look like someone who stepped out of her house for the first time in her life,” she responds. It wasn’t far from the truth. I’m certain I have an arrow over my head that says - I’m stupid. Rob me.

“Better be safe than sorry,” I said.

She grabs my hand, removing it from the hardness of the gun inside my purse. “You need to chill. It’s a shopping plaza. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

A year ago, that would be my mindset. What’s the worst thing that can happen? It’s so casual to think that, to believe that. Particularly before you witnessed a murder scene, got kidnapped, drugged, beat up, separated by the only family member you have left, and then thrown into another world.

Now, all I can see is that bad. All I see is: what could’ve happened, not what couldn’t happen.

Imagination is a painful and tiresome ability. Inside my mind, I create scenarios that are unlikely to happen - or so I may assume.

During my first few weeks in this world, I rarely slept because I thought I was drugged into a coma. In reality, I’m being carried away into another country and being sold off into prostitution. A scenario that would’ve happened if the truck didn’t crash into the ocean.

A part of me still believes I’m still in a coma state unwillingly to face reality.

Right now, as my eyes wander around to see everyone bustling left and right; chitter chattering with others while carrying massive shopping bags. It makes me want to collapse to the ground. I can’t stop wondering if someone will drag me into an alley later or stab me in public.

Helen squeezed my hand, “We’re waiting in line. The store is closed. There will be other people and no one will take you without taking me.” Her attempts to reassure me only causes my anxiety to grow. It made me remember how mom sacrificed herself to keep me alive.

Helen smiles and leads me to the mall. The outside was extravagant but the inside made me speechless. It was a grand central with glasses and potted plants everywhere. When we pass by a plant, I touch it - it’s real. It reassures me to see security cameras and guards in nearly every corner.

Instead of being on her phone, Helen would hold my hand and talk to me while I lick the ice cream she purchased earlier. I can’t help but smile. Helen reminds me of my mom. She would do the same thing when I was younger. After dad passed, I got extreme social anxiety and thus my unhealthy addiction toward games. Inside the gaming world, there’s no one that can hurt me except for the relative smack talk.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t social anxiety. It was an escape. The same reason why I applied for a scholarship to a boarding school.

To hide from it all.

Mom knows why I did it which why she fully supported my decision to leave town. Sometimes, especially during moments like this, I regret my decision.

How I run away from my problems.

If I knew that one day I would be separated by the only person I have left, I wouldn’t have left her all alone in that house.

Mom couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t move on.

Helen squeezes my hand and I look up from the white tiles, “We’re almost there,” she squeals. Her legs bending and unbending continuously like a hyperactive puppy.

I smiled as we took another step closer. In a sense, I was proud of myself. I haven’t had a single panic attack.

I didn’t know how long we stood in line, but my legs were aching. I lean against the glass window and exhale slightly. My hands are sticky from the melting ice cream and I want to wash them but I don’t want to go to the restroom by myself.

A lady came out and smiled, “Here’s your ticket to enter,” she said. They handed out tickets earlier but they ran out so the associates had to go get more from the back of the store.

Vanity sells.

The associate informs us that the ticket will allow us to enter the store to purchase our desired item, but we’re not allowed to enter twice. However, once we’re inside the store, the ticket is invalid and we will have to wait again. She stamps both of our wrists and in mere seconds, the drawing of a cross disappears. My eyes narrow, attempting to make head and tail of it. It looks like two swords. I peek past the line to see a long line inside the store.

And the regrets reappear.

My bladder.

“Are you okay?” Helen asks.

“I need to pee,” I whisper.

Helen looks around and I follow her sight to the nearest bathroom across the plaza. It wasn’t far from where we’re lined up. Helen’s face scrunched up but she didn’t say anything. It was up to me to make the decision.

I can wait in line until we purchase the item and potentially not piss in my pants or I can pee now and rush back in line with Helen since I have a ticket to my rightful position.

The biggest problem is that if we both left our place in line, we may have to wait again in the back. The ticket of admission is simply to ensure no one cuts.

“Can you hold?” Helen asks.

I shook my head, “I feel like I’m about to explode,” I said. We’ve been in line for almost five hours.

“I’m sorry,” Helen apologized once more. “I’ll treat you to dinner right after this.” She feels guilty, I know it. She shouldn’t though. Helen had been doing everything she could to make me feel comfortable during the whole trip.

I bit my lower lip and rushed towards the restroom.

Someone grabs my arm and my eyes widen, “Are you selling your ticket?” A young girl asks.

I shook my head.

“I’ll pay you. Two hundred for your ticket.”

I looked at Helen who was glaring at the girl. She took a step forward.

“No. No. It’s my ticket.” I removed her hands and ran towards the restroom. As much as I love to make an extra buck, I already promise a friend; I’ll help her out.

I’m grateful for the lack of line at the mall. In all honesty, I was ready to shoot for the males’ bathroom. Then, force myself to look down in embarrassment afterward.

The moment I stepped inside the proper restroom, my desire to pee de-escalate. I had to admire the bathroom. There was a nice pink sofa in the corner, glass bowls to wash hands in, and it smells like lemon. There’s even a lady in the corner with a candy bowl. If this is the second largest mall bathroom, I wonder what the largest mall looks like. Here I am, at the mall and I think about bathrooms.

I shot for a stall to witness odd buttons on the side of the toilet. There’s a click behind me and I turned around to see the wall says, occupied, in bright red. The stall automatically locks itself. I feel like I entered a horror movie. “What in the fu-” I didn’t finish the sentence and went for it. Something better not shoots up my ass. Once I finished, I stared at the multiple buttons. “Excuse me.”

“Yes?” The lady from outside the stalls responds.

“Which one is the flushed button?”

“The blue one.”

I look down to see three blue buttons, “Which blue one?”

“The third blue one.”

“From the top or bottom?”

“Top.”

I press the button and squeal when I feel something warm. Immediately, I pulled my pants up and stared at the swirling bowl. I did not expect to feel something warm up my butt. I unlock the stall and rush towards the sink. It’s automatic. I grab the paper towel.

“Candy?” The lady asks.

I shook my head, “No thank you.” As much as I enjoy consuming sweets, I think I’ll pass on bathroom food.

I lowered my head and made my way towards the store. My phone buzzes and I grab it to see Wolfie’s name. I’ve been avoiding him ever since I started this trip. My lower lip inches through my teeth and I pick up the call. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

My finger side down the strap of the purse, “How are you?”

“Good.” His voice was sweet and scratchy like he has a cold. “You’re finally picking up my call.”

“I’m on a trip with my friend so things are a bit busy.”

He laughs, “I can hear that.”

“I’m sorry for not picking up. It’s just-” I sat down on the bench. “I needed some time to think things through.”

“I understand. I was being a bit too pushy and I apologize for that. It’s just-” a momentary silence, “I like you alot and this is the first time I actually like a girl this much.”

I exhale steadily, “I like you too.”

“You know I didn’t choose to participate in this whole soulmate thing.”

“I know,” I said. I swallow the lumpy sensation inside my throat. “But, you know. Having to know who your soulmate is...not bad.”

“I know. It’s fortunate. I should be very grateful because not many other species get this privilege.” He smacks his lips. “But, I still want you to know. If I didn’t have this mating bond hanging over my head. I would love it if you gave me a chance.”

At that moment, a grey cloud hung over my head. The more we talked about what could’ve happened, the more depressed I got. The mating bond was an excuse. I could never be together with the guy on the other side of the phone. It’s not possible. I can’t develop feelings for someone, anyone, in this world.

Maybe, that’s the reason why I kept Helen and Cory at arm’s length. The more you feel for someone, the harder it gets to leave.

I don’t want to leave without my heart.

“I would love to give us a chance too.”

“Even if I am a forty years old man with a sweet voice living in my parent’s basement?”

I laugh, “Well, that may change things.”

“I got something to show you,” he said. “Check your messages.”

Sometimes Wolfie and I send pictures to each other. We don’t do it often and it’s mainly photos of random items. I scroll through my messages to find a photo of a smile.

I swallow at the picture.

Perfect teeth inside perfect plump lips.

I couldn’t see the upper half of his face, but I can tell he’s really good looking.

My eyes narrow to see a nice place in the background. Wolfie got money. Damn it mating bond and differences in worlds!

I place the phone back against my ear, “You’re showing off.”

“A little bit.” He hums slowly, “How do I look?”

“I’ve seen better.” I can see Helen entering the store. “Why did you send that?”

“To assure you that you’re not speaking to a forty something-year-old man.”

I laugh, “Okay. Wait.” I took a photo of my legs and sent it to him. “Check your messages.”

I wait for a moment until he returns. “That’s all I get? How do I know you’re not an old lady with nice legs?”

Everyone continues to bustle around me, but I’m lost in the conversation with the guy on the other side of the phone. “Oh yeah. I’m a cougar. Reeling in those youthful desperate young boys.”

“Hey,” he said softly. “Even if we can’t be together. Is it okay if we still talk?”

“Desperate for a friend?” I question teasingly.

His silence said all.

“Sure,” I respond. “We can be friends and maybe, one day, we’ll meet.”

“I would like that. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For talking things through with me instead of ghosting me. I really appreciate that Little Piglet. Truly.”

A smile broke out on my face. “Thank you for telling me how you feel. If things were different-” much more different, “then I would’ve wanted to give us a chance.”

“That’s nice to know.”

I couldn’t see Helen anymore. “I got to go.”

“Talk later?”

“Yeah.”

“Goodbye Little Piglet.”

“Goodbye, Wolfie.”