Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 41
★
Rosita checked the time for the third time, wondering why Skylar wasn’t out of the house yet. She went in minutes ago, claiming she needed to go get something sorted, but she’s still nowhere to be found around here.
Renee checked her time too.
“What’s taking her so long?”
“I’ll go check on her,” Quincy offered, but before he could even take a step, Skylar finally emerged, still looking weirdly happy.
“You took long!” Rosita complained.
“I didn’t didn’t invite you guys to go with me, remember?” Skylar said bluntly.
“Mean bitch!” Renee sneered.
“Love the compliment, bitch.” Skylar gave her a chin tilt before getting regally on her bike.
Quincy grinned jovially, and Renee’s face instantly changed.
“You’re seriously unlikable, but what can I do? I like unlikable whores.” Rosita laughed as she got in her car.
“Let’s go!” Quincy opened the backdoor of Rosita’s car and faced Renee who looked enraged.
“I give up! I’m not going anywhere!” She spat.
Before he could get a hold of her, she rushed inside.
“Renee!” Quincy took a step.
“You going or not?” Rosita lowered her window, giving him a questioning stare.
He reluctantly got in the car, and immediately Rosita moved the car, he texted Renee.
Quincy: What’s up with you?
He got no reply.
He stayed greatly troubled throughout the ride.
Shortly, they arrived at Ayana’s house at the last lane. They met the witch outside the house this time. She was selecting strange charm beads on a long bench.
Her eyes weren’t white like they were the other time. This time, her eyes were normal.
Maybe because she’s outside.
She also looked ten times younger.
Skylar didn’t bother giving her bike a full stand. She pushed it aside and ran to the frontage.
Rosita and Quincy had to start struggling to catch up with her.
“Ayana! I need your help!” Skylar held the woman by her black dress.
The witch looked up from her beads.
Skylar felt chills all-over her as their eyes properly met for the first time.
“I want out of this city. I need my family. I’ll do anything to get help on how to go about it.”
“You have a special blood flowing through you.” The witch’s eyes refused to rotate in their sockets as she talked.
“I know…” Skylar nodded. “I know I’m Apex, and Satan stole me for her Null daughters cos of it.”
“Apex might be the lifeline of Null, but Apex don’t live long,” Ayana said and continued gathering her beads.
Skylar’s heart jumped.
“What do you mean?”
“The maddscientist who invented the whole system made sure that once an Apex starts transfusing to Null monthly, then the lifespan of the Apex will be cut short. They don’t live longer than mid-twenties.”
“No….” Skylar shook her head. “You’re lying…. saying I won’t live longer than 25?”
“You came here to ask questions cos you were sure I’d never deceive you.” Ayana gave her a stare again.
Skylar grabbed her forearms tightly, desperately.
“But there’s a way out….” The witch continued talking. “There’s only one ApexPlus human in this world, and legend says he’s a male. “Find him, connect with him, and your lifespan will automatically be elongated. He might be your key to finding your family too.” She shrugged.
“ApexPlus?” Skylar blinked.
“It’s the superior blood type. Find him quick, Skylar. There are so many Apex in this world looking for the very special ApexPlus male,” Ayana replied and faced her beads arrangements again.
“One last question.” Skylar swallowed. “Who’s the maddscientist? Is he dead? Or alive?”
Ayana acted like she wasn’t gonna answer at first, but then she shifted close slowly and leaned into Skylar ear.
She whispered something discreet, and Skylar nodded quick.
“Thank you, Ayana.”
Ayana didn’t reply to that.
Skylar left the frontage and jumped back down, meeting Quincy and Rosita exactly where she left them.
“I swear, immediately you entered the frontage, we couldn’t move. More like something tied us down here,” Rosita said in a rush.
“Did you meet the witch?” Quincy asked.
Skylar said nothing.
She only walked furiously to her bike, having one thing in mind… “I won’t die. Only stupid weaklings die. I won’t fuckin die.”
“Sky!” Rosita pulled her back. “Yeah your coldness is sexy, but don’t ignore me!”
Skylar wrapped her tightly by the neck immediately, squeezing her trachea wickedly till Rosita couldn’t breathe.
“There’s another blood type besides Apex and Null, and now I have to look for him if I want to live long because my monthly transfusion to you and your twin have been sucking away my lifespan!” She shouted.
Then she let go of Rosita roughly.
Rosita staggered, nearly falling, but Quincy quickly guided her.
With red eyes, Skylar got on her bike and thundered down the road.
“She’s brutal,” Quincy muttered. “You alright?” He stared at Rosita’s neck which had Skylar’s fingerprints.
“You’d be brutal too if you were like a slave whose blood got transfused to two girls monthly.” Rosita coughed, caressing her neck.
“At first, I didn’t want to believe the whole stuff about the strange blood types, but then I realized we’re in New Orleans where anything is possible. I want to be her friend and genuinely care for her, but she’s so hard to get to. She’s … cold.” Quincy said with a quiet sigh.
“I’m on my period now, but I don’t even wanna say it out cos I know mother would instantly take her blood for me,” Rosita said.
“Isn’t that risky for you?” Quincy asked. “I mean…if you don’t get transfused for one month.”
“She gave me her blood in a cup last month, and I still have some left to last me for the rest of the year. I’ll take a drop monthly, and I’ll manage,” Rosita confessed.
“Initially, I thought you were on the same level of cold with Skylar, but now I know you have a heart after all.” Quincy smiled.
“When did that thought start?” Rosita scoffed with an eye roll.
“When you made Roy bark like a dog!” Quincy laughed.
“You’re making me want to do it again. Roy is useless.” Rosita laughed slowly, still rubbing her neck. “By the way, what’s up with your sister? I’m really trying to not dislike her, but she’s a bitch. Is she adopted?”
“Never.” Quincy smiled. “We’re the only two childs of our parents, and if you see our parents, you’ve seen us cos we’re their carbon copies. Renee is just…not sociable.”
“Whatever.” Rosita started walking to her car, arms crossed.
“Are you going to the rave party tonight?” Quincy asked behind.
Before Rosita could reply, her phone cried in her pocket. She pulled it out with huge hope.
It was Blade, saved as Full Stop to avoid suspicions.
Full Stop: We meet at the rave. I miss you a lot.
She replied with a black heart emoji and faced Quincy.
“Yeah, I’m going to the rave.” She winked excitedly.
“Me too.” Quincy smiled back.
—
[Manhattan – Arden Global – Executive Top Floor]
Arturo had no plans to touch anything or do anything. His major goal here is to smile around and give words to the models, executives and the exclusive directors.
He established this company originally for the sake of El Crow anyways. Thirty years ago, he started work with only one thing in mind:
Have El Crow control it in the future.
El Crow had so many talents and hobbies as a child. He was a madly cheerful, joyful kid who’d put his mind on something and excel.
He saw horse riding in the movies and decided he was gonna master it.
He saw camping and car racing in the movies too, and he grew a liking for both. And he learned.
At 9, Arturo made sure he obtained a secret driving licence for him.
Hunting? He learnt that from his late grandpa who used to be fond of him.
But fighting career was what he inherited from Arturo as his father and Marisa as the mother.
He wanted to be like them—like Arturo, so he learned that too, and he became unbeatable.
But the only thing he didn’t see in the movies or learn from grandpa or learn from his parents…was fashion.
Fashion wasn’t an hobby for him. It was his talent and career.
He could wear a potato sack and still looked hot. He began styling himself as a kid, and it was nothing to just overlook because there was a time Arturo took him for cookies shopping spree and he drew the attention of two modelling gurus at the mall.
Arturo knew he had to take a step, so he took the step one by one till it became a modelling company which he named with the mixture of his own name and El Crow’s real name.
No living thing knew them as the owner. Even now, the world still think ARDEN belonged to a female.
But that’s the whole point.
The anonymity.
Arturo was sipping hot coffee as he strolled around the executive floor, smiling like a proud father. And he really is.
“Good morning, Founder. Last week’s NYC campaign was fabulous. Our first and last looks still occupy USA best-selling magazines and elite billboards. The nominations are insane! We’re choked with success!”
That statement came from one of the models in a studio room.
Arturo rewinded, lowering his coffee mug with a smug snicker.
The room was packed with the top models of ARDEN who all have grateful smiles on.
“Didn’t El do the casting himself? Any casting he’s involved in, you should know it’s a sure bet,” Arturo addressed.
“I think there’s a problem with the casting of the approaching fashion week, and now the casting director has been summoned to the CEOs office.” Another model informed.
“Seriously?” Arturo blinked, dropping his mug for the nearest model and rushed down the hallway.
Getting to the end, he saw the casting director rushing towards El Crow’s office with obvious panick.
“Poor him.” Arturo groaned. “Hope he doesn’t get fired.”
His phone beeped under his suit, and he stepped back to take it out.
“Jethro?” He sounded, contemplating on weather to pick or not.
Jethro was one of the people curious about his secret business.
Arturo had always hated the man, but now that they’re bound by El Crow’s relationship with Bellatrix, he couldn’t ignore the sly fox.
He picked the call.
“Prepare for a wedding in a week. No objections. Bellatrix will have your son next week. But beware that her surname is never changing. She’ll keep her surname. The only sign of marriage will be the ring she’d receive. Your son better prepare a huge rock for her finger,” Jethro poured the words endlessly.
“Copied.” Arturo nodded and ended the call, but now it’s hard.
He only told El Crow to date Bellatrix. He didn’t tell him there’d be a wedding. The El he knows is probably not even thinking of commitment.
So…what’s gonna happen?
He rested his head on the wall.
El Crow will never agree.
It’s absolute.
—
[CEO’s Office]
Carved from black-glass, sprinkled with limited lightbulbs, the broad office looked like a spacious representation of El Crow himself.
A large desk draped across him. He sat behind it, knuckles rested against the side of his head as he stared at the large flat-screened tablet in front of him, attached to the wall.
The casting lineup was staring right at him, but barely looking at it gave him headache. Still, he couldn’t stop looking, wondering the amount of negligence that birthed this.
The casting director came inside after giving the door a soft knock.
“Who approved the casting?” El Crow queried sleekly without turning to looked at him.
“I did.” The director nodded.
“And all the female models are of average height?” El Crow faced him with knotted brows. “Why is there no tall one in the lineup to balance the cast?” He queried continuously.
“The tall ones on the models list have all been used during last week’s campaign. I was thinking we shouldn’t repeat faces too much. It won’t speak well.” The director explained diligently.
“Are we short of models?” El Crow’s eyes turned cold. “Then go out there and scout! Scout for models! There are tall humans out there! Scout!”
“I get it, sir.” The director nodded once and stepped back.
“And inform the models. The conference starts by 11 and ends by 3. I have to be back in New Orleans by dusk.” El Crow added.
With another bow, the man left the office, and Arturo came in.
“What’s the sudden stuff with tall models?” He scoffed.
“You eavesdropping now?” El Crow swivelled his chair.
“No. But initially, you were more about their styling than their heights. Now you’re suddenly ranting about heights?” Arturo blinked.
El Crow looked away from his father, wondering what was going on too. Why was he concerned about the models heights than before?
“By the way…” Arturo sighed. “Petition to cancel Enigma just hit four thousand nine hundred. When it hits five thousand, we’re expected to get cancelled forever.”
“We’re going nowhere even if petitions hit a billion.” El Crow leaned forward. “Do they never learn? Has petitions ever worked?”
“It’s the New Orleans rave festival tonight…or is it rave party? We should do something to distract the streets. It’ll work,” Arturo said.
There was slicing silence, after which El Crow released a sigh.
“Leave it to me.”
“I trust you.” Arturo smiled and stepped back. “I’ll go prepare for the conference. You know I love hearing you lecture the models.”
El Crow hissed, and by the door, Arturo suddenly stopped…
“Actually…”
“Actually what?” El Crow stood. “You’re so fuckin annoying.”
“Nothing.” Arturo smiled, shaking his head before stepping out.
He actually wanted to tell him about the fixed wedding, but he lost his boldness at the last minute, so he had to withdraw.
“Shit. This is so funky…” He muttered as he walked away.
Inside the office, the styling assistant sent over the stylings proposal.
El Crow was supposed to check it out and make corrections before the conference, but he left his office and went to the executive suite on that same floor where he stripped himself and got under the shower.
As the water wet him, he felt his body calming little by little, and he kept increasing the water coldness like he wanted to turn to ice.
He needed this bath, because…
Since they arrived in this new City and he entered this office, his body jerked whenever he thought about what happened last night.
His brain and mind and sexual organ reacted everytime. Now he was rocky again.
He increased the water temperature, looking down at his length which was throbbing.
“If this is another sick game, inferno, you better fuckin stop!” He threatened like he could see him.
He’s soul-bond with Roselle, and she’s supposed to be the only one who’d be able to get him sexually aroused.
So what’s going on?
Also, Skylar touched him sexually last night, but she’s still alive.
Again, what’s going on?
Lastly, his bed was on the truck ground last night, and he slept soundly without nightmares.
Why is that?
There are so many questions, and he hates questions. He hates getting curious. He hates working according to another person’s clock.
But now it was unavoidable.
He needed to talk to Inferno.
“Suck it…take it into your mouth..”
His moan from last night stormed his head again, and his back rested on the wall as his d1ck stretched harder.
He wrapped his hand around it, giving himself a fast handjob.
Handjob would barely do anything. He needed a good pussy under him, but Skylar didn’t die doesn’t mean other girls won’t die if he fucked them. So he managed the handjob.
Swear to hell…the next female he’d fûck will get a broken hip with this abnormal s+x drive he’s getting.
His fluid shot out very hot to the bathroom floor.
“Fuckkk!”
—
