Rose. Part 1.

She remembers so much: how he used to play with her hair on a sultry April afternoon in a living room, how she was so into Angry Birds at the same time he got addicted to it too, how he was always there for her whenever she needed someone to take care of her dearly beloved German Shepherd, Charcoal Boo. She feels a pang of nostalgia instead of deep sorrow and sadness. At that time, all she wanted back was happiness but not the kind that only he could give to her. She didn’t need him, she just wanted to be happy.

Rose is twenty-two years old. She doesn’t like asparagus but loves blanching it just to see it turn into a lighter, more vibrant green in a pot of boiling water. Water she took months to get it consistently filtered. She finally took the effort to build in her own water filter in the apartment after falling sick to a bacterium that was flourishing in the water pipes outside her apartment. Along the row of shops which her apartment stood, a pizza place with a vintage neon light reading ‘2 for 1..nah just joking’ stood out the most. The pizza place served good margherita pizza and this was verified by Rose. Every Monday, she would go there to buy one for herself. Every Monday is ‘2 for 1’ day. Normally she would buy two: one for dinner and one for the morning after because she gets lazy to walk to the pizza place in her shower robe and bunny slippers. Every Monday she would buy one just to not get a discount because she thought great food was worth so much more than a cheap discount. She had dignities food in the most controversial ways possible. This consists of going to a fancy evening restaurant just to provoke a French waiter by demanding for grass-fed, organic foie gras instead of foie gras coming from force-fed geese. “I want organic foie gras, why do you have force-fed foie gras anyway?” Normally, she would emphasize on the phrase ‘force-fed’ by raising the pitch of her voice to grab everyone’s attention in the room. After debating with a newly-hired French waiter for 5-10 minutes, she would stand up abruptly causing the legs of her chair to screech while it slides against the floor, again just to grab the attention of customers surrounding her table, and storm off. She does this in any fancy evening restaurant she could find. Apart from feeling satisfied about raising awareness of animal cruelty, she also feels satisfied from the free pieces of baguette she eats before ordering her entree (before bickering with the waiter).

Rose has long maroon hair which always seems smooth and luscious albeit not taking as much care as her female counterparts do. Her hair always smells of raspberries due to the everyday usage of a kids shampoo. She doesn’t tie her hair like most females do when they go to sleep because she likes it when her hair covers her face. The distinct scent of raspberry, alerting and at the same time soporific, would send her into a self-caused tantrum of limb-spreading and blanket-tossing for exactly 5 minutes before she falls sound asleep. Her friends are envious of her artificially tangy hair scent. One of them even tried making her own raspberry shampoo, with raspberries and a bar of soap. One night at summer camp, that friend had ants all over her hair upon waking up the next day.

Rose loves to wear suits. Only because she loves the orgasmic feeling of pulling her tucked in shirt out of her slacks after a long day’s work at the office. She pulls off ‘the suit look’ better than anyone else, except Barney Stinson because he is legen..wait for it.. dary. In fact, she only started wearing suits after watching the pilot episode of How I Met Your Mother because she thought that she could pull it off better than Barney Stinson. Fun fact, her first suit was tailored by someone who looked like Barney Stinson.

Rose has pale skin and black eyes. Black like the sky at night. There was one truly unforgettable night where he took her out into the sea on a mini 2-person boat he stole spontaneously at the harbor where only the rich can afford to anchor their boats there. This disturbs Rose a lot as her father was one of these rich people who were filthy rich but only through uncanny and unethical ways. She remembers how he was always so nonchalant about committing a crime but the adrenaline he gives her never fails to throw her guilt out the window in a fleeting instant. This is what she loved about him and he upon knowing this couldn’t stop doing it because all he wanted to do was see her smile quietly without having the urge to express that joy through words, like how an aspiring chef would feel like upon the realization of having made the perfect souffle.

“You see those stars?”

“Yes, they are much brighter out here.”

“The thing is, what you’re looking at now are dead stars which have died about say..decades or centuries ago. I am not sure. But I know they’re dead.”

How those stars above the both of them shone so brightly that night, she remembers it as much as how her fellow staff members remember when they were promised by their burly, rotund boss a pay raise. Now, their love has already died long ago but still showed very faint flickers of hope. Hope, like the twinkle of the stars. At one moment faint and at another, bright. Hope he didn’t bother giving but this has been shown through numerous occasions in which he liked her Facebook updates. Rose picks this up as signs of regret but she isn’t willing to forgive him yet. She was bent on making him suffer the pain of heartbreak but he had not budged yet. “Again?”, she would yell out whenever she receives another ‘like’ from him. She ignores him. He doesn’t care. He was oblivious like that, like most of the guys she dated. This had been going on for the past 8 months since they officially separated as love birds.

Looking at the mirror and staring at her slender arms, she decides she needs to go on a new diet and quit the old ‘soya bean and red bean pau every four hours’ diet. A diet in which her bodybuilding Facebook friends call ‘bulking’. But before she could devise mentally what she would have for breakfast every morning, the super thin laptop she owns alerts her as she receives another Facebook notification. It is him again.

“Screw this shit,” and she slams the laptop down.

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One thought on “Rose. Part 1.

  1. This is fantastic! Wonderfully written. I really enjoyed it, and there is tremendous detail there. A fantastic read. Thanks for sharing it!

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