Dance Macabre

Chapter: 02 Ashes of silver

The drive to Mr. Alister Rene ( the chairman ), was a fairly pleasant ride, where the commotion of the city life could only be imagined only if one paid attention to the remnants of the echoes that came from the busy roads miles away, which, by the way, no one does.  The streets of Beverly Hills were a paradise if want to  avoid the mainstream chaos, the rich, so consumed by their lifestyles, never idle enough to even stand at the balcony and absorb the city lights and the enkindled horizon. The silence of these roads is akin to the silence of the mortuary. 

  Stepping out from the car, Cattleya stepped onto the marble staircase, surrounded by the perfectly trimmed shrubbery that led to the English manor with the modern minimalist touch. Alongside her presence, were couples entering the manor, lovingly looking at each other as they entered, the sight was once her  life , memories she would trade with her greatest treasure to relive. The air was  crisp and glacial as ever , it permeated through your skin and numbed your bones , but numbness was everything and anything she has been feeling lately so the air didn't alter much. 

" Ah! Cattleya !" Mr. Rene appeared from behind the silhouette of a middle ages couple who were wrapping themselves with posh hides .  "Seeing you've  made it here , might as well spend a few hours amongst us".He added with a slight giggle. 

"Had any trouble finding the manor?"

"Mr. Rene , I know these streets better than the back of my hand". Cattleya replies with her soft tone.

"Glad to have you here, I'm so proud to finally see you letting it go". Mr. Rene's gaze swept from her face to other VIP guests . He lovingly patted Cattleya on her head and ascended into the mist of lavish perfumes and forced enthusiasm .

The manor itself was a state of the art.
Handmade Persian rugs and hand-cut crystal chandeliers that were perhaps worth more than what the waiting staff made annually. Finest china set atop cream and grey Lenin that shimmered through the night.
The hall was brimming with joy and laughter , not long ago , Cattleya had been one of them, now she was standing feeling marooned in middle of a crowd.
The clatter of a fork on the champagne glass by the chairman silenced the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen , I apologise for interrupting your conversations midway . I wanted to thank each of you for being  here tonight to celebrate my anniversary." The chairman spoke with an aged calm tone .
"Let me express my gratitude with a concerto" he added and diffused into the crowd .
The hall went noirceur and the only illumination was the thin spotlight on a girl seated gracefully on the stage , clutching a violin in one hand and bow with the other , her thin young fingers coiling around the vintage wood .
The hands moved and moved the hearts of many who spectated. The room was silent except for the tranquilizing melody that flooded the halls and bounced of marbled floors.

All of the sudden , to her surprise her eyes  felt heavier and heavier as each string got played and soon she could feel her hot tears flowing down her poreless porcelain face. She didn't know  why she was crying , soon the cries turned into soft sobs that felt like cries of lioness in torment.  
She couldn't help but stride out of the hall , on hand covering her face and the other clutching the silken hem of her dress, lengthening the slit that showed her long legs.

The distant notes of Bloch could be heard on the balcony that stands viewing the eerie City lights . The girl was decently talented to have nailed that piece.

Cattleya could still feel her hot blood flushing her face . The air Was as translucent as ever. Cloustas loved that piece , they would bathe together listening to the melody mixed with the sound of lapping water, enter-twined in each other's arm.
Cattleya yonderly  stared into the envelope of thick drizzles  that draped the horizon.

She took out a cigarette from her chanel bag and stared at it with disturbed eyes. Her tears had made dark trails of mascara on her cheeks which were now dry and ashy.
She lit her cigarette and exhaled a large cloud of smoke which appeared  like ashes of silver , upon mixing with already milky air.
Through the silvery smoke , she saw face of a man , even from her hazy gaze, thanks to all the champagne , she could identify the face and not so pleasant memories flooded the back of her head.