⋆ ˚ ｡▐ 𝚰𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏.
❝ I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE BAMBI. I'M IN
DEEP FOR YOU. ❞ ━━━ KAEDE HAYASHI
𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐓𝚰.
Daughter of David and Boipelo Moetti. The media calls her the "Mantra Ray". She's used to being under fame'...
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ODETTE | MOETTI
I HAVEN'T FIT in for a long time.
It's like there's a script everyone else is following that no one's been considerate enough to share. A script of what to say, what not to say, of how to just interact with society with ease.
The last I felt normal, — like someone who could still make mistakes, who's only fear was seeing all there was to life — like who my age said I was, I was eleven. Six years ago, at a summer swimming-camp in Ireland that had introduced me to the career I was born to do. There, I learnt the different swim styles alongside other kids and most of my favourite memories were from it.
I missed the year I'd hit the milestone of double digits. I was so much better at talking to others back then; my head didn't flood with thoughts at lingering looks that made me second-guess myself. Free-willed, not wading through anxiety with every step, I was a kid who loved to swim just like everyone else. No one looked at me like I was weird— in fact, I had more friends than I could ever remember having.
How I'd charmed everyone into liking me, remained a mystery I was desperate to solve.
It was only six weeks long, but I'd ruminated on that single summer, relived it in my dreams, rewatched it while I was daydreaming, to the point it felt like yesterday. It was like I was filled to the brim with a yearning for an experience that only existed inside my head.
Or maybe there was just something wrong with me.
". . .And make sure to compose yourself as you go back to St Everfield's. You don't only represent yourself, but the Moetti image."
At my mother's voice slipping into my right ear from where I pressed my phone to with my shoulder, I tried to calm my thoughts. Regardless of the mental effort, they seemed to rise in waves now I'd accepted her call.
I was with Lesedi, my blood cousin but soul sister, when the dreaded ringtone chimed from my pocket. Each ring seemed to pollute the air of her parent's foyer as we were making our way out the main manor doors.
Still, Lesedi had given my hand a squeeze before I answered it and said if I needed her that she'd be loading our suitcases in the Range with her chauffeur, Dube. She was only outside, on the driveway, but it felt too far as each word from my mother sent me hiding further and further into my head.
"Yes Mum."
Strengthened from practice since I was little, my voice didn't shudder under the weight of the expectations that she and Father had been stacking on my shoulders.
Besides, what else was there to say that would guarantee me safety?
I wandered the grand entrance hallI was in, suddenly unable to keep still. I forced my listless stare away from the ajar front door and on to the breathtaking art pieces hung up on the walls. Each held a master craftsman's touch, each abstract stroke, delicate but purposeful. My skin, reflected in one of the dust-free frames, was brown but I felt pale in comparison to the vibrancy of the paint before me. Pale in comparison to their potency, to their life.
