Focus

10. Focus on checking in

"Something tells me he's about to explain how the rich are the real victims here."- Joe Goldberg, You.
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The golden chandelier gently swayed as the invasive cleaner air infiltrated the room and cast out the stuffy one that had been sitting in the room for weeks. The harsh wind whipped the dust that had settled in the dusty room off the room surfaces which caused the woman to sneeze.

She inhaled the cleaner air and noted that her body no longer had its usual soft, perfumed scent. Her oily scalp was dirty and itchy yet she didn't bother to scratch away the irritation or remove the dirty bandages that wrapped around her head.
She stared, unfocused, at the intricate golden detailing on the walls. They weren't real gold nor were the walls made of marble like she had at her childhood home but they were higher quality than what most could afford, at least that was wha Mari Posa had assured. April recalled how Ramee had put his foot down and refused to buy her real gold for the decor. How Mari had insisted that it wasn't necessary and that nobody would be able to tell the difference between gold plated and full on gold and how March had immediately questioned the quality upon his first visit.

She felt the uncomfortable warmth from her duck down bedding against her back. The last time they had been switched was when the weather was appropriate for a warmer sheets. The layer of dust on the bedding easily confessed that nobody had been sleeping in the bed when she was kept in a cage. Exhaustion and pain had made her too lazy to replace them when she first came in. Sadness and melancholy prevented her from changing them when they'd become too sweaty.

A lack of visitors and social interaction had resulted in a lack of care in attempting to clean up. Unopened uwu cafe bags were piled in a chaotic corner of the room along with the giant teddy bears that Ramee had brought along from the hospital.

"It's been two weeks April when are you leaving this room?" His hands were on his hips as he stared at the woman in bed.

"Why did you wake me up?" She managed to croak out. Her unused voice sounded hoarse and her mouth felt dry and her lips were chapped as she barely whispered out her response.

"Because you could've been laying here dead and nobody would have been able to know until your body started stinking, which by the way, when was the last time you took a shower?"

April wasn't exactly sure when the last time she showered was. She didn't even know what day it was. The days had been going on while she lay in bed, doom scrolling while her phone was connected to her charger. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt the sun on her skin nor the last time she had a conversation with more than one person.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. His deep concerned sigh filled the stale stuffy air.

"You need to get out. Get some sun. You've always been whiter than paper but now you're practically transparent. I didn't even know white people could get that pale April. You look like a ghost. You look like my ancestors nightmares." April barely had the energy to snort at his exaggerated comment. Taco was good at speaking honestly while somehow balancing it with humor and concern.

"I look the same."
"You only say that because you haven't seen yourself. I could probably see your organs from here if I tried hard enough." Taco's voice was tinged with concern but April detected a hint of frustration in his tone.
"That's not how it works."
"The point is, you need to shower, you need to get some sun and you need to answer your old man's calls. He's been calling everyone nonstop and we've all had enough of being called poor."

"To him, you are poor." Her monotonous and factual delivery was empty as she stared up at the ceiling.
"To everyone else who doesn't have an empire like your dad I am rich. I am wealthy."
"You're poor to me too but no one cares about how much money you have."
"Aww. That's the nicest thing you've ever said about my money. Usually you would've called me a poor peasant." Taco leaned against the wall as he stared at the singer.