TWISTED DREAMS

8. Dahlia

Jeremy Chen,

Sitting in front of Dad.

Pretending like we didn't know each other beside our family vacations.

Hmm.

.

We came to this fancy restaurant for the dinner. Mom loves the avocado salad here. And Dad knows what Mom loves the most. So here we are. Sitting in the roof top restaurant, in starry night.

Mom was sitting beside Dad and that leaves me beside Jeremy. I could sense this awkwardness on his face since he don't usually come for the dinner or parties our Moms throw in every three or four months.

"To my Caterpillar!" Dad toasted by raising his wine glass in the air. His eyes full of proud or should I say pride. He is more than happy because,

.

Because,

I won.

I won the fucking competition.

.

"To my Baby Lia!" Mom clinked her glass on Dad's and congratulate me for my achievement. Both of them looks so proud of me. I'm euphoric to see them like this.

Jeremy also raised his glass and clink it on Mom's glass. He always have this expressionless face. His smile is rarer than the unicorn. He never smiles. I barely remember him smiling or laughing. Hmm.

"Don't you have anything to say to my Caterpillar, Chen?" Dad's eyes stabled on Jeremy who was been quiet since coming here.

"Congratulations." Jeremy glimpsed at me for the tiniest second and said. He quickly avoid my stare by drinking on his wine and looked away. "You did well."

"Well?" I questioned, still staring at his face. Face that is more beautiful than a god.

.

Ginger hair falling on his forehead, Greek nose, small but lush lips, sharp jaw, uplifted cheeks and tiny but seductive eyes. He looks more like Uncle Josh but has eye, hair and skin colour of Aunt Jules.

Everything about his face is beautiful. No wonder the girls in our college called him a 'Beautiful Red Boy'.

Now I know why Aunt Jules named him Jeremy. Even the meaning of his name is 'God's favourite'.

.

"Great. You did great." Jeremy nodded and glimpsed at me again. His clean, white shirt enhanced his straight posture, rolled up sleeves exposed his veiny hands and black coffee coloured Korean pants loosen on his thick thighs.

"By the way Jerry, I heard you're planning another exhibition in next three months, is this true?" Mom asked, circling the wine in the glass.

"Yes. But that might be postponed since I haven't finished my desired sculpture yet." Jeremy answered, putting his wine glass on the table. His legs crossed on each other and posture straightened more when Mom talked.

"It must be hard to come up with new ideas, isn't it?" Mom is always excited to know new things. Especially things that relates passion and fashion.

"It is." Jeremy swallowed and put his hands on the table gently. "But I don't look for new ideas. I live old again and again." I glanced at him, his face serious as usual but eyes shining.

"Old?" The curiosity popped in my heart as my heart beats faster at the moments of his fingers tapping on the table.

"I take ideas from my past, I seek them in my own life rather than looking for them in the world around." He answered. "I've never created a sculpture that isn't related to my life. All the figures, all the hands and all the faces I've created are of someone who I met in real. All the expressions, all the tears and smiles I design are of someone I've seen before. I don't sculpt imagination. I sculpt things that happened in my life."