Antilove

Ventitré

CAPITOLO VENTITRÉ

a flooded city brings no rescue

***

STUBBORN AS SHE MAY be, Rose heeds Amber's advice. Though the reason may be superficial, she wakes up to go to work on Monday.

Sobering up is the worst part. Even when she first started, Rose would always take a few sips beforehand. There's something stifling about the atmosphere behind scenes or on set and Rose has never been one for tight composure. So after she brushes her teeth, she rinses her mouth with mouthwash instead.

There are no visible signs of her habit of late—no wrinkles, no dark circles, nothing—so she grooms just her eyebrows, and paints on burgundy lips.

Rose listens to her playlist as she gets ready.

Clothes always make her uncomfortable. Either the material doesn't feel right against her skin or it's too constricting. Rose would rather prefer being in robes all day but that's not entirely professional. Whenever she steps outside her door, her skin starts itching.

Nevertheless, she buttons up an oversized, sheer blouse, and tucks the left half of it into her culottes. Monday's not a day for bras so she opts for a maroon, lace-detailed bralette.

Unfortunately, culottes call for heels, so she straps her ankles in.

After all that is done, she looks in the fridge but remembers no one is there to stock it for her anymore. Stomach empty, she grabs her car keys to go to work.

Traffic is atrocious and she turns on the radio, only to find that these are the songs she used to cruise to with Lucien, top down and hair tangled with the wind. She listens to them anyways, because it's better than early morning talkshows.

Mundane. Her life is as plain as it ever was and ever will be.

***

AMBER'S BLONDE HAIRCUT is the first thing she sees. Amber's naturally a brunette but platinum looks just as good on her. It's been a while since Rose has seen her with brown hair—it's always dyed something else. A twinge echoes in her heart.

But she ignores it and goes to set up her station. Today's shoot requires more work than usual, as it's a larger one. She thinks that, after today, she'll stop being represented by this company, and she'll freelance for a bit. There are still job offers for her backstage in fashion shows.

"Rose!"

It's Amber. Another pang strikes deep in her chest. There's always something about her almond eyes that brings Rose to tears. Although they're more alike than anyone can tell, Amber is an innocent soul.

"I'm sorry."

Amber steps back in surprise, blinking at Rose. "No, I'm sorry. I should know better than anyone but I still...did I make you uncomfortable about your..."

"You can say disease. Nobody else would even bring it up." Rose laughs, a bitter cut to her voice. "I shouldn't have brought it out on you."

"You don't even have to apologize," Amber says softly.

That's the thing with Amber. Rose hates it more than she loves it at the moment. Unlike her, Amber's willing to back down just for the sake of it, instead of standing up for herself. Even Rose admits she treated her horribly yesterday and here Amber is, willing to take the bullet.

Before she can respond, her manager calls her name.

"Ms. Kaufman?"

Usually, the studio only has people who really need to be there. Models, MUAs, photographers, costume designers, set workers, but today, Mr. Zhang and his wife are here.