A Thousand Lies

01 | Not what I imagined

UNEDITED

To put my situation in three simple words, I was lost.

I glared up at the sky which seemed greyer than ever, accurately reflecting my level of optimism this morning. I let my eyes wander, searching for a sign that could indicate that I was closer to my destination. The streets were busy, car honks by agitated drivers adding to the sound of the morning traffic and pedestrians making their way through the sidewalks. I tried using google maps for the umpteenth time, yet again without any luck.

I looked around, sighing in distress. Its an unfamiliar scenary; the buildings were different from ones I grew up around, and so were the people. Walking around in a foreign country not knowing where I was going made me feel helpless and anxious. It made me miss being home.

Home. But you can't go back. There's no going back now, Livia.

I took out my phone and dialed a number I wish I didn't have to. Desperate times call for desperate measures. After a few rings, a groggy voice greeted me, "Micasa, if this is about last night, don't call me. I already told you-"

"Stop," I said, cutting him off, "Stop right there. I do not want to hear about your sex life."

"Livia?" His tone is one of surprise.

"No, Deon. It's your stalker ex-girlfriend."

He groaned and I couldn't help but laugh. "Are you ever gonna let me live that down?"

"No."

I met Deon Lockhart at one of my father's parties. Since my father was a well-known entrepreneur, those 'parties' were more of a business gathering with businessmen making deals to increase profit while their wives or mistresses show off their expensive jewellery and designer clothes, creating some disputes.

Sometimes the wife crashes the party where the man brings his mistress and I get to enjoy a good cat fight. Butler Lin wouldn't lend me popcorn though, his reason being that it was rude. One would think that the people fighting in our house were rude. Other times the wives search and scheme for potential candidates to marry off their son or daughter; of which I would always end up being a target. Needless to say, I hated the smell of their perfume and would escape to either my room or the terrace.

It was during one such escape that I met Deon. Unlike me, who escaped to the terrace to be free from the clutches of mothers with their son's pictures in tow, Deon Lockhart was holding a woman, whispering what seemed like sweet nothings into her ear. I was about to leave when the woman slapped him and went stomping her feet.

I couldn't help but laugh as he shouted after her, "took you long enough Rosalinda."

"Its Janet you arsehole."

In between making sarcastic remarks, throwing insults and pulling pranks, we became friends

"Why are you calling this early anyway?" Deon asked, pulling me away from the memory lane.

"Its already afternoon."

"That's like the middle of the night" he protested, "And you haven't answered my question."

Seemed like there was no escaping this.

"Remember what I told you a month ago?"

"You got a tattoo?"

"No."

"Then elaborate because it's too early for me to remember anything."

"I'm talking about the school."