XLVI: Twenty-One-Minute Fruitless Search

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❝Love without conversation is impossible.❞
—Mortimer Adler 

Three hours. Three whole hours to get me ready.

I spent my morning in bed, filling up on ice cream and bitterness. I would've downed some vodka if I had any. Frankly, that vodka bottle Hercules stole and gifted me would really be appreciated now, but unfortunately, I left it at our apartment in Manhattan.

It was around two PM when the swarm of makeup artist and wardrobe coordinators came flooding into our room like a cloud of bees. Reynolds and Joy Nova were at the head of the hive, already dressed elegantly in very expensive clothing.

Alexander and I were taken to separate rooms to be worked on. It's been three hours since we've seen each other and...

March 31, 2059.

The day of the ball.

"Ouch."

"Sorry!"

"Ack! Too tight."

"We won't tighten it anymore."

"I am not wearing that."

"I'm afraid you have no choice.

By the end of the three hours, it was nearly five-thirty and I was done with the hair, makeup, and wardrobe working. I was aware that I was being transformed into something beautiful. I've been in my cocoon for a long time, and now it's time to emerge as a butterfly.

The team, under the supervision of Joy, makes final adjustments to the long, elegant dress I'm wearing. Then they take a step back and admire the work.

I stand (rather shyly) in the middle of the room, giving the most elegant pose I can produce. They gawk and beam.

"Oh my. She's absolutely stunning."

"Don't cry, Matilda."

"We've done a wonderful job."

I don't know how I look yet. There is no mirror in this room, but there is a large, full-body mirror in the next room. That's where our next stop is.

"Would you like to see yourself?" Joy asks.

Despite all the anger that's been bubbling in me all day, I feel a spark of childish excitement pulsing in me.

"Yes, please," I softly nod.

Joy takes me by the arm carefully and leads me through the door and into the next room.

"I want you to see yourself alone," she hums. With that, she exits the room and closes the door, leaving me by myself.

I feel a little nervous, but very excited. I catch sight of the large mirror on the opposite wall, and gradually, I walk towards it.

I freeze upon seeing my reflection. My immediate thought terrifies me.

Who are you?

My skin seems to glow gorgeously. It's flawless. My eyelids are painted with a misty-blue eye shadow, an eyeliner wing stroked on. My lashes are elongated with a light amount of mascara. My lips look dangerously kissable with the gentle lip gloss. My hair is done up in a complex and elegant style, a blue ribbon is woven into the hair and tied into a bow at the end, the ends of the ribbon falling to my neck. Diamond earrings hang from my ears, a matching diamond necklace around my neck. I'm wearing a pair of silver heels that give me an extra two inches to my height. But the thing that pulls the whole look together is the dress. It flows behind me in beautiful shades of blue, silver, and a little black. In the front, the expensive material sparkles softly in the light. The neckline is low enough to tease a man's desires, but high enough to seem modest. Similarly, there is a leg cut along my left leg, showing off my skin starting from my mid-thigh and below. A blue ribbon, similar to the one in my hair, is tied around my waist, seeming to make the curve of my body more prominent.

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