chapter 8

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8

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8

Clementine woke up in the evening and in a daze, disoriented by time and emotion, momentarily forgetting where or who she was.

She ached for a cigarette but quickly dismissed it from her mind.

She saw there was a text message on her phone.

She cautiously picked it up, one hand to her head to ease the head rush she was feeling, still not fully recuperated from the night before.

você é louco

You are crazy.

Meet me at the plaza at 8pm, next Saturday.

No signature, no name, no nothing.

But it somehow made its way to her. Intended for her.

Clementine stumbled into the connected bathroom, attempting to wash her face and put on a toner or something in the form of light makeup to make her look and feel more alive than she did at that moment.

As much as she loved partying, she hated the effects.

Going into the walk in closet, all she wanted to wear was shorts and a bra but she knew she had to get herself together or it would be a long way down.

She checked the Rolex that her parents got her when she was accepted to Columbia. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt and disgust, at the richness of it and the falsity of it.

Her family didn't come from money, not really. Her father was born in a small town in Brazil, and was just in the right place at the right time when he graduated from university and got into the cusp of a changing economy and political climate. He went into international business with Brazil and America for natural resources, and with his wits and knack for relationships, he was able to rise up very quickly by also partnering with some strategic names. His parents - Clementine's grandparents - were doctors. Respected, but humble, and not at all paid like they would have if they lived in America. She barely knew them as they both died when she as young.

Her mother, was born in Rio but to Brazilian/American parents. Her own mother and father were university professors from America, teaching archaeology and classics and the likes. Clementine's grandmother on her mother's side, died when her mother was a teenager. But by then, Clementine's mother was already well on her way to becoming a professional dancer in Brazil, going to study at the School of American ballet in New York City.

Clementine's parents met in New York, at some party their mutual, Brazilain friends threw. Soon enough, Clementine's mother was pregnant and before she knew it, had a kid on her arm and a goodbye to her ballet career. It didn't matter though, because Clementine's father wa already making an name for himself in the business world and money wasn't an issue. Except that Clementine's mother always had regrets about never being able to find something so completely her own ever again. Clementine knew that her mother loved her family, but she was also afraid that she would end up like her mother.

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