One day or a series of individual days that in one way or another changed the trajectory of our lives. The day I was assaulted by my brother's friends was the day the idea of love, platonic, familial, or otherwise, died in my world, except for Claire's. The day Claire died in my arms was the day my mind broke into irreparable pieces, causing me to set aside all that was familiar. It could also be argued that the series of unfortunate days in my bleak life led me to purchase a house far away from anyone I knew, and in so doing met Sunshine. The future is always uncertain, the past nothing but a memory, but the present is always filled with unlimited potential. Each day brings with it the opportunity to change the course of your whole life.
In the absence of the memorable day, during which Sunshine and I had spent idyllic time together, I would have remained ignorant of the gestures that I had overlooked as meaningless. Sitting in front of my dressing table, makeup scattered all over the blacktop with Sunshine working away on my face, I began taking notice of the little details. I had always been focused on the progress on my face, and I had never once looked at Sunshine as she did my face. If I had even once looked her way, I would have noticed the intensity in her eyes and the wide smile that took over her face. I would have noticed just how close she was to my face, closer than was necessary. The way she bit her lips or licked them at short intervals, her breathing was shallow and fast. She took notice of every single inch of my face, poring over every crevice with her eyes as she painted and brushed away until every inch was flawless.
After finishing with my face, she went into my closet to pick out an outfit for me, and it was then that another frightening realization hit me. Slowly and so gradually that I didn't even notice, Sunshine had taken control of every aspect of my life. From the sheets on the bed I slept on, to every meal I ate, and as of late, what I wore and how I looked going out of the house were decided by her. In the house, everything I did had traces of her in it, and now, even going out, I still bore her invisible mark. Was it a result of our proximity, or had it been her plan all along? I could not pinpoint the exact moment when our lives had become so entangled. She reappeared with a red sequined dress and matching leather thigh-high boots.
"It's Friday and you either sparkle or face a debacle!" she signed after laying out the dress for me and, without pausing, went to my underwear drawer and removed the matching black lacy set.
What mortified me was the realization that it wasn't the first time she had done that, but it was the first time I noticed how intimate that gesture was. Did I truly never notice just how close and fairly intimate our lives had become? She had always been quiet, and assumed so much so that none of my alarms had gone off as she slowly began invading and establishing herself in my life. The fact that she had gone along with my plans, no matter how empathetic she was, should have raised my hackles, but it didn't. For all the walls I had built to keep people away, she had simply walked in, ignoring their presence entirely.
"Are you okay? You are trembling. Is it nerves?"
It wasn't my nerves; I was a little bit scared of the woman standing across from me. I was shocked when she showed up half-naked in my bedroom, I had been convinced that she was acting out of character by being so aggressive and forward. It hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing, judging by how she had successfully disarmed my defenses, I was certain that nothing she did was merely spontaneous. She brushed my hair back, lifting my face as she tried to ascertain how well I was. Little gestures that for an ordinary person meant nothing, gestures that I categorized as intrusions. Touching my face, tucking my hair, and dressing me were actions that I severely overreacted to, but she had somehow done all these things without triggering my PTSD.
"I am fine," I verbally replied, pushing her hands away, acutely aware of her presence.
She ignored my outburst and instead picked up my perfumes, spraying the different scents on different parts of my body. Once again, like a domesticated dog, I stood still as she had her way with me until she was satisfied. I had no real reason to stop her from dressing me up, and I had no complaints about the results she achieved. She dragged me to the mirror and admired her work, and even though I was questioning her entire existence, I could not deny that she had done an amazing job on me. She draped a white fur coat on my shoulders before giving me a once-over, leaving once she was satisfied with her work. I carried my boots downstairs, where Sunshine was busy packing my handbag.
"I diluted the formula, we don't want the old man to book it before we use him. One good spray and he will be out for the night, but make sure you check on him before you leave." She stuffed the small bottle she had been holding into my bag.
"Don't worry, I got this. He is a century old, I will be extra gentle on him," I replied, shuddering at the thought of entertaining the lewd man all evening.
I swept aside my frustrations concerning Sunshine aside I had a mission to accomplish, and hopefully, the little outing would give me new ideas for my book. I decided to drive my red Audi car as opposed to the black BMW, which was my favorite. The old man liked his young prey flashy; the more attention they drew, the better it was for him. I could not for the life of me understand his logic, how having girls who were young, beautiful, and comfortable was beneficial for him. He was old now, but his wealth was still something to be in awe of. Despite his advanced age, he was still well respected, and his wit had not dulled with age, yet he desperately clung to the exploits of his youth, as if his other achievements paled in comparison to the feigned affection of women in their prime. Surely, despite his enormous ego, even he had to know that the girls who entertained him only did so to benefit from his influence. If it had been about sex, it would have been understandable, but the world on the street was that he could not maintain an erection for longer than a minute.
Thomas, Sunshine's criminal private detective, had been on the old man's trail for four days, which was how we knew exactly where to find him. After his stellar services trailing the three little piglets, it seemed wise to retain his skill set. He was a nice enough man whose morals aligned with those that paid him the most, and Sunshine had enough dirt on him to keep him loyal to our cause. According to Thomas, Mr. Kamau was at his golf club members-only bar, and Mercy had been thrilled to use her skillset to acquire a card for me. It did not take long for me to spot him inside the dimly lit and sparsely occupied bar. I watched him from the corner of my eye as his face lit up upon seeing me, but I ignored him, making my way to the bartender to order a drink. He was beside me a second before my whisky on ice was placed in front of me, which was impressive. Age had not slowed him down, at least not in the way that mattered, although I doubt he would see it that way. Like most men, his sense of self-worth was directly linked to his penis.
"Melissa, fancy seeing you here!"
"Mr. Kamau! Hello there, what are you doing here?"
"I am always here on Friday nights. I have a few drinks before going back home. This place is a second home."
"I am not sure your wife will take kindly to the fact that her house is being lumped together with a bar."
"She gave up that battle a long time ago," he said, laughing, a loud and abrasive laugh that grated on my thin nerves.
Unlike our first meeting, I did not have the luxury of running away, so I turned to the next best thing. I picked up my glass and downed the contents in one go, and was glad I had picked a smooth blend, or my gesture would not have matured well. I gestured for the bartender to pour me another, which he thankfully, promptly did, and I proceeded to down the entire glass before turning to the man who was still watching me.
"Rough day?" He asked when I asked for another refill.
"You could say that I have to do things I don't want to, and to be honest, I am dreading it."
"That's just life, you have to work hard to get what you want, even if it involves things you hate."
"I can't argue with you on that," I replied, emptying my third glass of whiskey.
"Come sit with me, we can take that bottle since you seem intent on finishing it on your own."
My insides were slowly beginning to thaw from the grip of anxiety mingled with disgust for having to stoop so low to get what I wanted. He did not know it yet, but he would regret meeting me. He had not offended me in any way, which was why I had chosen to adopt a softer approach. However, soft or not, he was not going to take kindly to my demands. I smiled softly at him while tucking my hair, and tried my very best to replace his face with that of his younger, more appealing version.
"Only if you promise to drink with me."
"Oh, I wish I could, but a few bottles of beer are all I can manage," he said, helping me down from the counter stool.
It wasn't a secret that he was not particularly fond of alcohol. During one of his interviews, he had confessed to being a lightweight who could only handle a few bottles of beer. It would have been easier if he had a habit of indulging in alcohol, but his self-control when it came to drugs was the reason why we prepared the knockout spray. I was already getting lightheaded, so I decided to pace myself by watering down my drink. I had expected groping and lingering unwanted touches, but Joseph was the perfect gentleman. After requesting that I order food so that I wouldn't get too drunk, he proceeded to regale me with exploits of how he dominated the legal world in his youth.
As the evening progressed, I increasingly felt guilty about what I was going to do to the old man. Despite his promiscuity, he was a family man and had already shown me pictures of his wife and four children. He was proud of his family even more than his career, yet despite all that, he was here entertaining me. Even at his advanced age, he was still exploring life, there was an undeniable twinkle in his eyes. I found his zest for life slightly insulting, but it reiterated the fact that, despite being significantly older, it was his first time experiencing life just like the rest of us. He was still making mistakes, like we all did.