Bra heard a knock on the door and instantly she was ticked off. All she wanted right now was to listen to her music playlist—the one she specifically made for when she needed to cool off. Already, she could hear Machi crying in the background. She just needed ten minutes of peace…
"What do you want?" Bra shouted aggressively at the innocent door, "Go away!"
"It's me, honey," Bra heard her mom say from behind the door, "Don't worry about Machi, your grandma will take care of her today—she really loves doing that so I'm basically doing her the favor. You going to open up?"
Sure enough, Bra could hear Machi's cries finally easing off. As much as she'd tried to take care of Machi—she'd done all the right things including changing her diapers, feeding her and letting her play with her toys—she'd cry all day and night and it was beginning to drive her crazy. She was starting to think the baby may have some mental issues or something. She never imagined a child could cry so much and so loudly. Either that or she was a terrible mother who could do nothing to console her own child. Who was she kidding? She was not at all cutout for being a single mother. She stood up and went to the door to unlock it. Her mother had already demonstrated years ago in her rebellious teen years that she could easily unlock any door in the house, but she understood her mother was trying to be nice—Bra appreciated this.
"Nice to finally be able to hear my voice again," Bulma teased as she strolled into the room, "Another day of that crying and your very patient father might not have been able to contain himself."
"Sorry," Bra said in defeat as she went to sit down on the side of her bed. "Guess I'm just not cut out for this stuff."
She felt the weight on the bed shift as her mother sat down beside her. "Sometimes…babies can sense our own distress and you haven't been your usual self in a long while," her mother said.
"Did you come here to tell me how I've screwed everything up? How I can't even get the father of my child to stick around?"
Bulma chuckled and this startled Bra as she looked over at her. Had she missed something? Or did her mother think her entire situation a complete joke? It was unlike her to be so callous.
"If only you knew," Bulma said, "I'm certainly not the person who would ever tell you a thing like that. I'm just here to talk, not to judge. Seems like you really need it."
"What did you want to talk about?" Bra asked.
Her mother looked at her in a way that made her feel as if she could read her mind. Despite such an imagined breach in privacy, Bra was never put off by it. She welcomed it. Being on the same page as her mother was something that she used to take for granted, but now cherished more and more.
"How are you feeling? It's no secret that you've kicked Malachi out."
"Jensen as well," Bra said. "I told Malachi to take his son with him."
"Hm, I see. You told us about Malachi, but what about Jensen?"
"What about Jensen?" Bra asked stubbornly.
"Surely, you have a reason for telling Malachi to take him with him. Did you think he'd be better off?"
Bra looked away as she asked this. "Yeah," she said quietly.
"Do you really believe that?" her mother pressed. "You honestly think Malachi is doing much better than you at this point?"
Bra looked at her mother with furrowed eyebrows. "What does it matter? —he's the one who lied to me. And I'm not responsible for Jensen even existing in the first place. Those are his problems that he needs to deal with."
Her mother seemed unperturbed and her eyes had not strayed from her. "That's true," she said much to Bra's surprise. "Oh, don't look at me like that—it is—I'm just trying to be objective. But, it's not always so cut and dry, not when it comes to things of the heart. It gets very complicated, very fast and all you can do is make the best decision you can at that moment. It can be really difficult and it takes a lot out of you, I should know."
"Mom, I know this is all happening really fast, but as soon he told me the truth about himself I knew it couldn't last. I knew at that very moment. Do you think I was being rash? I mean, you understand, right? You can't have a real relationship without any sex whatsoever. Everybody knows that."
"Actually," her mother began drawing out the word, "That isn't altogether correct. I've heard of many kinds of romantic relationships and not all of them include sex."
"Really?" Bra asked mystified. She hadn't expected to hear this from her mother.
"At a pretty young age too." Her mother made herself a little more comfortable as she moved back further onto her bed towards the pillows. "In high school, I used to know this boy who went to the same computer science class as me. Even from the first day of seeing him, I knew he was really smart. I'd kind of heard of him already—I mean, when you're that smart people tend to take notice. Everyone knew he'd be valedictorian, but nobody really liked him. He wasn't very sociable, kept to himself and his books. He wasn't part of anything at school."
"Wait a minute, you're really smart too," Bra argued. "I thought you would have been valedictorian."
Her mother laughed again and then shook her head. "I have my niche, but I've certainly never claimed to be good at everything. I got so bored with all the other subjects that didn't deal with technology or science that I almost didn't graduate at all. It was never something I was clamoring for anyway. I had my eyes set on adventure and my dad owned a corporation that I knew I would work at in the future—it was right down my alley and I knew I would love doing it. Everything was set for me. School was nothing more than recreational and a place to, well, hook up. Now where was I? That boy who was really smart wasn't just good in the class I took with him, but everything. I'd heard of him, but I'd never taken notice of him until he took the same class as me. I was between boyfriends at the time and I was looking for someone who was 'different' or just not the usual type I went with. Also, I just wanted a challenge. That's all he was to me in the beginning."
"What was his name?" Bra asked.
"Auden Tyga. I thought his last name was really cute and when I got a good look at him, he was also pretty cute. He had that long, blond hair forever in one of those man buns and crystal blue eyes often obscured by eyeglasses. He wore all the wrong clothes, sometimes even shirts with holes in them, shoes that were coming apart and those eyeglasses always had duct tape around the bridge to keep them in place. I was a little bratty at the time and thought less of him simply because of those things. I thought I could fix him up. If I could just show him how to dress…I didn't know just how dirt poor he was or that the person who probably should have been teaching him how to do such things was often too busy working three jobs. I learned that later, but I walked into it all wrong. I thought I knew better. I thought I could fix him."
"So you just took him under your wing?" Bra said, "I bet he must have liked that."
"It wasn't that easy. I started sitting next to him in class and talking to him. I could tell he was really uncomfortable when I did all that and I could barely get him to acknowledge me, but once I got him talking about computers—well he opened up to me very quickly. I thought I knew a decent bit about computers, but he knew a lot more especially coding. He started teaching me new things as I innocently, or not so innocently, pretended to be extra curious about the class and the lessons. Not that I wasn't, I just never spent a great deal of time talking about it to others. Soon the pretending became less so and more of me being in awe. I think he was excited about the fact that I was not only interested in the same things as him, but also could follow what he was talking about. He started sitting next to me instead of the other way around.
"As we hung out more and more, for a while, I kind of spent less time with my usual crowd. I invited him to my house many times and each time he declined. I felt I was reaching a roadblock with him because although we liked hanging out and talked a lot, he never volunteered much information about himself personally. I'd told him a good deal about myself, but he'd yet to return the favor. So one day I just asked—I was a little rude about it, but, you know, I was getting impatient. He seemed confused about why I was so concerned about it—there wasn't much to tell. It was just him being socially awkward instead of what I thought was deliberately hiding information. That's when I really learned about him. He lived a world apart from me. I was so carefree just going through life always having what I wanted and doing what I liked. He desperately wanted to get into college and find a good job so that he could finally help his mother. He liked computers sure, but he never would have delved so deep into his studies about it if it wasn't a means to an end. He'd researched long ago that technology jobs were the easiest to get and paid well. Along the way, he started to like it and he had a knack for it.
"After he told me all this, I started buying him stuff, lots of stuff because I felt bad for him. I'd never known anyone like that and all I wanted to do was spend money on him and protect him from all the bullies and just, in general, make things easier. He told me to stop, but I didn't listen. He told me to stop again and I still didn't listen. He threatened to stop being friends with him—then I stopped showering him with money. He said he was sure to get a full ride if he kept up his studies and that he planned on getting through college in less than four years. He was surprisingly mature, way more than the other boys and it was only sophomore year."
"Ugh, you're being so long-winded, Mom. When did you start dating him?"
Her mother looked a little annoyed, but still continued. "I was getting to that. By the time I started dating him, he was wearing one of the many eyeglasses I'd bought him and the clothes and shoes as well because his own were so worn out not only that, but a bit too small. He was thankful for that. He wasn't embarrassed at all even if people did start calling me his sugar mamma. Well, maybe he was a little embarrassed, but he was still very thankful. He'd never dated anyone before me. I was his first and I was determined to teach him everything.
"Once you really got to know him, he was really a sweet, gentle guy. He wasn't really romantic at all, but I knew he cared about me. It felt more like we were just best friends rather than dating. He didn't like being touched which really started getting on my nerves. Every time I tried to kiss him, he'd either hug me or avoid me altogether. I just attributed it all to inexperience. Then, when I tried to take it a step further despite not ever being able to properly kiss him, I scared him off. I kinda…pushed him into a corner and started, well, you know and he was horrified. I could see it plainly on his face. He hated it. I'd never seen him so panicked before.
"So he was like Malachi. That's why you eventually broke up with him."
"Not quite," her mother said wagging her index finger. "It was a little weird the day after when I didn't see him in school. When I called him, he apologized for what happened yesterday and told me he wasn't feeling well."
"Just because you tried to make out with him?" Bra asked incredulously.
"No," her mother said shaking her head, "He was actually sick—coughing, sneezing, the whole nine and he sounded terrible over the phone 'cus his nose was so stuffy. I kinda felt bad for him because I knew his mother wouldn't be there to take care of him. He'd be at home all alone. He hated missing class too. I told him to tell me all the classes he took and I made sure to get copies of all the notes and write down all the homework for each of them. He told me I didn't have to do all that, but I just wanted to. I kinda felt bad doing what I did yesterday and I still hadn't verbally apologized. This was my apology. I'd never gone over to his place, but I knew where he lived since he'd told me before.
"I'd never seen a place so rundown and dingy. It was no place for a girl like me to be, but Auden was there. It was a bit like an adventure and I was all for that. Weird, shady people stood out on corners, loud music was playing making the ground shake, and I felt like everyone was staring at me. I felt out of place. I was all too glad to make it to the apartment. He lived on the bottom floor. For some reason the door was unlocked—he told me later that the lock just didn't work for the door and maintenance hadn't seen fit to fix it. First thing I heard was his coughing. I saw several roaches and other insects before I actually reached his room. No wonder he was sick. It was a wonder he wasn't sick more often. Living in a place like that…it was gross. The place was as clean as it could be. I could tell there'd been some effort put into keeping it decent, but the paint on the walls was still peeling, the carpet smelled weird and had an odd shade of green. Furniture in the living room had holes in it. The air was stale and dry—enough to make me cough. When I found him in his room, he looked absolutely terrible. His room was the same shade of gray and green like the living room. His covers were faded and forgettable. The only thing new and bright in his room were the eyeglasses I'd bought him placed carefully and neatly on the nightstand.
"He was surprised to see me and more than a little concerned that I'd come all the way there on my own. It took me a lot just to calm him down. I brought him his homework and everything. For that he was very thankful despite repeatedly saying that I didn't need to do all that. Despite looking and feeling like dirt, he wanted to start on it immediately—seeing all that school stuff really perked him up. If he had energy for that, then he had energy for me. So I asked him about his strange behavior yesterday."
Bra waited in bated breaths for her mother to continue.
"Auden told me that he made for a terrible boyfriend. He wasn't interested in romance, he was barely interested in relationships in general because it seemed to entail everything that he wanted to avoid. He found touching, kissing, and especially sex to be utterly disgusting and repulsive. He also told me that before meeting me he'd take a PC over human interaction any day. He told me that he really liked me because he liked the way my mind worked, my bubbly personality, and my stubbornness. I asked him how he knew he hated those things if he never tried it before. He was still a virgin. He just knew. As beautiful as I was, he'd never felt any desire to make love to me. That was the same with anyone. Even at this age when hormones were supposed to be raging, he felt none of those things. He didn't feel as if he was missing out on anything either."
"That's so weird. What did you do then when he said that?" Bra asked.
"I accepted him for who he was. It made sense to me. It explained everything. I'd been around him for awhile and he was unlike any boy I'd ever tried to woo before. Actually, I felt kind of honored that a guy like that even liked me. He liked me enough to want to pursue a relationship with me. I didn't like him any less afterwards, but he was unwilling to compromise. Just because I liked him so much and I valued our relationship, I was willing to settle for an aromantic relationship as long as he allowed me to pursue other boys. He didn't like that and there were a few other things we didn't see eye to eye on namely my smoking, my restlessness, his surprisingly old-fashioned values. That's why we broke up."
"But how could he say that he just knew? Especially since he's a virgin," Bra asked confused returning to her earlier explanation of Auden's odd tendencies or lack there of.
"I'd like to think that if we can know we want to have sex when the time comes whether we're a virgin or not, the same can be applied to the opposite."
"So, in the end, it just didn't work. Because he was like that—that's why. It's the same way with me and Malachi."
"Is it really?" her mother asked. "Machi wasn't made through osmosis," she said with a laugh.
"Of course not, but it's not like he wanted to have relations with me."
"And he told you that?"
"Mom, I already told you. He doesn't want to have anything to do with sex."
"But did he specifically say that he hated doing those things with you? Did he say that he never wanted to do anything like that with you ever again?"
"Well, no, but it's obviously implied."
Her mother was quiet for a moment looking at her pensively. "It sounds an awful lot like you're assuming things. From what I can tell, Malachi is definitely different from Auden. I knew immediately that something was up when I was dating Auden, but you've been dating Malachi for a very long time and this only comes up now?"
"I know it's weird," Bra said, "But that's what he told me."
"I'm not doubting he did say that to you. I think he had good reason to not say it until now."
"So, you're on his side?" Bra asked.
"No, I'm saying that I understand. He's a lot more aware than Auden. Who knows? Maybe he's been through something similar with other women and he wanted to be more careful this time. He knew though, he must have known that telling you that would have changed things so he waited and waited."
"Totally selfish," Bra said haughtily, "he could have saved me all the trouble."
"We all want something out of a relationship," her mother said, "Perhaps we're all selfish. You'll never find a person who will perfectly agree with everything that you agree on and disagree with everything that you disagree on—that person doesn't exist. It's a fool's errand trying to find that. It's when we're unable to compromise and understand each other when a relationship truly fails."
Bra thought for a moment when she heard this. She began thinking about all her other failed relationships trying to find an instance in which this wasn't true. She couldn't dredge up anything. She ended a relationship every time she found something she didn't like about a person and there was always something. Malachi, however, had taken the cake. Never did she think she'd find someone who had differing opinions on what she assumed was the foundation of a good relationship.
"So you're saying that I should just settle."
"No. Never settle for someone who isn't worth your time. You'll be able to tell though, when you've found the one. Sooner or later. For most, we don't even realize we've found the one even when they're staring right at us. I can certainly say that about myself."
"Well, I know Malachi isn't it. I know that for a fact."
"I thought the same thing about Vegeta when I first saw him," her mother said with a grin.
"Really?" she asked,
Her mother nodded, "The stories you've heard about him—they're true. He used to terrorize everyone ruthlessly. He wanted those fabled Dragon Balls so that he could become immortal and he would obtain them at any cost. He had his motivations, sure, but we were unaware of them at the time. He was not the guy one would ever think would make for a good husband. Everything was working against us and yet here we are."
"It's not the same," Bra said shaking her head. "It just isn't. I can't…have the life I pictured with him. It would have to be with someone else. There has to be someone else."
"I understand," her mother said as she sat up and then climbed off the bed. "I completely understand. That's why I've given you a day to yourself to have a little fun, take your mind off things for a while. You've been walking around here completely miserable—don't think I haven't noticed. Wallowing like that isn't good for anyone's health. Do me a favor and actually use this time to get out of the house," her mother said placing a gentle hand on her shoulder."
"Alright," Bra said barely able to manage the smallest of smiles. "Guess I'll try to figure something out."
She watched her mom leave and then sat quietly on her bed. She was still in a piss-poor mood despite forcefully trying to think of anything that wasn't about Malachi, but it was hard to do. She sat on the bed that they had shared for some time. Machi who at least was quiet now was a result of their love. She couldn't even be sure if her parents were on her side. What she thought was earthshattering news didn't seem to affect them as much as she thought. They just seemed confused not on Malachi's apparent asexuality, but the fact that this was enough to end things with him. Maybe they didn't know enough about it. All they saw was that Machi was a thing—clearly Malachi didn't completely abstain from such activities. But it was more than that, she kept trying to say. They didn't understand that she couldn't be in a relationship with such a person—it went against everything she was. She'd heard of such people, but had never really believed that it could actually be real let alone actually dating one for so long. The way Malachi was able to hide things, she wondered if he even was what he said he was. Even now, she wondered if there wasn't something else he had been trying to hide.
Yet, the more she thought about it, the more this began to explain his behavior. They went a year without having it and Malachi had not been all that concerned with it. She should have known something was up then, but she'd been too wrapped up in him to take notice. She made every excuse she could to explain it away, but surely she should have known that no normal person could go that long especially not a guy unless they made some sort of conscious decision on their part. Very rarely was he thinking about sex. He wasn't wholly unaware of such things, but often when her lewd jokes were clever and lowkey, he would miss them altogether until she pointed them out. He could watch romantic comedies with her and not be affected in the way that she wanted. He listened to R&B music a lot—it was one of the many genres he liked, but this was the first one he was introduced to—yet he enjoyed it like a child would enjoy watching cartoons.
She'd never met someone who always required so much foreplay no matter what the occasion. She could be feeling particularly frisky, but he would never actually match her enthusiasm until he worked himself up to it. There were far too many nights in which she would jump on top of him in the middle of some mildly interesting conversation and he would become visibly annoyed as if conversation meant more to him than what she was doing. He would always eventually oblige her, but there was never a point in which this wasn't the case unless it was something he knew or expected would happen which was far and few in between.
There were so many small things about him that she could recount that supported what he told her, but even now, after being able to think over what he'd told her, it was all too much, too fast. It also wasn't fair. How dare he paint some false picture of himself and then destroy it all in one horrible stroke?
Her mother was right, she needed to get out and go somewhere. Dwelling on the past was doing nothing for her. She felt as if she was going around and around in a circle. With a huff, she proceeded to her closet to find something that would make her look flawless that day and she would go make-up shopping.
The brightly lit store was where only the most prominent of make-up artists or other A-list celebrities would frequent. The selection was wide and varied, but only the best lines of make-up were showcased here. Even brands that one might find at the drugstore had their high-quality lines that were just for people like her who could afford to drop so much money on something that usually wouldn't last for very long. This was also a place that she'd never gone to with Malachi so it wasn't tainted with memories of him.
Bra had already spent nearly an hour in the lip section trying on a variety of colors. The blue shades would get her every time as she thought it brought out her vibrant hair and her milky white skin. Eventually, she made her way to the foundation section—a place which confused her more than any other section. Different foundations did different things to one's face and she wasn't always sure what she wanted. It was in this section as she browsed that she was approached by a lady who worked there.
"Oh, honey, you look absolutely stunning," she said with a big, inviting smile.
"Thank you," Bra said enthusiastically with a smile of her own. Compliments never failed to put her in a good mood especially if it was from a complete stranger.
"So what brings you here today?" the woman asked.
The woman appeared a bit older than she and long dark green hair made her pine green eyes almost entrancing. Her voice was a bit deeper than a typical woman, making her seem even older in Bra's opinion. At the very least, she wore her make-up well. Bra imagined she was hiding a much older looking face.
"Nothing in particular," Bra said with a sigh, "I was just browsing. Anything new come out?"
The woman—who's name was Amayah according to her name badge—was all too happy to share with her the newer products in the store especially the two new brands that had just started making itself known. Bra simply followed Amayah, enjoying all the commentary she had on the topic and adding a few of her own opinions. She hadn't been sure that she would actually buy anything, but this woman could easily have her buying up the entire store with the way she was describing the products and their uses. She disclosed to her that there were no skin issues she had to deal with, but anything that could make her look as flawless as possible was something she almost always went for.
Bra eventually picked out five different products that she was not completely sold on buying. That was when Amayah decided that she'd simply apply the make-up fully so that she could see and feel it. Bra was delighted to hear such things—one of the things she liked was having someone other than herself putting on the make-up. It would be just like a real transformation since she wasn't seeing every step of the process. All she had to do at the end was look into a mirror and see just how perfect she'd become. Bra had her eyes closed as Amayah began.
"I couldn't help but notice that you look like the woman that Malachi's been dating for a while now—If you don't mind me pointing out," she said in a pleasant air as she applied cleaning astringent to her skin.
"Well, I do mind—a little. My name's Bra, by the way, not 'Malachi's girlfriend'," she said with a frown.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just really terrible with names. I'll make sure to remember yours though, miss."
"It's alright. I'm just giving you a hard time. I'm not in the best of moods. Besides, I try to stay out of the limelight. Can't expect people to know me that well."
"I see. Well, Bra, I've been having a great time with you today. Mondays are a bit slow in here and might I say, your face, the structure—it's just perfect for an artist like me. Do you mind if I take a few liberties? If you don't like it, I can change it easily."
Bra shrugged. "Do what you like so long as I look beautiful."
Amayah grinned. "You won't regret it. I'll give you a more high-fashion look."
Bra was simply glad to have given the other a reason to take a little longer. She was in no rush and she loved being pampered.
"How's life been for you, Bra?" Amayah asked.
Bra couldn't answer this immediately as she wondered how truthful she should be. Amayah, after all, was a complete stranger and it was dangerous for her to put out too much personal information. Her mom always warned her against doing this for as long as she could remember. For that reason alone, she was usually quite a guarded person around strangers and gave them short, snappy answers to questions that her mother would have thought too deep. Today, however, she could care less.
"Shitty, actually," Bra said.
"Honey, the whole world wants to be in your shoes and yet even a woman like you can be miserable. Now that's a sobering thought."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be, that's for sure. People ain't always what they seem."
Even though she was talking about Malachi, it didn't hurt as it had back at home. Perhaps it had something to do with the feeling of soft bristles running along her skin.
"Don't I know it," Amayah said in agreement. "How's he been lately?"
Bra didn't answer her as she thought the question was a bit odd coming from someone she barely knew.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Amayah said as Bra assumed she'd noticed her intrusiveness. "I forgot to say—I knew him in the past. You see a lot of people when you're a make-up artist. I didn't always have this particular job. Back then I was more mobile and took commissions as they came up."
"And at one point, you worked for Malachi?" Bra asked.
"You hit the nail on the bud, miss."
"How well did you know him?" Bra asked trying to understand what kind of relationship this deep-voiced woman could have had with him in the past. She could just as likely be lying, but Bra had no reason to believe that. Amayah had given no telltale signs of being untrustworthy. Her tone had not changed nor her heartrate.
"Quite well actually," Amayah answered as she continued to put on a good layer of primer. "We dated once upon a time."
This took Bra by surprise and she opened up one eye to look at the other a little better. It was a first. Bra thought it would have been impossible to run into someone who had known the hermit-like Malachi more than just an acquaintance. She'd learned long ago that he preferred being apart from people rather than being outgoing. He might have known a lot of people, but to very few did he ever reveal even a modicum of the self that was behind the persona. Bra had even started to believe that she was his first as she never got around to asking about his exes and he never volunteered information. What were the odds of finding such a person by accident?
Amayah didn't look like Malachi's type. There was something manish about her aside from her voice. As she gave her a quick glance she could see the other smiling to herself. Perhaps there had been an ulterior motive to approaching her that afternoon. She knew already that she was dating Malachi. It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that she'd simply been curious about him and had wanted to ask her about him all along. The real question was, if this was really the case, why did she seek such information from her? Could she not contact the man herself? Maybe she was just dealing with some crazy woman. She didn't seem this way, however. Bra could sense no ill will from her. In fact, she seemed quite proud of herself as she dutifully applied a good layer of foundation.
"Really?" Bra asked despite herself. "Malachi never mentioned you."
"I wouldn't expect he would. It's been a while. Almost a decade."
"What was he like back then, when you met him?" Bra asked. She hadn't even bothered answering the woman's question, but she felt her own curiosity was far more important. She hardly felt like coming up with something to say about how Malachi was doing—she really had no idea.
Amayah took a moment to answer as another cool stroke of cream was massaged gently onto her skin. "You must know already—you've been dating him for a while—he's a bit different."
"Asexual, you mean?" Bra asked unabashed. She'd yell it out to the whole world if she could. She had half a mind to.
"Yes. When I met him he was terribly inexperienced, he didn't even know it himself. We spoke easily with each other and that was enough. He insisted on dating me despite, well, the fact that I wasn't completely done with my own transformation—if you know what I mean."
"What?" Bra asked in surprise. "You were…"
"Oh, I was womanly enough, but I was far less polished back then," Amayah said with a wink. "And he was a naïve boy. Old enough to be called an adult, but quite sheltered nonetheless. His manager slash adoptive father slash everything had him completely under his thumb. At the first sign of freedom, he took it. Thought he was doing things now that he had me to call a girlfriend. I noticed how he was around people. Always well poised, always well practiced, revealing little about himself while seeming as candid as possible. It was quite a feat for someone his age, but he pulled it off well. Sometimes I forget just how long he'd already been in the music industry. Yet he was still naïve in my eyes. He gravitated to me, I guess, because I was 'different' from everyone. He just trusted me more and he wasn't very subtle in wanting to hang out with me outside of work.
"He really hadn't the foggiest idea what dating really was. He was never told these things. The poor thing was simply winging it and I knew it. I kind of took it upon myself to educate him."
"I had no idea," Bra said, "I can't even imagine him like that."
"I taught him well," Amayah said with an air of pride. "He caught on quickly enough. We hung out a lot, watched plenty of movies, strolled through many-a parks, and played many-a games. But that was all we did. If he hadn't been so insistent on calling it 'dating', I would have described it as just being really good friends. In the beginning, I never did anything with him or even tried because it never felt right and it never seemed as if he was in the right mood for it. Then one day, I asked him a few questions about things like what he thought a real relationship should entail, whether he found me attractive or not, have you even once thought about making love to me in the past few months we've known each other."
"And…what did he say?" Bra asked quietly.
"You probably know already. He was incredibly vague with the relationship question—he really had no idea other than the fact that we should both be happy and try to have fun. For the what-he-thought-of-my-looks question, he told me that he never looked at people like that. It didn't matter to him. What people called attractive to him was just another set of rules that he had to remember. There was this disconnect—can you imagine?" Amayah asked in an incredulous tone, "He doesn't have any personal stake in what one looks like. He understands the concept, but it doesn't actually—what's the word I'm looking for?—resonate with him. He could appreciate beauty in itself, but it was not attractive to him. Do you understand?"
"I think I do," Bra said. "It's just another thing I didn't know about. I guess that would be pretty difficult to explain and probably irrelevant. It would have been nice to know. I would try to dress provocatively. I used to be so worried about keeping my figure because I didn't want to disappoint him. All of that was apparently a moot point. He could care less either way."
"That isn't to say, he didn't appreciate the effort I took in taking care of myself. I was a make-up artist after all. I doubt he'd take very kindly to slobs, not because of what they look like but because of how they carried themselves. As for the last question, I guess you know the answer to that. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. I asked him if he even knew what I was talking about. Did he even have a concept of it? He told me that he knew of it, but didn't understand it and certainly had never participated in it before. I thought I'd found my solution. I would 'educate' him in the ways of a relationship and see where it goes from there. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions about him, but after a while, after almost two years of dating, I knew he wasn't into sex at all. We watched literal porn together just so he could understand. The poor boy didn't even know how to kiss people properly," Amayah said with a laugh. "It was incredible how he could sit there and watch so much porn with me and treat it as if he was in a classroom watching some boring educational segment. He was fascinated by it, but not personally affected.
"One day, I told him what he was and strangely enough he took it as an insult. It was really the first and only argument we ever had. He seemed in complete and utter denial, but I think it was only because he didn't understand what it meant. There was a bit of a stigma around the very concept of asexuality—it was an orientation that didn't really exist and there were plenty of excuses out there to explain someone's lack of interest in sex. Had something traumatic happened to the person? Had he simply not experienced it the right way? There were many professionals that saw this as only a symptom of a larger issue. To him, being called asexual was tantamount to being called weird and damaged. Though he already had a reputation of being a bit odd, that was the kind of oddness that was too far even for him and especially for the image he'd worked so hard to establish and maintain.
"We didn't talk for days after that until he just called me out of the blue asking if I could just visit and that he was sorry about last time. I suspected he'd looked further into the subject and done some personal evaluation—he was the kind of person to do that sort of thing. That was because I'd told him in the first place and maybe I hadn't been all that gentle about revealing it. I knew he'd look into it sooner or later. He wanted someone to talk to and as far as I knew, he didn't appear to have friends with which he could do that with. From what he'd told me about Quint, he wouldn't be ideal either. It was one of the strangest relationships I'd come across. Basically, Quint was called his father in name only, but he saw Malachi only as a product, a thing that could be molded into perfection and be made to perform and make him wealthier. Quint was quite well-off in his own right, but his association with Malachi took him out of the producer circle and into the limelight, making him far more well-known than he'd ever been before. He saw to every inch of Malachi's life and forbade him from doing a great many things so that he could remain focused and at his best. There were times when I'd been there at their place and I'd hear them arguing downstairs and it seemed to me that on a regular basis, Quint would threaten to send him back to 'that orphanage' anytime Malachi disagreed with him on something. It was depressing to hear even if by then, it was an empty threat as he was an adult, but I'm sure it was something Quint said even when he was younger.
"I did sort of pity him," Amayah admitted. "He had no real foundation and he was stumbling through the dark. Quite frankly I was surprised he was functioning as well as he was. He could have turned out to be a complete ass and it would have been understandable. We talked that day and he poured his heart out to me, he said he had a greater understanding about himself and that he was very thankful."
"So why did you two break-up?" Bra asked.
"Ah, well, it was a gradual thing. We saw less of each other. He was very busy all the time. I was very busy as well. Then he called me one day just to say that it would be better if we went our separate ways. I didn't want that. I was fine with what we had. As much as I pitied him, I respected him too. I can tell that he really enjoyed being around me and he was the most attentive, well behaved boyfriend I'd ever had. You would think, a guy like that has all the chances in the world to slip up and cheat. I was around him for a bit when he was touring and he literally could sleep with any woman or man he wanted. The world was infatuated with him. They still are. That he was so nice only made him that much more sought after.
"The real reason, though he wouldn't say it directly to me, was because he wanted children one day. He was always thinking about the future. One day this or one day that. He was fine with adopting children, but he always expressed interest in having his own child, one that was biologically his and he wanted that child to be made between two people who loved each other. It was so far off and so unattainable to him that it was more like a fantasy. Even before he 'knew' about himself, he did know that such a thing was impossible for someone like him. I might have made him a more confident person and made his dream begin to seem less like a pipedream and more like reality. I let him go because it seemed like he was ready to move on. I didn't hassle him or make him feel guilty. I simply said that I understood and that I hoped he found happiness. I was actually rooting for him long after we stopped seeing each other. I hoped that he wouldn't find someone who would take advantage of him. I hoped he found that person who would accept him fully. I knew the world could be a cruel place and I knew that he was, at times, far too gentle and kind for his own good. He had a tough skin sure, but underneath was something vulnerable, soft, and easily damaged."
"All I hear is raving reviews from you," Bra said in a less than enthused tone. "The guy you described is different from what I've experienced."
"It's been a while," Amayah admitted, "Things could have changed. People change. Who knows what could have happened from then to now? I imagine he's a lot more cautious now though, a bit more tactful."
"Why is that?" Bra asked a bit sharply.
"Because of women in general," Amayah said in her same pleasant tones. She was carefully contouring her face now—almost done with her look. "Because of society in general. Many would balk at the idea of dating someone like Malachi if they knew and it would be treated as if it was a matter of common sense to react that way."
"So you think it's a good thing to lie about yourself? If he'd just been upfront about things…"
"It's a means to an end, honey. It's wrong, I know, I see your point, but who really feels like being rejected over and over again? Even Malachi who always seemed to have great self-esteem if anything else, wouldn't last very long under such conditions. Then it's game over. If it's one thing that most people don't like, it's a lack of self-confidence nevermind everything else. So, let me guess," Amayah said with a sigh, "He told you and you bailed just like that," she finished with a snap of her finger.
"Yeah, in fact I did. Do you have a problem with that?" Bra asked haughtily, wondering if she would soon have to defend her actions to the likes of a complete stranger no less, someone who was supposed to be serving her at this point. She was the customer and the customer was always right.
"It's your prerogative," Amayah said.
"You should be ecstatic right about now. He's free again."
"I've long since moved on, dear. I'm not married, but I'm already in a committed relationship with a great man. I like Malachi, but not enough to ruin what I already have."
"Well," Bra said caught off guard by this. Amayah wasn't even nearly the desperate woman who Bra had been trying to paint in her mind. "That's good—I mean, your relationship. I hope it works out."
"Me too," Amayah said simply, "Though, you haven't told me—how's Malachi been doing?"
"We don't talk," Bra said. "After I broke it off with him, we haven't said a word to each other. I'm sure he's fine."
Amayah was putting the finishing touches on Bra as she began blending and sending powder everywhere. "I doubt it, honey. I sincerely doubt it. But I do hope he bounces back."
"Amayah, I do believe that you've been trying to guilt-trip me this entire time. I won't feel sorry for an asshole who decided to wait until the last minute to tell me something that important."
"Alright," Amayah said backing off from her. "Can't blame a girl for trying. It's always a beautiful thing when you see people get back together, but I guess I shouldn't intrude like that. I don't know all the facts."
"You don't," Bra said. She'd not revealed to her that they had actually had a child together or the strangeness that surrounded Jensen—she didn't feel like it either.
"Alright, girl, I'm finished. Look at yourself in the mirror."
Bra turned happily to the brightly lit mirror and was pleasantly surprised. She almost didn't recognize herself, but in a good way. Who was that mysterious, dazzling woman staring back at her? "All the products that you used on me—I want to buy all of them," Bra said quickly. "This is—wow, you're really good."
"I know," Amayah said smugly, "And you were an easy one."
Bra was feeling over the moon about herself. She felt like the most beautiful woman on the planet—a princess. This woman who had once dated Malachi was also the best make-up artist she had run into. She was a bit strange, but good at what she did. Was this the sort of women that Malachi preferred? Was he truly only drawn to women he thought were a bit strange? Bra would certainly not put herself in the same category as Amayah, but something must have interested him in the first place. Learning that she was only half-human must have been a big draw, but he hadn't known that before. Maybe the answer was simple. Maybe he'd known she was the daughter of Bulma—the smartest woman in the world; a genius according to many articles. It wouldn't surprise her if this was the case. She was sheltered and not very much was known publicly about her; her mother had kept it like that deliberately probably for Vegeta's sake, but also for all her friends. That was all it had taken.
She felt more like herself as she walked out of the store with newfound confidence. No matter what happened to her in life, she vowed to never lose that confidence again and especially not for the actions of one man. She wondered briefly how he was faring though she didn't want to dwell on it. Amayah had probably been right. When she started to recall the look of absolute shock on his face, when she started to realize how much he had invested into their relationship, how clearly he'd shown he actually cared about Machi, the expensive diamond rings he'd been looking into on multiple pages on his phone, she realized that he wasn't doing well. It would be ridiculous and naïve to assume otherwise. The more she thought about it, the more she didn't want to know. Placing herself into other's shoes wasn't exactly a pastime of hers—she hated doing it. She hated all the guilt associated.
For now she felt good and that was all that mattered. That was all she was willing to care about.
