Chapter 19: Envy Is Beauty

"So, you have a date today?" Sam quickly pulled the question the moment the morning came two days after her informing of the text message her best friend got one night. Needless to say, the answer to this typical question is "yes" and probably something sarcastic along the way. It was morning, but in only less than an hour, the young woman who had been pleading and begging for a break in her relationships would finally be able to go out on an actual date without worrying about being taken advantage of in the process. Her mind was still hazy with those paranoid thoughts, but she somehow found it easy to push them aside and focus on her own happiness.

Alli stood in the bathroom, brushing and trying to figure out if she should leave her strawberry blond hair that she had worked on for the past two hours straightening it down or should she put it in some sort of cute, schoolgirl kind of look. Sam stood in the doorway, talking to her, while the sound of the television could be heard from the living room, Sophia watching the cute and tween-popular show called Hannah Montana. A song started playing that totally made the young woman's spirits lift—a song by Billy Ray Cyrus called "Get Ready, Get Set, Don't Go." As Alli was finally deciding to leave her hair straight as it was, she finished up by applying a layer of clear lip-gloss, eyeliner, and a soft shade of gold eye-shadow to her lids before she finally stepped out of the bathroom and spun for her friend happily.

"You look cute," Sam told her. She pouted at the red haired woman, as that wasn't the response she wanted to hear.

"I wasn't going for cute. I was going for maybe hot, or sexy?" they were words she wanted to hear so badly. She wanted to feel sexy, she wanted to feel hot. After all, she was competing against hundreds of beautiful and obsessive fan-girls that were probably willing to give their soul to be with the man she was about to go out on a date with.

She had been dying for this day to come ever since she got that text message one night, and felt her heart flutter excitedly inside. She felt as if she was dancing on a cloud, and she was waiting for her prince to join her. She had talked to him a few times since then, and although those calls were mostly made to discuss where they were going, what day they were going, what time, and so on, they seemed to turn into so much more. She literally found herself giggling at whatever he said, even if it wasn't supposed to be funny. She found herself thinking about him a lot, and whenever she found herself talking about him—that was constantly to whomever was around, despite their annoyance and unwillingness to listen—she felt like her mind was floating on a cloud, just coming closer and closer to where he waited for her. She was so excited for this date, she had even raided her best friend's closet to find something that would fit with the evening and make her look appealing. So far, what she had absolutely fallen in love with was what she was wearing, and she was hoping that he would fall in love with it, too. It was a blouse that Sam hadn't worn in years, but Alli had always loved it, it was a low-cut, vertically striped black and white, long-sleeve shirt that fell loosely around the arms, but seemed to accentuate more of the chest and less of the of the waist. Her bottoms were a pair of black jeans that she always loved ever since she had bought them years back, and it was incredible that they were actually a bit loose on her. They were of loose denim material, but they had golden studs along the back pockets and golden seams along the sides. They were cute, and with her favorite pair of black heels—just low enough to where they were going to bruise her heels or make her trip in them, but just high enough to add a sense of sexiness to her—she felt as if she was going to a club rather than on a date. Her friend Sam looked her over, and in one beaming smile, she told her everything she needed to hear, everything that she wanted to hear. The two girls had been friends for so long, it seemed that they could read each other's minds in an instant without ever saying anything.

Alli walked away from her friend and through the hallway, she walked into her room to retrieve her wallet and cellphone. She looked around at the four walls, decorated in lame posters and pictures of favorite bands and celebrities—Lifehouse, Evanescence, Three Days Grace, Orlando Bloom, Nickelback, Johnny Depp, etc.—and everything just seemed to be all new to her. That was how she was going to be looking on the world today. Everything was new to her. The sunlight streamed into the room from behind the closed curtains of the open window, lighting it to where a peaceful, almost innocent nature existed. It seemed that this room wasn't that of a twenty-one-year-old, but rather the bedroom of a teenage girl, starting off new in this wild world. Her wings had at last spread, and she was ready to take flight into that new world that lingered just beyond the limits of imagination.

Getting lost in her own thoughts, she gathered up her things that laid on her bed, and she headed out towards the living room where the little girl sat on the floor, sitting right in front of the television—despite the hundreds of times the women have told her not to.

"Pretty Sophie, don't sit so close. You'll wreck your eyes." Okay, hundred and one times.

The child looked up, and the moment she did, the older cousin saw the pain, the loneliness within those emerald green eyes. The innocent one leaped to her feet, and lunged at her, throwing her arms around the older woman's waist, as if becoming an ornament that had permanently placed itself on her body. Tears streamed down the adolescent's face as she clung to this body, and both adults looked at each other, surprised, even, that she would act this way.

"Please, Allison, don't leave me! Please, don't go! I'll be good, I promise! Don't go!" the child cried, and the woman's heart broke at the sound of those cries. What was going through this little girl's mind? Was she actually thinking that she would leave?

"Sophia, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going on a date. Did you think that I was leaving for good?" she kneeled down to the child's height, and saw the answer in those sparkling, graceful eyes. Everything about this youth made her heart break, made her want to cry and just hold her. And that's what she did. She embraced the little girl around the neck, holding her close. No matter what people said or think about this, Sophia was always going to be seen as her child, no matter what happens.

"Pretty Sophie, I'm only going to be gone for a couple of hours. You have nothing to worry about," she assured the child.

"But…you were spending so much time out a couple days ago! And…you spend the night at so many other places! I thought you were leaving!" Sophia cried, her tears falling onto the woman's revealed chest. Alli leaned down and kissed the top of the girl's head, feeling her heart sob even more for her. It could be understood why should would think that, though? But one thing was definitely certain….

"Sophia, if I was leaving, I'd take you with me. I'd never go anywhere without you."

The child pulled away, tear-filled eyes, and looked up into the older cousin's storm gray eyes. There was so much pain in those eyes, but she knew it was only due to fear and anxiety of events that have happened in the past few weeks. There was no doubt about it. Sophia had been exposed to the world her older cousin had been trying to shelter her from, and this was the result.

"Really?"

"Really. I love you, Sophia."

"I love you, too, Alli."

The two girls embraced, but within the older woman's mind, there was some concern. Was this really the right thing to do? She felt that she could be threatening this little girl's lifestyle and mental state by going out with this other man. She had been trying to teach her that love would last forever, but Sophia had been raised to think that she and Julian were in love. That was not only a contradicting fact, but it was also quite dangerous to keep that man around, which would lead to this little child walking in on Julian possibly trying to rape her again. She couldn't have that happen. That would take away the innocence she had been filled with, and possibly even traumatize her. She knew Christopher wouldn't do anything like that, but a part of her couldn't help but hold concern….

"Wow."

"What?"

"Wow."

"Is that all you can say? 'Wow'?"

"Yes."

"You're such a jerk."

"Ouch, that hurt."

Alli found herself beaming uncontrollably when she stepped out of the cab and found herself almost literally falling over the man, having grabbed his arm when she tripped over the curb and just narrowly avoided looking like a ditz and a klutz if she had hit the ground on their first date. Not a good first impression, but this man already knew her for a couple of weeks, so it didn't seem to make much of a difference. The man only laughed at this scene, but when her hand wrapped around his arm, it seemed that this moment just faded into the memories in the back of their minds. It was so beautiful, the feeling that she experienced the second she stepped onto the street, her hand on his arm, his smile warming her entire body, her heart pounding loud in her head. She was so nervous, she was gushing red, but she felt relaxed at the same time.

"So, shall we go?" she asked him, and he nodded as he led her into the elegant Italian restaurant—no, not Olive Garden—and at once, the host noticed them. He was a tall man with heavily thick Italian accent, and he nodded when he saw them.

"Are you…" he quickly looked down at his podium. "Eh…Senior Sarantakos?"

"Yes," the man whose arm she clung to answered, and the host led them away towards a table positioned just perfectly in front of a beautiful crafted window. Outside one could see the cars rolling by on the streets, but you could also see the park lingering just across the street, the same park that she felt she would never forget due to their own experience just a few days ago. She found herself blushing red at the thought of it, but what was even more embarrassing was when the moment the host laid down their menus and walked away after calling after a waiter, the man she was sitting across from seemed to practically jump over the table between them, and his lips took possession of hers very aggressively.

She didn't know how to respond, but she loved this strange, spontaneous outburst of affection. His lips were so soft against hers, so loving, and she felt her entire body warm, like as if she had stepped into a hot bath. The warmth was so invigorating, so intoxicating, and she felt her body give into it, submitting itself to the aggressive taste of his mouth. She felt her body shiver slightly, but he didn't allow her to break away. He kept pressing for more, and he even went as far as to physically bite her lip, but the moment he did, he sent a new life of pain through her, and she broke away, sighing from the soreness that erupted from within the layers of her mouth. She pulled back, and it almost made her core sink a little at the look of disappointment in the opposite man's face.

"I'm sorry," she muttered softly, feeling her face flow red. She felt like a child, becoming embarrassed after a quite public display of affection, even though she was the one pressuring for a kiss in front of her eight-year-old cousin and best friend in front of their apartment door. Christopher merely shrugged, but he traced the lining of his lips with one finger playfully.

"I missed it," he told her softly, and she perked an eyebrow, curious as to what he meant. He saw the look, and he beamed at her from behind his index finger. "How they taste. I missed the taste of your lips. So sweet, like strawberries."

She knew he only said that just to make her blush, and it worked. She bowed her head, feeling her cheekbones flare with hot white flames, and she actually felt as if her eyes would fog due to the embarrassment and shyness she was presenting.

"…You're so cute when you blush!"

"What are you thinking?"

She found herself looking up, her silver eyes fogging, becoming like storm clouds, but this time, there was no storm in her mind, not in her world. Only peace, happiness, and the calm tranquility that her world would give her. Only with him could she seem to be able to find that peace she so longed for so many years….

"Nothing," she lied to him, feeling herself grow guilty of making this lie, but she didn't have to wear that hideous mask anymore. She didn't have to hide anything anymore. Everything that was such a heavy burden for her seem to be lifted, and she was merely dancing on a cloud with this man. She didn't really have to say anything, because he seemed to know everything for her.

A waiter came shortly, requesting their orders. Alli had no idea what half the stuff on the menu said, or what it really was, so she was really embarrassed to ask for a plate of lasagna, and the waiter gave her a weird look. Christopher chuckled a little, but he ended up doing the exact same thing—ordering something else, of course—and the waiter merely sulked away, leaving the two "lovebirds," as he so mentioned, alone. A moment passed, a moment of silence, but not the uncomfortable silence of not knowing what to say, but more of the familiar silence of not needing to say anything. It was then that the woman, who had found a new confidence in herself over the past couple of days, looked up, and the man sitting across from her, the illusionist, reached over the table, his hand held out, and a strange expression on his face, his dark eyes flittering under the light of the restaurant.

"Let me see your hand," he ordered of her, but softly. She didn't know what was going through his mind, but she laid her hand softly over his. This wasn't what he wanted, as she found this out when he grabbed that very hand with his other, and flipped it over to where her palm could be seen under the burning light.

A sudden feeling of anxiety rushed inside her, as his free hand slipped down over her sleeve, having seen a brief glimpse of what it was hiding, and he slid the sleeve of the shirt down along her forearm, revealing a clearly visible scar just across diagonally on her wrist. He looked at it, examining it deeply, and she found that she might as well explain to him what the motive behind that scar was. He didn't have to say anything. She already knew what he was thinking, what he was about to ask.

"It's from when I was eighteen. Someone close to me died…I thought I was going to be alone forever…so I tried to…well…" she allowed her sentence to fall away, and he looked up to meet her eyes. She didn't feel like crying. She had no reason to. She had dealt with this tragedy many times over, yet it still seemed to bother her to this day. She wasn't so emotional anymore. She wasn't afraid of telling him everything. He needed to know if he was going to pursue a relationship with her. She found it so much harder to hide things from him, anyways. "I lost someone dearly close to me."

"Oh…" he said this softly, mournfully, as he pulled the sleeve back up to cover the scar. "Do you still miss him?"

"Everyday. I can't stop thinking about him. I loved him so much, I actually felt that the only reason I had to live was to make him happy," she told him softly. Her eyes burned with rising tears. She couldn't get upset now, but from the look on the magician's face, she realized she was upsetting him, if anyone.

"Why are you here, then, if you're not over him?" he sounded irritable, harsh, even. She smiled at him, knowing that he had misinterpreted what she was saying. Many people saw it as that way. Sam did when the news was brought forth to her, but Sam seemed to catch on quicker than anyone else.

"Because I know that he would be happy that I was here…with you. I know he wouldn't mind, he loved me that way," she smiled at him, and she pulled her hand away, only to rest in on top of his own tense and clenched fist. "That's how I knew my father."

"Your father?"

The look on the forty-year-old man's face was absolutely priceless. Shock, surprise, perhaps shame and embarrassment, but it was all a classic look of having been tricked and made to believe something, just like how he had tricked thousands of other people before. He bowed his head, and she couldn't help but grin. She wondered if he, himself, was blushing from what she had led him to believe.

"Who did you think I was talking about?" she teased him, but he didn't answer. He couldn't. He was lost in his own mind, trying to think of how to recover from this sudden revealing of his own imperfections of being simply human. She couldn't help but giggle, but just to put him out of his suffering, she leaned over the table, and without him being able to react, she pressed her lips against his, gently kissing him, but giving enough passion just to tell him everything, without saying anything to him. When she pulled away, she teased him by trailing her fingers along the side of his face playfully, just as she pulled back.

"Christopher, my father was the most important man in my life. But, after three years, I think I've managed to deal with his death and move on. Sophia's a good example of that," she told him. "I'm not allowing things like that slow me down in the process of life. After all, nothing seemed to have slowed you down, has it?"

His smile warmed her again, and she found that it was much easier to talk to him when his eyes had risen and found hers. There was a moment that the world seemed to spun away from them in a colorful blur, and all that remained was the adoration, the tender that left them drifting within that peaceful Eden of theirs. They didn't say anything more even when the entrees came, or when the desert finally came. The rest of the evening was spent in absolute silence, no need to speak, for through fictional telepathy, they already knew what they were thinking, and there was no need to explain further. The next time the two of them did speak, though, was when they were leaving their table. Alli, being her own clumsy self, couldn't step from between the table and booth without practically falling over herself. Needless to say, her knight-in-shining-armor was there to catch her, but not before her wallet seemed to slip out from in her pocket and fell to the ground, flipping open, and revealing not only the collage of photographs, but a small piece of paper flew out from within the darkened chambers of the leather accessory. Christopher beamed at his clumsy princess, and he leaned down to retrieve her item, only to pick up the paper that had fallen. At once, the entire atmosphere of the date changed, and he stood up, using a false smile as he handed her wallet to her, only to slip the paper into his back pocket to confront her about later. With a hidden agenda in mind, he escorted her out of the fancy Italian restaurant—having paid the bill within fifteen minutes before—and allowed her to step into the taxi where they rolled away. The moment the taxi pulled up in front of the proverbial apartment complex, he stepped out, allowing her to follow, but the moment the small yellow car practically swerved beyond the streets, he grabbed her arm—gently, of course—and directed her towards the edge of the walkway near the bushes, and it was there that he turned to her and the look on his face was one of unrecognizable and unfamiliar indulgence in something.

"What's wrong?" she asked of him, and suddenly, her body started trembling with apprehension, as if she had done something wrong and he knew about it.

"Nothing's wrong. I just want to know something…" a playful smile toyed on his lips as he reached into his pocket, and retrieved that paper that had fallen out of her wallet at the restaurant. He looked down at it, while anxiety and fear thrilled in this young woman's veins, but when he finally decided to put her troubling heart at rest, he flipped it over in his hands to show that the item that had fallen out of her wallet was a photograph that was all too familiar to her eyes. A precious photograph that was at one time guarded and protected behind plastic shields that were provided by her wallet, a photograph that she peered at frequently for strength, support, and the longing desire for affection that one might come upon and see when staring at someone who was close to them. It was nothing more than a small, wallet-size picture of the little girl with long ebony hair and graceful, sparkling, yet innocent green eyes that seemed to glimmer and fill with happiness and delight, but at the same time, one who knew these eyes particularly, knew that within those eyes laid the darkened shadows of sorrow and confusion that a child of that age should not experience. She looked from the picture, a soft smile breaking the tension in her face, and tilted her gray, rain eyes towards the black eyes of the man who seemed to sweep her off her feet.

"What do you want to know?" she asked of him, knowing that whatever question he had was probably not going to bother her much. He beamed at her, which interested her in so many ways.

"I know you love this little girl—"

"'Love' doesn't cover it, Criss," Alli corrected him instantly, and he looked at her softly, as if he knew that she was going to say that. Was he really so in-sync with her that he knew what she was about to say?

"I know. Sometimes I envy her," Alli was curious as to why he would say this, but before she could speak, he continued his sentence. "I envy her, because she has you all the time. She has your love completely, and she lives in a world that is pure and innocent. I envy her for so many things, but I don't want to take those things away from her. I don't want to take you away from her."

"You're not going to," was that the wrong thing to say? She didn't know. She couldn't help herself but say it. It was the truth. There was nothing in this world that could rip her from Sophia's side. Absolutely nothing in this world, not even her own happiness. Sophia was the most important thing to her. No one else mattered as much in the end, because in the end, only Sophia would be there to welcome her crying soul home.

"But…how come you're the one taking care of her now? You never told me what happened, how she became your custody. If we're going to build this relationship, I'd rather I know everything about your life beforehand," he told her. Unfortunately, this was something Alli did not want to explain. Not only was it a long story, it was a heart-breaking one, and sometimes those kinds of stories were best left kept up and locked away for all eternity. A voice in her head was telling her not to say anything, not to tell this man anything.

What happens if you two break-up? That means that he'll know everything, and he'll have the power to take advantage of it in the future. Do you really want to put Sophia through that kind of pain? That would wreck her life. Don't do it!

Her heart was telling her something completely different. How come it was that when the opinions of the heart and mind came together, it was nothing but a conflicting war between them both? Alli had to make a decision. She wanted Christopher in her life, but she didn't want to put Sophia through that kind of trauma if they did break-up.

"It's a long story," she told him, suddenly realizing that it wasn't a good excuse, but maybe it was enough to get him off the topic.

"We have time," he replied to her, determined and stubborn. Just like her.

"But I'm cold, and I really should make sure that Sophia isn't driving Sam insane, and I have a ton of homework I have to do for school, and—" Alli was just listing excuse after excuse as she made her way from him towards the staircase, but as she did, he followed her, and just as she was about to walk up the steps, he firmly grabbed her arm, and she frozen in her action. Her entire body filled with a chill, and she felt her body go numb in his touch—which was ironic, considering as he made her feel warm and safe.

"Alli, be honest with me. Do you want to tell me?"

Her heart seemed to stop a little at the sound of disappointment—and shame?—in the man's voice as he spoke, and she felt as if she had let him down. She stepped off the steps, and was forced to turn around to him, try to figure out just what exactly to say to him and explain everything to him without saying everything.

"No," she sighed softly. She had said this much, she might as well saying everything. "I don't want to hurt Sophia. I don't want to put her through such trauma if I do tell you. What happens if I do tell you, and eventually we break-up? You'll know everything about me…and her…."

"And you think I'm going to use it against you?" There was hate in his voice, anger, rage, something, but it wasn't pleasure, it wasn't happiness. He was upset with her. She could read it in those beautiful dark eyes of his. She wanted to look away, to break from the burning glare that was being given from those mesmerizing pools, but she couldn't. He had her frozen in her place, paralyzed, unable to move, and he was suddenly her puppet master—just like so many men before him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, but he apparently didn't hear her.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I got involved with you if you honestly think I'm that kind of person," Criss was majorly upset with her, clenching his fist that held the photograph in it. They both had become oblivious to the fact he still had it. He started to storm off back to the street, while she tailed after him quickly.

"Christopher, wait!"

"You know what, forget it, Allison!" he turned on his heel with lightning reflexes, and he glared at her so intensely. Why is it that she always repels the right men, while the other jerks always seem to be the ones she's attracted? "I don't care anymore! If you honestly think that I'm the kind of jerk that will use you—the kinds of jerks you seem to be prone to—then maybe we shouldn't be together! After all, I am only looking out for your best interest! See you later!"

Before she could even say anything, he was running off towards the street, and she almost fell to her knees on the sidewalk, paralyzed, and disbelief filling her entire being. She couldn't believe she was so stupid. She had just chased off the one man that hadn't used, abused, or degraded her in any way. She had chased him off. If there was a God out there, he took great pleasure and entertainment in her misery, in her sorrow. She hadn't realized it at the moment, but as she remained there, unable to move, waterfalls were streaming from her face, and they burned her skin fiercely, blinding her silver eyes, and in her mind, she was screaming out of agony.

I SHOULD DIE! NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME! I'M ALWAYS GOING TO BE ALONE! SOMEONE, PLEASE, KILL ME!

-Liz Comic-

Liz: Hey! I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update! I've been really busy, and then add to it, I haven't been really motivated to finish this story. I think it's because of my stupid habit of starting a story, then getting the idea for another, and not going back to finish the first one. I'm really sorry.

Crys: That's not true. She's just lazy!

Liz: SHUT UP!

Crys: Admit it! It's because of that stupid writer's block! That's why you don't have anything done for student convention!

Liz: Not true! I do have things done!

Crys: Short Story?

Liz: Done! Sent that in two months ago.

Crys: Poem?

Liz: Done! Sent that in, too.

Crys: Essay?

Liz: Same.

Crys: Pictures?

Liz: Developed and framed.

Crys: Dramatic Monologue?

Liz:opens mouth, then closes it:

Crys: What was that?

Liz: Nothing.

Crys: You don't have it done, do you?

Liz: Yeah, I'm just...trying to figure out what to base it on.

Crys: You don't have it done.

Liz: SHUT UP! Can you blame me? My muse just up and vanished, now nothing inspires me anymore.

Crys: Why not take a monologue from this story?

Liz: The rules won't let me. Has to be...:rummages through a box full of papers, then pulls out "DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE RULES AND GUIDELINES":...Ah, here we go.

Crys: What does it say?

Liz:in old lady voice: "Must have a theme of spiritual, inspirational, biblical, historical, or of a Christian influence." They basically say the same thing five times over.

Crys: Oh.

Liz: Yep! So I can't do a monologue on MISS ALLISON BAKER!

Crys: That sucks...Well, you could do one on me.

Liz: Yeah, and what am I supposed to say? "MY SISTER IS A FREAKIN' SLUT, AND I THINK WHAT MAKES IT SO MUCH WORSE IS THE FACT SHE DROPPED OUT OF COLLEGE TO PURSUE A BOYFRIEND THAT DUMPED HER A MONTH LATER?" Yeah, I'm sure that'll win me the award.

Crys:tearry eyed and starts to cry:

Liz: Oh no...I'm so cruel...

Alli 0.0: Well, as you can see, even writers can't seem to say the right thing around certain people. Liz promises to have the next chapter up real soon, preferably before the week is out. If she doesn't, she does promise to get one up soon.

Summary of Next Chapter (Title: "Never Too Late"):

Could this be the end of Alli and Criss? They barely even had begun! What kind of secret is Alli hiding from him? And how does it involve Sophia? Basically, a typical soap-opera kind of summary, but you get the idea.

Liz: Oh, by the way, I'm working on some art work for this story. I haven't posted any up just yet, but I will, and when I do, I'll let you know. I can't draw Criss Angel, but the guy in those drawings will be an original character when this story is revised. Peace!