Musesoftheminds

until next time,

muse

EUPHORIA

He stares at the silver beam, this issue was taking longer than he expected. It’s nothing too upsetting for a man like him. You would think he would be enraged, that he would go out shooting and killing people who anger him. Oddly though, he’s cool. Always composed. It’s that calming demeanor that unnerves his enemies and why his acquaintances remain close to him.

Growing up his father was the Senator of California and life was like ‘90210’ fake breast, fake relationships, a fake life. But one thing that was real was the money. The accessories. The thirty thousand dollar handbag that was worn only once for thirty minutes, the luxury cars that everyone rented but never owned. Life was a dream for a king in the making like Fitz. Because that was the goal, not that he ever dreamed or had a desire outside of what his father told him to be. But Fitz was the closest thing to American royalty, that was until his mother left him when she grew tired of his father cheating. And life as he knew it was over. The picture-perfect image came crashing down as quickly as it was built. His father was forced to not run for president and seek only one term as senator. one to never be defeated his father invested in his son.

The younger, faster, and more handsome he has a chance to be someone. Fitz, could change their past and alter their future in his favor. It also didn’t help that his father was financially beholden to the Russian empire, forcing his son to also be beholden to the dictatorship. While his friends would run off to Mexico or travel to Paris, Fitz was forced to embark on monthly trips to Russia where he fought and crawled to be the best.

He is who he is, despite his parents not because of them. Life was hard for Fitz, but he knew no different he thought everyone grew up this way.

He remembers his first trip to Russia, he was ten. He was accompanied by several large men that never spoke to him but they guarded him and Fitz began to appreciate the silence. His father never escorted him nor did he call to see if he was alive or dead. It made no difference to Fitz, his father taught him the value of one. He cried silent tears when he saw the prime minister and the Russian president, Adrik they laughed at him, mocked him in English so he could hear how worthless he was to them. Enraged for the first time in his life, he hugged his bodyguard as he grabbed his gun and pointed at the two men who laughed at his pain. He remembers that day vividly, he cursed at them, damning them to a life they would soon be inhabiting. As he pointed the gun at them several men had guns pointed at him.

No one would win in this situation, but Fitz knew he had the upper hand. His life at the tender age of ten was nothing to stay alive for but their lives mattered, and now so did he.

Excited by the young cub, Adrik walked over to Fitz, not fearing his life, and embraced the boy in ways no one else did. It was there Fitz was truly born and found a home in another world. The young boy had the heart and courage to stand in front of him and deal with the consequences in ways grown men could never. Adrik doted on the young American prince he calls Lev which stands for lion in Russian. What Adrik saw in the young boy was more than anyone else saw in him. He saw the endless future and possibility with him, yes Jerry wanted Fitz for his reasons, even Fitz’s mother fought for custody of her only child, but she too was no match for Adrik. Adrik took care of Fitz’s mother when he returned home that summer, she was met with an unfortunate accident caused by a drunk driver. To some killing Fitz’s mother was cruel but to Adrik it was just. He could not afford to allow his Lev, his son to be infected by the American ideology or worse betray him for them. Jerry, gave Fitz to him, to pay off his debt that grew outrageously during his campaign. Money in which Adrik sponsored. Jerry didn’t offer his son but Adrik requested him. With some fight to make it seem as though he cared, Jerry agreed to the terms, and Fitz was sent to Russia but always returned home before school.

When Fitz returned home, he came with a Russian accent and a scar on his left eyebrow. When Fitz left he was a boy, his son, but when he returned he was colder, darker, they existed only as roommates, and when the camera was on as a father and son coping with the loss of their mother and wife. But behind closed doors Whenever Jerry threatened or tried to discipline Fitz, Fitz would remind Jerry that he cannot touch him and that he was in no way his father but simply his sperm donor.

His father was Adrik.

It was at that moment, that Jerry knew his son was gone forever.

Fitz flicks his black matte lighter and takes a large puff of his Cuban cigar. He admires the moon for all its beauty and glory. It’s nighttime here but in Russia, the sun was rising and there’s nothing like a sunrise in Moscow. He looks at his Richard Mille watch, and wonders if Olivia is waiting for him.

He’s not sure what enticed him. Why he’s so bewitched by her presence. He’s typically dated white girls, and occasionally Latin women. But Olivia. She’s like an ocean to him, enchanting him to step inside her warm crevice and be swayed by her rhythmic motions. Like Holy water, he is baptized and reborn, swimming in her current he finds himself searching for her in the vast depth of her soul. Determined to find her even if she wishes to conceal her identity as much as he does.

He looks through his security footage as his men do the talking, she spins around the pole, dancing as though no one was watching her, and for the first time in his life he regrets his job. He had Olivia, and within an hour he had to leave her.

She’s hiding from him, concealing some part of her identity, it’s this unknown variable that intrigues him even more. She’s a puzzle and he’s always loved a good puzzle.

He remembers the first time he saw her, her pink gumdrop hair contrasting against her caramel skin. How her eyes twinkled with little specks of stardust as she looked at him.

He still has her underwear. It’s the simple treasure that Fitz cherishes, the small token he has of her.

There he was jumping into the deep abyss, throwing caution to the wind as he swims in her current. He found something with her; something tangible he has yet to experience before. She made him laugh, whether that was intentional or not he was completely mystified by her.

He wrote a check for her, and she gave his name. Like any reasonable Russian spy, he searched through her history with his software and found her life on a piece of paper. The schools she attended from kindergarten to college, to her first job. She hasn’t had luck in life or love, he’s not exactly sure why but he would assume it was connected to her family. Her parents died in a car accident when she was thirteen leaving her orphaned like himself in many ways. Their beloved parent having the same fate eased him, as though she was somehow created from the same chaos as him.

It was this shared and unknown bond that propelled Fitz to know everything he can about her. To her favorite shirt, she likes to wear, to her favorite food. The desire unnerved him, so much that he stayed away from the Manor to protect his sanity but that proved even more fragile than he thought.

He watched her at the club every night, watched as the crowd parted for her like the Red Sea as she moved through them effortlessly. Everyone who frequents his club knew she was off-limits, he reiterated that command to his manager Cyrus. Warning him of what would come to him and anyone if they so much as looked in her direction.

Cyrus is trustworthy. But more than that Cyrus is smart, he watched Olivia like a hawk. When a brazen customer attempted to talk to her, the guards would magically appear and block the interaction.

It wasn’t long after their first encounter that he started fantasizing about her in every way and the ways he’s never dreamed. Olivia Price had bewitched him.

Olivia summoned him, demanded that he come to her. He ignored her request every time until the night she decided to outsmart everyone at the club and dance for all eyes who dared to look at her.

Fitz is a calm guy. Slow to react, until he met Olivia that is. Enraged, he swarmed the club to find her talking to an NBA player who ended up having a broken hand that ruined his season. How exactly that accident happened, he won’t say but we can all assume who ordered the warning.

He beelined for Olivia that night, watching as she talked to Jake. The complete rage he felt at the encounter unnerved him, for so long he’s been apathetic that now he’s trying to decipher what it means to feel. And Olivia. She knows what she is doing.

She loves watching him make a scene. She likes that she can control his emotions and she does.

He unknowingly smiled when she did. Glare when she glared. His reaction mirrors hers.

There it was. The stardust in her eyes, she looked even more beautiful than the first time he saw her and far better than what a phone can do justice. She yelled at him, taunted him. And worse she talked to his closest advisor; to make him jealous and it worked. Jake is as infatuated with Olivia as he is, perhaps even more.

She defends Jake and all that does is enrage him more. Never one to share, He commands Olivia to go to their room, and he closes the door to their world so no one could enter. While Olivia may have given him a dance she gave him something subtle, something festering underneath the surface. He can’t put his finger on it, but he wants more of it.

He wants more of her.

The issue with the cargo was dealt with and Fitz promptly returned home, only to find Olivia gone.

He won’t lie and say he wasn’t disappointed. That he was angry he left her when she offered to come along. The truth is that Fitz doesn’t trust himself with Olivia, and doesn’t trust those he’s affiliated with to be around her either. He tried to protect her from his world. But it appeared it worked all too well.

He searches through his footage, looks through his computers to find everything immaculate as he left it. So why did she leave?

He goes to the Manor the following day. He makes small talk with the locals, some of the girls come up to him flirt with him some even offer their services but he respectfully declines. He decides to wait for her in their room, not wanting to talk or pretend. He sits and nurses his scotch as he waits patiently for her to appear, only she never does.

Cyrus begins having chest pain as Fitz has him pinned up against the wall. Cyrus promised, Olivia, promised that she was there but he was just lying to save his ass which inflamed Fitz even more.

“Where is she?” He seethes

“I…I…I don’t know okay?” Cyrus answers “she said she was sick.”

“What is she sick with?”

“She…she…she didn’t say.” Cyrus stutters as he grabs his chest.

“Stop it, Cyrus, you aren’t having a heart attack.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

Immediately Cyrus removes his hand from his chest as he looks up at the bogeyman. He warned Olivia to leave him alone, but she is a girl who likes trouble and she hasn’t had enough of it.

“Call Olivia,” he demands

“I tried several times. She’s not picking up.”

Fitz walks away from Cyrus, he has his security detail track Jake’s whereabouts. He waits with bated breath for confirmation that Jake is with Olivia, but his security disclosed that Jake was at home, and looking to be getting dressed for a night out.

“What do you want me to do, do you want me to fire Olivia.”

“No.” Fitz stares at Cyrus “she will always have a job at The Manor. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“What if she isn’t here?”

“Then make sure she is.”

Fitz walks away.

/

Fitz returns the next day, and he repeated the same scenario as yesterday, and similar to yesterday he left without Olivia.

Fitz repeats this cycle for the entire week, he sits patiently for her, waiting for her return that never happens. He sips his drink, but this time he decides to sit out in the open with everyone else; he grew tired of the boredom and silence. His anger dissipated with her absences.

Until Fitz saw her.

Her porcelain white skin shimmers under the fluorescent lights. Her emerald green bejeweled thong glitters, complementing her red hair. This woman is his type. This is who he should want, what he’s always wanted.

But he remembers her. He remembers Olivia walking out with her, how Olivia always left with her. This wasn’t her coworker, this was her friend.

Which means she knows where Olivia is.

He finds her in the changing room, getting ready to leave for the night.

“Hello.”

She jumps at the intrusion, unnerved by him finding her. Is this what Olivia felt when she was around him? He’s frightening, to say the least.

“I’m not coming home with you.” She turns him away, trying to remain strong and not let him smell the fear on her breath.

“That’s good because I don’t want you.” Fitz moves to stand directly behind Abby, his looming figure intimidating her.

“What do you want?”

“I want Olivia.”

Immediately her eyes flicker and she breaks eye contact, she’s hiding something from him. She’s hiding Olivia.

“She’s sick.” Abby offers a lame excuse but they both know that’s a lie.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want her. Where is she?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I do.” Fitz looks down at Abby “where is she? Don’t lie to me.” He warns

Abby can feel her heart beating out of her chest, she told Olivia messing with Fitz was bad business and now she is stuck in between their web. Abby warned Olivia that this would happen, but Olivia thought differently. That’s the thing with her, she’s aware of her effect on men yet she remains clueless with the one particular man.

“I don’t know where she’s at…she’s not returning my calls.”

“Your lying.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want you. Maybe you scared her.”

It was as if she threw a cold glass of water on him. He walks out of the changing room as though nothing happened.

It’s storming outside. It’s something about the rain that soothes him. He can’t explain why but it calms him. He can hear the storm from inside, and it wasn’t letting up.

The door burst open with vigor and anger.

“Hi.”

She stares at him, shocked yet moved by the gesture.

“Hi.” She whispers back.

She’s confused by his presence at her home. She wants to start yelling at him, she wants to close the door on him and pretend they never happened. But then she looks at him for a few seconds.

He’s the same. But he’s different somehow. He seems softer.

She bites her lip as she contemplates which road to take. She already has enough information on him, yet she wants more.

Against her better judgment, she opens her door. Silently inviting him inside her world. Without a second he walks inside and closes the door behind.