Chapter 3. New Home
Uno and Mr. Meyer agreed to meet at a later date to settle the paper works. I could barely listen to their conversation. My thoughts were elsewhere, particularly to my mom. I always knew I was adopted. Though I've forgotten my life in the adoption home, I've accepted that my biological parents didn't want me. That was why I was grateful to mom for giving me a good life.
I thought I knew her. I thought she was a person I could trust. Why then did she have to give away everything we owned to charity, leaving me with nothing but the clothes on my back? It wasn't fair. She gave me everything, only to take it away with her death. I took a deep, shaky breath as Uno and I went out of the attorney's office.
"By the way, Strawberries." There was that name again. She halted. "Here."
I hurried to my feet to catch the sunglasses she tossed. "What's this for?"
She faced forward. "To trim your nails with." I ignored her sarcasm. Uno has changed since we last met at the cemetery, and it didn't stop with her attitude. It was noticeable in the way she moved too. If she used to stroll before, she walked briskly now without waiting for me. I had to hasten my steps to keep up with her.
"We just passed the elevators," I said, nudging my chin to the right though I knew she wasn't looking. "Are we taking the stairs?"
She didn't speak until we were in front of the fire exit. She yanked the door open and motioned to the circular metal stairs. "Go ahead." I gulped when I looked down at the narrow steps. We were in the fifteenth floor of the building. A long way from the ground. "Don't make me repeat myself," she said in a warning tone. "Remember our agreement."
Making sure not to look at the ground, I took one uncertain step after another downwards. My knuckles were white as a sheet as I held tightly to the railings. The engineers or whoever put it here shouldn't have made the fire exit stairs too narrow. And why pray tell were we going this way? I stopped abruptly. "The staircase is missing a few steps. We can't continue."
"I'll take care of that," Uno said. She pushed me hard. I swallowed my heart as I fell. My screams were cut short as I landed on the open dumpster below. My heart was still racing uncontrollably when Uno jumped after me. She landed with grace, like she was on the set of an action film. "Well that was disappointing," she muttered under her breath.
I removed a banana peel from my head and threw it to her. "I could have died! What's wrong with you?!"
Uno hoisted herself from the dumpster, unaffected by my heavy breathing and glaring. "Sue me," she said. She didn't even help me up. What happened to the Uno who took care of me days ago? Was that all an act? After wiping away the sticky thing on my arm, I followed her grudgingly out of the stinky dumpster.
When were into the back alley of the building, she pointed to fifty feet from us where a beat-up black van was sitting idly. "Whose van is that?" I asked suspiciously, staring at the chipping paint and aging tire.
"Mine. Now hurry up Strawberries, we don't want them to catch us. They knew I'd be coming here. They always do." We jogged to the van's direction.
"Where's the black Hummer? We used that the other day didn't we?"
"Stop this nonsense," she snapped. "I've never seen you in my life before this, except for a picture that Manager owned." My head threatened to explode. She was keen on denying what I knew to be true. What should I think of this? We were a stone's throw away from the van when they showed up, folks with cameras and digital recorders, shouting Uno's name. So that was what she was talking about when she said the word them. They were on either side of the back alley, a group comprising of ten people or more. I wasn't in the position to count.
We soon reached the van. Uno took a Mickey Mouse keychain from her pocket and started trying the keys one by one. Though she was cool and collected, there was a rising panic in my chest that I've never felt before. "Suppose these people reach us?" I said. "They'll just take your picture and go right?"
"If that's what you think of the paparazzi, then you're living in a made up world." She fumbled for the keys. How many keys were there? She was taking too long. The urgency of the situation rubbed off on me. Though I didn't know what was too happen, I felt that it wouldn't be good. We had to get out of there. A click sounded, followed by a triumphant "aha" from her. "Get in and open the driver side for me," she instructed.
She was barely able to start the engine when they reached us. They slammed their hands on the windows, as if it would grant them access to the van. Uno pressed her foot on the gas and sped out of there before it was too late. We survived. Mortality, zero. Traumatized, one- me. I never thought I'd have to escape from the paparazzi in my life.
When we were cruising on the main road, I felt safe enough to speak. "Good thing that didn't happen back in the cemetery. That would be too much too soon." The car screeched to a halt. "Why did you stop?" I asked quizzically.
"Engine problem if the police asks." She shifted to face me. Uno was gripping the wheel tightly but was trying to hide her irritation under a mask of straight face. "Listen, I've said it before and I'll say it for the last time. I have never met you before this. Never. You're starting to get on my nerves."
I pursed my lips. She was getting on mine too. I was close to slapping some sense to her. At the last second, I remembered that the paper works for guardianship wasn't ironed out, and I could still end up in the foster home if she got pissed. I nodded numbly and stared out the window. God, why was this happening to me? She restarted the car.
Minutes into the ride, my best friend popped in my head. He must be wondering what happened to me. I glanced reluctantly at Uno. Her back was straight, her shoulders stiff. She could still be irritated. Never mind. I'd ask her what the general setup would be when she wasn't on her period or something. I'd go with what she wanted for now.
We traveled on the main road for a while. I didn't check the time though I had a nice wristwatch on. Mom gave it to me. She was particular about those things. Riri, never keep anyone waiting, she'd say. If you want to succeed on your goals, you have to be mindful of every little detail. I sighed. All those guidelines and in the end, I didn't understand her after all. What was she thinking?
We entered an unfamiliar path. From the lively and bustling city, we've managed to reach a nice, quiet suburban area. That was the only way to describe it. Most of the houses were huge and gated. Private properties owned by the rich. I was tempted to ask Uno where we were going, but I kept mum while she drove. It wasn't worth the trouble, and besides, she'd tell me sooner or later.
The van stopped in front of a huge, intimidating gate made of iron and wood. There were tall shrubs on either side to keep intruders out. Uno rolled her window down and poked her head out. A beep sounded from somewhere, followed by the groan of the gate as it opened. "Facial recognition system," she said to answer my unspoken question. "Nobody goes in or out without my permission." She moved the van forward, into the vast property.
"What if someone sneaks in? A curious fan."
"He'll die," she answered in a clipped tone. "And nobody knows the location of my house."
"Except for me," I pointed out.
"Something you'll regret later," she mumbled to herself. If I didn't know that we were heading to her home, I would have thought that we were going to the forest with the number of trees scattered around us. We followed a single path in the middle. The time spent from the gate to the main house was more than ten minutes.
Her house was strange yet beautiful. It was an artistic mixture of glass and stone. Breakable and unbreakable. "Do you live here alone?" I asked as we departed the car. Mom was not keen on talking about her talent. Most of the things I knew about Uno came from interviews and online stories like most people. Though I did hear that she was single and was a much desired bachelorette. The thought of her leaning near me when we were in the restaurant crossed my mind. When she said that she was gay, was that true? Or was it as fake as her stellar acting of being a good person, cause she clearly wasn't. I didn't know anymore.
"Regarding your question, I'm more than enough to keep myself company." She went through the front door. It was awkward standing there by myself, so I was right behind her. "There's no second floor," she said when we reached the living room. "Too dangerous."
I had no idea what she meant by that, but I stared around with wide eyes. The ceiling was high. It gave an airy feel when combined with the glass walls. An elegant crystal chandelier was placed there. It matched the sophistication of the cream sofa and expensive furniture's. There was no television. In my house and Carters house, it was the main attraction. "There's a TV in each room," she said like she was reading my mind.
"What if we want to watch a movie together?"
"That won't happen." She left me standing there. Okay, watching something with a movie star was a long shot. She didn't have to rub it in.
We went to the kitchen next. It was all marbles, stone, and glass. Any chef or person who loved to cook would think they died and went to heaven here.
"You will cook for me from now on," Uno said, leaning against the doorframe. "The food has to be prepared by exactly seven in the morning, sharp. Any later and we'll have problems. I don't function well without food." I could deal with that. How hard could it be to cook for both of us? "You can go grocery shopping once or twice a month," she continued. "We have a large enough pantry at the back to store everything. There's no maid. You have to—"
"Wait, wait, wait," I said, raising a hand. "No maid? How large is this property again?"
"A few thousand square feet. Maybe a hectare or so." She shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.
"The house looks too big for one person to clean." I didn't want to come across as whiny, but I couldn't help myself. At least two people were needed for that job.
"There's a robot vacuum cleaner. It's automatic."
"What about laundry? You expect me to do all of that too? I bet you wear lots of clothes." Lots of black clothes from what I noticed. Uno was notorious for wearing that shade. That was what the fashion insider magazines said. Not that I followed her styles religiously.
She sounded bored when she said, "The washer is also automatic."
"And your underwear?"
Her eyes gleamed. She moved from the doorframe to the wall where I was leaning against. Uno placed her hands on either side of my head, pinning me in the middle. Our brief time in the restaurant came to mind. My face flushed. Why must I think of that now of all times? "My, my," she whispered. "We barely know each other, and you're already asking about my underwear. What else do you want to know?" Her scent made me lightheaded. She was too close.
I avoided her eyes. "Nothing you don't want to tell."
Uno looked pleased when she backed up. "Glad we're on the same page Strawberries. If there's one thing that you have to follow under my roof, it's that you should mind your own business. That will be all from now. I'll show you to your room." I was a servant and she was a tyrant. Those were the simplest terms to my situation, I decided bitterly as I lagged behind her.
Uno opened a room at the end of the corridor. "This is where you will stay from now on," she said, gesturing inside. "Do what you want. I don't care." She held a finger up. "Just don't tell other people about this location, or else."
"Can I invite my friend over sometime? He's good at keeping secrets." Carter would love to see inside a celebrity's house.
Her eyebrow twitched. "I don't like having guests over. Meet-up with your boyfriend outside."
"I don't have one. A boyfriend I mean."
"And I don't care. The sooner you understand that, the better." She left me quickly without uttering another word.
I shut the door with a heavy heart and turned to the room. Wow. The designer made it like the rest of the house, with stone and glass as the main theme. Most of the walls were built with dark stones, with the exception of the other side of the room. The other end featured a floor to ceiling glass, giving me a good view of the trees outside. It was like a one-storey castle in the middle of an oversized garden. Except I wasn't a princess, and Uno was more like the beast.
In the middle of the room was a circular bed that was elevated with wood. The usual were present, desk, chair, TV, and a big bathroom. Functional as it was, there were still a couple things missing- my books back home, the movies that I've collected over the years, and most importantly, mom. Everything was brand new here. It would be hard to cope. But when I thought more about it, it wasn't so bad right? I was going to live in a huge house and a beautiful room. Things could be worse.
Later that night, I woke up from loud laughter coming from somewhere in the house. I squinted at my watch. Almost midnight. My stomach rumbled. Gosh, I've skipped dinner due to exhaustion again. The laughter sounded, pulling my thoughts away from hunger. Was Uno having someone over? I stood from the bed and stretched.
She must be fuming mad if that was the case. She'd expect me to pull my weight. I left the room in a hurry and went through the familiar lighted hallway. Like my room, one side of the corridor was made of glass. I could already feel that it was a good environment to draw my designs. But enough about that for now.
As I drew nearer to the living room, the laughter turned to howling. Someone was singing, if you could call it that. In the middle of the night. Who was making that racket? I stopped on my tracks and stared. Was I seeing this correctly? "U-Uno? What are you doing up there?" I asked. My mouth opened.
She was high on the ceiling, grasping the chandelier for dear life. She burst into laughter when she saw me, not an ounce of fear on her face. "Oh hello Riri. How's it going?" She was about to say more. Uno wasn't given the chance to continue as a cracking sound echoed across the room and the chandelier came crashing down, taking her with it.
Chapter 4. DenialsIt was just like a movie. Uno, the dashing heroine from the story, was bravely holding on to the chandelier when its cords snapped. I could do nothing but watch as her laughter turned to screaming. Like all movies, however, the protagonist couldn't die. The fans would get mad. The audience would get sad. Such was the faith of Uno as she fell on the oversized cream sofa instead of the floor.
Chapter 5. BlazeLike the past few weeks, sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford. I've slept for maybe three hours, and that was it. Things kept piling. Mom's death, moving houses, living under a celebrity's roof, Uno's weirdness, and lately, the hidden door in her bedroom. It was enough to make me sit on my bed in the wee hours of the morning, a nagging headache on my temple.
Chapter 6. AssumptionsAt one point in their lives, people have kept secrets. I remember when Carter attempted his first lock picking. He'd done it countless times on dummy locks, but it was his first real attempt to break into someone's secret compartment, which turned out to be his sister's drawer in the closet. I wasn't there to witness it. He told me later that the closet was half-filled with homemade porn stash. He regretted knowing
Chapter 7. ChanceTo what extent did religious practices require a person to seclude herself from the rest of the world? As far as I could tell, Uno hasn't resurfaced in the land of the living for weeks. Her lockdown was still in effect. I was worried, and I wasn't the type to worry. She did eat. The tray that I continuously placed in front of her room was clean whenever I returned to retrieve it. Yet I was still worried.
Chapter 8. PretenseIt wasn't everyday that I got to save someone famous. It wasn't everyday that she asked me out for dinner. Uno didn't really count, did she? I've sort of known her all my life because of mom. As Carter said, it was like having an honorary sister. Bianca in the meantime was a stranger to me. It was surreal to have her by my side.
Chapter 9. CrackUno would look at me from time to time while we were eating breakfast. I ignored her for the most part, remembering how she teased me about eating like a horse on our very first meeting after mom's funeral. There were many things I wished to ask her. If I were to play my game, I could say that so far, she'd make the habit of either deflecting my questions, or resorting to irrationa
Chapter 10. Seeing DoubleUno was eerily silent on our way home. With pursed lips and a faraway gaze, I had to leave her alone. When I pressed her parents for more information about her "sickness," all they said was something was different with Uno. Maybe they feared that it was caused by being on the spotlight all the time.
Chapter 11. Ice BreakerDoctor Sanders and I talked until it was time for her to go home, around early morning. She told me interesting facts about Blaze's condition. The identities had different names, personalities, and even self-image. When one was present, for lack of better terms, the other was sleeping. Because of the psychotherapy, Blaze and Uno knew about each other's existence, though they didn't necessarily agree about the other
Chapter 20. SnoopThe original goal of treatment for DID was integration- making the separated personalities into one. However, if that wasn't possible, a harmonious coexistence between Uno and Blaze would be more than enough. Neither integration nor coexistence would occur if she wouldn't be able to come to terms with her traumatic experience. At present, we had zero clue with what happened to her past to make her this way.
Chapter 19. FeelingsI entered the room to find an unconscious person on the floor and another girl near her. If this was a crime scene, Blaze would be suspect number one. I kneeled beside Bianca to check if she was still breathing. Though it was shallow and strained, she was alive and well. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Chapter 18. SabotageIt was funny how a couple of words can turn hundreds of screaming people to silence."I'm madly in love with someone."That was all it took to hush everyone who were participating and watching the show. But if a person begged to differ, it was me and my heart. It was racing uncontrollably against my chest, ready to burst like an overinflated balloon. Though Blaze has glanced away,
Chapter 17. ConfessionBlaze was an artist, but to me she was also an art. As with all art, she was a series of complexities. She evoked my emotions. It was with her that I wanted to lose myself in. It was with her that I've never been more scared not to be found. She was her and yet she wasn't. She was art, and she was perfectly imperfect.
Chapter 16. DeeperOne of my first memories was of mom. It wasn't the day of adoption. I was too young to recall that. Rather, it was her telling me about my adoption. As a young girl, I remembered standing in front of a clothes store, staring at a lovely red dress that was my size. We went in and bought the dress. Then she told me I was adopted.
Chapter 15. Green EyedIt would have been nice to stay with Uno like that for a little while longer. To have our body pressed into one another. However, the elevator had other ideas. The lights eventually flickered open. Either the generator of the building was activated, or power has returned. I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes with the glare. Coming from a pitch dark elevator, it was peculiar to suddenly see again.
Chapter 14. FallingUno had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Once her identity came out, all traces of Blaze were gone. I was missing Blaze, but I was also curious with Uno. Maybe she was trying hard to look stubborn and inpatient in front of me when in fact she was the opposite. Or maybe it was just me expecting more from her when I shouldn't.
Chapter 13. UnoDoctor Sanders told me from our last meeting that dealing with patients who suffered from dissociative identity disorder, or DID, was going to be tricky. I'd never know which identity would come forth, which was why I shouldn't stress myself regarding the changes. In our case, Blaze was always the one who would greet me early in the morning.
Chapter 12. DeeperIt has been a week after I've discovered about Blaze and Uno's separate identities. During those days, Uno hasn't shown herself yet. I was more than happy to keep it that way. I didn't want to play any favorites, but I wasn't sure how to deal with Uno's crabbiness. I might say or do something to upset her. Not having her around was best for now.