Patricia

In a the opulent realms of Manhattan's elite neighbourhoods, I survey the colossal room destined to house me for an indeterminate stretch. Its expanse rivals half my present apartment, steeped in the lingering scent of vanilla. Morning's golden radiance floods through a grand window and cascades over the mansion, visible from the balcony.

Elegance defines the space; refined taste breathes through textured art adorning cream-coloured walls amidst an ensemble of neutral tones dominating the room. A queen-sized bed, neatly dressed in a brown duvet with an assortment of neutral-hued pillows, commands the room's centre. A white bedframe donned with gold designs exudes sophistication, complemented by a resplendent gold chandelier above.

To my right, a thoughtfully arranged work table beckons with coloured pens and sketch pads. It's a gesture perhaps from the daughter, a sweet child whose favour I'm glad to have earned; her goodwill could ease my stay here.

At the far end, a brown armchair draped in white and a bookshelf showcasing genres aplenty invite cosy moments of literary escape or creative endeavours.

Unpacking in the capacious brown wardrobe, I meticulously arrange my belongings. The bathroom, a sanctuary of indulgence, boasts an array of washes on a pristine white sink, accompanied by fragrant roses and a lavender-scented candle. A gold-framed mirror oversees neatly arranged essentials, with a walk-in shower completing this lavish space.

As I settle on the bed, perusing the non-disclosure agreement, I think about my savings for fashion school. I am unsure about my total earnings for the weeks I’ll be here, but I know it's going directly towards my savings for fashion school. Hopefully, I don’t give in to Bryan’s antics.

Bryan's annoying antics blur my mind; our relationship is a tangled web of passion and conflict. Despite his silence, I send him a text to let him know I've arrived, a need for his presence heavy on my heart.

Just as I rise to seek Mr. Jordan and acquaint myself more with Rachel or Ray as she prefers, a soft knock serenades the door.

“Hi, sweetie . Come in,” I beckon. Ray’s cute little head peers in, and she gives me a small smile before walking in. I invite her over, and she dashes to the bed, both of us ensconced in comfort.

“Daddy said you needed settling time. Do you fancy your room?”

"Oh, the amenities are fantastic! But you know, Ray, I was secretly hoping for a trampoline by the bedside, you know, for morning acrobatics, or maybe a personal marshmallow dispenser for those midnight cravings," I jest, flashing a mischievous grin.

Ray, momentarily taking my jest seriously, looks at me with wide eyes, then bursts into a fit of giggles.

"You're so funny, Patty! I wish we could have those too!"

Our laughter fills the room, a delightful break from the sophistication around us, as Ray, with a newfound gleam in her eyes, adds, "Imagine bouncing on a trampoline first thing in the morning, or having marshmallows whenever we want! That would be epic!"

“It surely would !”

“I think I like you for my dad.”

My eyes widen in shock as I struggle for words at the unexpected revelation. "I... I ," I stammer, trying to find the right words to respond to the statement.

“Just kidding, he’s already married, to his work. You should have seen your face.”

“You got me there for a minute.”

“I was joking though. Daddy forbade painting your room pink; he believes neutrals suit it better. Do you agree or prefer pink?”

Chuckling at her infectious enthusiasm reflecting on the inherent link between girls and pink. "Neutral is just perfect."

“Why do grown-ups favour dull colours? Daddy’s room is pitch black. One day, I’ll sprinkle it with girlish hues. His reaction will be epic,” she giggles, and I join in, envisioning his astonishment.

“You shouldn’t stir that pot,” I caution in jest as she smiles.

“I know, I was only kidding.”

“You seem to have a good sense of humour.”

“Thanks. Your mom said we share the same favourite colour."

“Pink? That was a long time ago."

"Oh, do you like the books? Do you like the flowers in your bathroom? What about the pens and sketch pad?" she asks, inquiring about my preferences for the room's amenities. I assure her of their loveliness, adding a homely touch to the space.

“I was praying you'd love it all so you wouldn't want to leave,” she confesses, a radiant smile gracing her face. I chuckle softly.

"My dear, I will only be here temporarily until your dad gets a permanent replacement.”

“But I don’t want you or Mrs. Charity to go,” she murmurs, leaning in for a hug.

I hold her tenderly, not wanting to crush her dreams with empty promises.

“Patty, you smell divine. Can I call you Patty?” she chirps, brimming with cheer.

“Absolutely, Ray, and thank you very much. You also smell lovely.” I reply, earning a gleeful smile.

“Come, let’s explore the house before I show you my room,” she suggests, eager to share her world.

“Alright, lead the way.”

Bounding up, she takes my hand, guiding me through the house, sharing its wonders reminiscent of school field trip guides.

“Just before I show you to the garden and playground. Here is Daddy’s room,” she points, “and this is my room.”

Stepping into her sanctuary, a tranquil palette of pink envelops us, blending harmoniously in a symphony of hues. A room fit for a modern-day princess, adorned in varying shades of pink, each corner a cosy delight - a space my inner child yearns for, longing for such lavishness in my past.

“Your room is enchanting, Ray,” I compliment, wistfully recalling the simplicity of my own upbringing.

“Thank you; I’m thrilled you like it,” she beams joyfully.

“You’re most welcome.”

“It's snack time; let’s refuel before continuing our adventure,” she suggests, seizing my hand once more, eager for our next exploration.

As I venture forth with Ray, her innocent demeanour strikes a chord within me. She's a sweet child, brimming with genuine curiosity and a heartwarming eagerness to bond. Her playful laughter echoes through the room, igniting a warmth I seldom experience. Her bright eyes tell stories of wonder, innocence, and joy, taking me back to a simpler time when every moment promised adventure.

Observing her, I can't help but feel a pang of longing for the uncomplicated days of childhood. Ray's gentle presence creates a haven of some kind, a safe space where genuine connections thrive effortlessly. Her sincerity in wanting me to stay resonates deeply, tugging at my heartstrings and evoking a sense of responsibility to shield her from disappointment, even if it's beyond my control.

I find solace in her presence, a momentary respite from the challenges of adulthood, while she chuckles and shares her innocent views. Her love for life is contagious, reminding me of the beauty in simple pleasures, unending laughter, and pure innocence of my childhood.

Ray has a purity of heart that provides me peace, a reminder of the innocence we all once held, and the beauty that exists inside such untouched spirits. The exterior of the mansion unfolds like a great tapestry of opulence and sophistication as we tour it, each scene a tribute to luxury. Every corner and cranny reveals a treasure trove of luxury, evoking the grandeur of a fairytale abode, with Ray as my guide.