Blood & Roses

Escapism.

Song: Escapism; Raye feat. 070

Chloè felt defeated when she got Dorian's voicemail a third time. Her body sank deep into the cushions of her gray sofa along with her chest. The couch stretched out into an L-shape, partly framing a black coffee table with a couple adjacent chairs at the end. With her penthouse situated on the uppermost floors, the arrangement of furniture offered a view directly out the glass wall windows. While the cityscape sprawled far outward, much was obscured by the surrounding buildings that resolved to reach high into the blue heavens.

Her mind raced rapidly with a hundred thoughts of what could have happened to Dorian, her nerves buzzing at an equal speed with no calm in sight. Not answering wasn't unusual for the man, as he would always respond a few hours later. What was unusual, however, was leaving Chloè's messages on a "read" status. It brought forth a gurgling knot in her stomach.

Buried in soft cushions, Chloè lazily began to thumb through her phone and brought up a text conversation from earlier in the day. It was an exchange with a friend named Madeline, who in the morning asked if she would be willing to meet for lunch. At the time, Chloè had given her a grim "I'll see how I feel" and left it at that. Madeline was one of those fair weather friends who didn't care about Chloè; She would only talk about her life, her interests, her accompaniments, scandals she had heard, and other meaningless bullshit. She only cared that Chloè was well-known in mutual social circles and that her family name carried the scent of money.

Yet Elias was away; Angela and Kephri were working, and Dorian wasn't responding. Chloè didn't want to be alone again, so she whispered "It'll do," to herself and sent a text confirming her availability.

Time spent with the red-headed Madeline was hardly different than their previous encounters. Only the setting had changed, this time a modern and upscale restaurant. Chloè sat silent as she listened to the other's self-absorbed rambling, talking about the hottest gossip between individuals she can't remember or will never meet, the net worth of her husband, and how fascinating her life is. When Chloè did try to speak up, it was quickly spun back around to be about Madeline.

After the two finished their meals, Chloè was invited back for coffee and cigarettes. Something she reluctantly agreed to so she could avoid being alone for another hour or so.

Madeline had a penthouse of her own and it was as large as Chloè's, although Madeline insisted hers was bigger, a disgusting metaphor that had the ballerina scrunch her face. The decor of the house was some indecisive void between maximalism and minimalism; Not some clever mix of the two but someone's inability to commit. Then pushing it out as their unique aesthetic .

It was abysmal.

The two were outside lounging on their own chaise with a small and circular wicker table to rest their coffee. Chloè took a long puff of her cigarette while looking at her phone. Madeline's words were present, if slightly muddled.

"We found a few properties in Newark that we are considering buying. To rent, of course. Last Saturday we drove there to check them out. Big building, several units, perfect for passive income. He even thought about letting me manage them." Madeline spoke in a string of words, refusing to breathe between a single sentence.

"But do you have experience in property management, Mad?" Chloè inquired with feigned interest still glued to her phone.

"No. But how hard could it be? I've been watching Tiktok!"