velvet paradise (ftm x fem)

Track 31

JAIRE

Propped against my Mercedes-Benz coupe, I steal a moment to observe the sky, painted in a yellowish celestial hue. Eyelids shut, I pause to savor the gentle breeze caressing my beard and listen to the melodic waves of the ocean. An image of the last instance I saw Laken, while healthy, surfaces in my brain.

We were in my renovated bedroom. Though my space had a fresh, boyish charm, a girly pop song blasted from Serenity's room and surfed through the walls. My friend laughed at my sister's off-key singing, his lit face adorned with freckled constellations. He flicked his mid-length ginger locks out of his eyes, appearing as a rockstar on the horizon. We always entertained the idea of making an alternative rock band one day, but as I strummed my guitar, he said, "Dude, I can't wait until you make it."

I dismissed him, humbly chuckling, the cracks from my hormone therapy echoing in my throat. Scratching my peach fuzz, I told Laken how my mom might finally accept my identity, but not being a physician isn't an option.

He blew his lips at me as if my thought of attending medical school was absurd. "No, bro, you're too creative to be a doctor, man. Stardom is calling your name. And when you answer, you'll take me with you." He nodded smoothly as he smirked, preferring his plans for my career over my mom's.

Amusing him, I said, "Sure, (trans)form will be the best band since Nirvana."

Laken leaned back on his scarred arms, tossing me a wistful smile. "Maybe in another life."

I removed my fingers from the bronze strings. My youthful grin transformed into a perplexed grimace. Without my smooth acoustics, Katy Perry took center stage in Serenity's room, singing about a teenage dream. "No, in this lifetime," I told him. Applying utmost caution, I glanced at his skin, scanning for any signs of recent wounds. Nothing.

"We'll see," Laken said in his false, hopeful voice. He used it anytime he didn't wish to stress me out. "If you become a superstar without me, don't forget me or yourself. Stay true to you, J. Promise?"

Though I promised him, I pushed his shoulder, knocking him from his sentimental stupor. That was the final time we had an iconic wrestling match. He broke my heart with Sweet Chin Music, a super kick performed by his favorite wrestler, Shawn Michaels. Before he departed, he proved his strength, which still lives inside me.

Heels echo against the smooth stone of the driveway. Hastily swiping at my eyes, I remind myself to exhibit self-control tonight while remaining genuine. I can't promise I'll forgive Dru. The outcome is entirely contingent on his honesty and a proper apology.

I open the passenger door and shift my gaze toward the flawless woman. A beige cashmere midi dress sculpts her frame. It's her dazzling smile that raises my cheekbones. There's always an unmistakable, majestic aura surrounding Alaia, but it reigns upon her like never before. Twinkles dance in her deep brown irises, emblazoned with newfound energy. Her slim physique glides, introducing an emphasized lethal yet refined stride. My heart accelerates as she draws nearer as if meeting her for the first time again.

She runs her hand along the sleek, charcoal-metallic surface of the coupe. "Each time you drive me, there's a new car waiting," she teases, accompanied by an adorable snicker. Her tone reflects steadier and clearer, resonating with confidence. She often starts conversations at a volume level that is either too loud or too quiet. "Why are you staring at me?" she asks. An amused smirk plays at the corners of her mouth. She reaches toward my partially unbuttoned burgundy silk shirt, loosening a couple more buttons. Patting my chest, she comments, "Better. You look gorgeous, boubou."

I bite my lip, struggling to maintain my poise under her seductive gaze. "Do you ever grow tired of looking so stunning?"

After a cute giggle, she says, "No," then dips into the Benz. Her Dior perfume has a unique, more bewitching aroma as it mingles with her skin. What the hell is happening? If her allure continuously increases as we become better acquainted, it might be my undoing.