I rushed from one side of my studio to another, cleaning everything I could find and removing all my Post-its from the wall, listening to a rather steamy audiobook—one I couldn’t help but picture Spectre in.
I had built a very heavy file on him in the hope of satisfying my hatred in the shapes of lovely pink Post-its. I might as well write a crime novel now. Even though I was starting to wave the white flag, if there was anything my father had taught me by constantly messing up and being a liar all this time, it was to not trust my heart completely.
I stopped for a moment, trying to clarify the mayhem that was happening inside my head.
I had replied to my mom, made the payment for the bees, and hopefully restored my karma. I went on Luna’s Instagram account to spy on Ryan, who still had his profile set to private.
Now, I was waiting for Ajax to arrive at my apartment because this arrogant guy had wanted to pick me up for our “date.” The date for which the charity had just thanked me, where I would be delivering a fairy-tale lecture. Not that I was aware of it. It was a brand-new surprise, where I would not only have to tell stories to the kids but also perform as the fictional bookish version of me—if that made sense. I blamed Emma. She had probably told them I was a fairy-tale fanatic, and now they wanted us to play dress-up. She strongly denied this, but I knew it was her.
I eventually forwarded the message to Ajax, who messaged me back: “I’m not getting dressed up, but I can’t wait to see your costume.” And to that, I replied: “You better find something. I’m not doing this alone.”
“This is gonna be a nightmare.” I would either fall or make jokes no one laughed at or, worse, be unimaginative. And lately, I hadn’t been able to write anything that didn’t include the words “penis” and “orgasm,” which I doubted would be fitting for the context. My lease was ending soon, and just like Spectre, I too was going to move out and leave this part of my life. It was my last chance to fulfill my dream, and if that didn’t work, I’d stop crushing my soul again and again for good.
“Greaaat.” I kept on adjusting my outfit, which screamed, I didn’t bother to try seducing you, yet I spent one hour searching for the perfect ensemble to wear. Typical. It was the kind of outfit I’d regret. The one that makes you look good in the morning with a flat stomach, but after eating barely anything, here it goes again, bloating. “I need to change. I need to—”
My doorbell rang; it could only be him, half an hour early.
“Coming!” I screamed like a boiler that was about to explode.
I slammed the door open. Not to my surprise, Spectre was dressed up in a full black three-piece tailored suit with his pocket watch attached and his typical Italian loafers that screamed of money. It was an outfit that looked similar to the one he usually wore but perhaps a bit more morbid and fancy.
“You were supposed to find something fairy-taleish.”
“I’m the grumpy villain,” he stated simply, entering my place without waiting for an invitation.
I made an overdramatic hand gesture that meant please, come on in. “You’re dressed up as the grim reaper.”
“I could work with that.” His eyes roamed over me in a way that my one-hour outfit search was all for nothing. “And you?”
“I don’t have anything.” Liar. Liar. Liar. I’d been ready for this moment my whole life.
Ajax turned to regard my whole studio, which took him no more than ten seconds, taking in everything with a tight line. His eyes then shifted to my closet. “Is this where you hold your dresses hostage?”
“It’s private. Plus, may I remind you that I didn’t even invite you in.”
“Aurore, we won’t leave until you wear one of your dresses, and that’s an order.”
“No. You know I won’t.” I folded my arms on my chest. “And I don’t receive orders from anyone.”
“I’m not just anyone.”
“Pretentious, exigent man with a cold heart counts in the anyone category,” I countered back.
“Aurore, I’m serious.” He towered over me, making me feel short compared to him. “You’re my muse, and as my muse, I demand to see you wearing one of these dresses.”
And now I was thinking his authority was hot. What on earth was happening to me? “But it’s a date, and as a date, it’s pretty screwed up on your part to not compliment me on how gorgeous I naturally and effortlessly look instead of asking me to change my outfit. Very douchebag move.”
“So now you’re acknowledging that this is a real date?” He didn’t miss the beat.
“I didn’t. I—”
“The kids are waiting for us. You wouldn’t want to let them down.” He looked at his old-fashioned vintage watch. “My cold-blooded heart doesn’t care, but I bet you’d have regrets explaining to them why they all waited for nothing. At this age, you don’t forget being—”
“Fine, you win. You’re the evil one, manipulating me like that.” I eyed my closet, my heart palpitating. “It’s like pretending something that I’m not.”
“Isn’t that what writing is about?” He leaned on my closet. “And trust me, you act like a character coming from a storybook every day. You’re definitely like that. Now, don’t force me to watch you change because I will. I will even put that dress on you if I have to.”
“You’re a pervert on top of being a narcissist psychopath.”
“I know each of your curves already. I have a good memory.” He dared to tease me with that placid attitude of his. “Plus, I brought you a small gift.”
My eyes doubled in size at the mention of the gift. “What is it?”
From inside his vest, he handed me a box. “It wasn’t expensive; it’s even ridiculous.”
I opened it with haste. It was a crown. An evil queen kind of crown with black rocks and sharp edges. There was a wand too—a fairy godmother wand with a darker twist.
“I can’t believe you bought this.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I love it. That’s actually touching.”
“You seriously like it?”
“Of course.”
“Then, allow me.” He crowned me. “Now, I want to see you wearing one of those dresses of yours. I’ll sit on the edge of your bed since you don’t have a couch.”
My heart increased its tempo, but he didn’t leave me any choice. “Okay, I’ll do this, but if you dare laugh, I’m going on our date wearing my unicorn pajamas, and you’ll be the one with the princess gown.”
“We have a deal.” He sat on my bed and crossed his arms, bringing out the muscles in his biceps. “Not that I’d fit in any of your dresses.”
I lifted my chin and opened my closet. I needed a dress fit for the charity. I opted for a lavender one that left my shoulders bare, with long sleeves and puffy at the hips. Going into the bathroom, I put the dress and the crown on, accessorizing it with my wand. I applied a darker shade of gloss and added dark purple sparkles to my eyes.
“You got this, Aurore. You’re not defined by your family, your failures, or by others. You’re you. You’re not ridiculous. You’re—” I contemplated my reflection. “You’re certainly weird for a twenty-five-year-old woman, but it’s about time the fairy godmother becomes the main character. You deserve this. Luna would be proud.”
Finishing my pep talk, I snapped a picture and sent it to my sister.
Me: Can you believe that I’m wearing this?? Going to the charity date I was telling you about.
Luna: OMG. You look so pretty!! Your life is a dream. Are you going with some man, though?
A blush crept on my cheeks.
Luna: Don’t you dare leave me on seen! It’s a man, isn’t it?! I need to know everything about him!
Me: We’ll talk later 😉
Luna: You’re vicious… and here I am, stuck doing homework during summer break. You better tell me everything or you’re not my sister anymore!
I shut off my phone and exited the bathroom. I bowed dramatically in front of Ajax as if I was introducing myself in a royal court, the sound of the bathroom door creaking behind me before clicking shut.
“How do you find me, my dear nemesis?” I teased with a taunting smile. This wasn’t terrible after all. Being seen. Daring. Lifting my boundaries.
“I find you…” He became serious, a cryptic expression on his face. “Beautiful.” He paused again, clearing his throat. “Or, as you put it earlier, naturally and effortlessly gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” I managed to keep my breathing in check. “Those dresses mean a lot to me. It’s like the promise of a story that could be mine, a dream you don’t want to let go of. It’s hard to find a place to wear them. Well, I used to wear them for art classes when I modeled.”
“I remember,” he said.
“What?” Stupid hammering heart.
“The fabric of your gown, it was mesmerizing.” His eyes locked on mine, but this time, he was the one to look away first. “Where would you wear them now?”
“I don’t know. Beautiful places. Inspiring ones. For instance, I always dreamed of visiting the place I used to call ‘the castle in the sand.’ I don’t remember the exact name, but I pretended this was my castle as a child, and my sister pretended she was my fiercest warrior. Anyway—”
“I’ll bring you there,” Ajax deadpanned, and it felt like all the air in the room had been stolen. “I’ll bring you to those places until you wear each one of your dresses until the last one.”
“Yeah, right.” I snorted, but when he didn’t budge, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Why would you believe I’m not?”
His comment tightened the knot in my heart, and I hated the feel of it. The pound of hope. A crack in my already damaged heart.
“I—I bought cupcakes as well. I hope they’ll like them.” I obviously didn’t try to bake them myself, following the recipe of a child on YouTube.
As I headed toward the exit, I felt Ajax’s fingers brushing on mine. “I’m not lying, Aurore. I’ll prove it.”
We somehow made it to the hospital, where Veronique from L’espoir was waiting for us. All the shades of white around me made me uncomfortable, phantom ants scattering on my skin. I hadn’t been to a hospital after what had happened to Luna, and being there again brought all the feels back.
I managed a smile, facing Veronique, a forty-year-old brunette with a kind expression, and handed her my box of cupcakes for the kids.
“Thank you for coming. They’re waiting for you in the common room.” She greeted us with a beaming smile while I hadn’t been this stressed-out in my entire life. “I love how you’re dressed up. I was expecting to see you as a princess.”
I chuckled nervously, stroking my arm at the realization I had tried to be the princess but failed again. Veronique opened the door, and flashbacks struck me. I saw myself running with all the air in my lungs in my long dress in the cold hallway. I remembered the doctor’s diagnosis. My mother crying. My absent father, who didn’t pick up my calls.
My hand slammed to my heart as if I wanted to stop it at the view of the group of children, between six and thirteen, sitting in a circle. Some of them are the same age Luna was back then. It felt as if my heart shattered into thousands of pieces. Some of the children couldn’t breathe on their own, had scars on their skin, or were in wheelchairs. A loud buzz echoed in my ears. I couldn’t handle it, a wave of pain washing over me. I balled my hand, and I remained blank, unable to move or do anything. I was petrified.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered to Ajax, panic seizing my throat.
I couldn’t play the princess and act like sunshine while they were the true heroes and I was the impostor. I wasn’t the person to help them. Tears lashed the corners of my eyes, and I sprinted to the opposite side, disappearing from the room. I rushed to an empty white corner of a hallway and exploded into tears.
I had a hypersensitivity hidden underneath, and today, I couldn’t hold on. This was unfair. No one deserved this. No one—
“Aurore,” Ajax’s voice called me from behind.
“I’m sorry, I need a minute.” I struggled to breathe in and out, and before I could think, I collided with Ajax’s chest, hard and desperate.
He held his grip on me, wrapping me against his strong frame. I sought a comfort I never received. I never dared to be that vulnerable before because I needed to remain strong for everyone else, but today, I couldn’t. Ajax stroked my hair, and I let it all go, the pain and the remorse.
I wasn’t there for Luna.
“I feel like an impostor. When I saw their smiles, despite the pain and fear they must go through, I couldn’t step inside. I don’t have the slightest idea of what they went through, and here I am, how can I help?” More tears fell. “I’m just parading in a silly dress—this doesn’t help. This doesn’t change the fact I—”
“Aurore.” Ajax’s hands met my cheeks, and I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes and show him my tears. My weakness. Silly tears. I hadn’t cried in forever. “You can help. You’re ingenious, creative, and you have such a caring personality. I’ve never seen anyone like you. If there is one person that can make others believe your life is one of a storybook, it’s you. Hell, you inspired me. The foundation is named Hope for a good reason.”
“You don’t understand…” More tears flowed. “My sister, she—” I tightened my hands on his vest until it crumpled. I’d never said the words out loud before. I was never able to speak of it again because it tore my heart. “My sister was bullied hard at school for years, and I wasn’t there.”
My lips trembled, and I shut my eyes. “I was in Paris, too busy to listen to her or care for her. They made her go through hell—she no longer ate anything in the canteen and hid in the toilets because they humiliated her. They hit her, and she lied to us about the marks on her skin, pretending it was nothing because she was ashamed. We knew nothing of the hell she was going through. Nothing.” I bit on my lower lip hard until it bled, my nostrils flaring from rage. “The school knew my dad was unfaithful, and a group of kids used that to hurt her. They created a social media group and page to shame her and even pushed her into a river one day, treating her as less than a stray dog. And the day my mother called me—”
My hands shook, and Ajax’s arms pulled me even closer to him like a protective shield.
“She was at the hospital with cuts on her wrists. She had tried to—” My voice dropped, and I fell on the floor, curving myself around my knees.
I was responsible. I’d let that happen to Luna by being in Paris. She had no one but me, and I’d failed her. I didn’t respond to her messages after hours, dodging her calls when I wasn’t in the mood. I even told her she was a drag when we were younger, tired of being the big sister and the pillar of the family who had to handle everything. I wasn’t with her when my family exploded and my dad’s true colors showed. She was alone.
She hadn’t been back to school since that day. She was now scared of meeting new people her age and shut down all of her social media accounts before bringing them back a couple of weeks ago—probably because of this Ryan. In September, it’d be her first year back to school, and I was terrified the story would repeat itself.
I breathed deeply. “She thought her life was meaningless and that no one loved her. When I thought I had lost her forever, I promised myself I’d never let anything bad happen to anyone I care about. That’s why I need to prove to her that happy endings do exist. I can’t let her down again. My little sister has the kindest soul. She deserves her fairy tale. Not this. And I’m a failure at that too.”
I crashed my face on my hands, and Ajax crouched down in front of me. I felt his fingertips brushing over my hands before he separated them to expose my tears. He stroked a strand of my hair behind my ear in a touch that was caring and affectionate, but his face didn’t reveal anything.
“Aurore,” he whispered. “I’m not good at this… dealing with emotions, but I—”
“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not asking for pity or—”
“Your sister is strong. She survived, and she believes in you. You don’t have to be invincible for her—just be you. She hasn’t lost hope. You need to forgive yourself and stop feeling unworthy of her love. Life may not be fair, but we have to make it the best we can.” He snapped his lips shut, frowning. “When my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and dementia at an age younger than usual, my father treated her like a patient, as if she was a stranger to him and not the same human as she was. She isn’t unhappy—she’s a fighter, and she doesn’t want to be looked at with pity. Your sister simply wants her sister back, and for that, you need to heal, just like she does.”
My eyes widened, and I tried to erase the new tears forming. “You’re actually very good at this.”
“The expensive appointments at the shrink my father paid for will have been useful for something.” I believed he was trying to make a joke. “I left too. I left my brother at the mercy of my father, and I’m not even sure my mother remembers me. So I think I understand how you feel.”
“It feels like climbing the top of a mountain, and as you try to reach higher, you have to take off the arrows stuck on your back, your hands so blistered that it burns. A storm tries to kick you off alongside the falling stones, but if you fall, you crash and die. It feels like you have no choice but to continue, carrying your loved ones like a weight so they won’t fall with you,” I whispered. “It feels like you’ll never reach the top of the mountain, but you don’t have a choice.”
“It feels just like that,” Ajax added. “Except that I dropped the weights and didn’t look back like the unemotional man that I am.”
“Ajax…” My eyes bored into his, and I hesitated to reach for his hand. “I’m sorry about your mother. That is heartbreaking.”
“The day I left, she was only at an early stage, just messing up with names and not remembering what happened minutes ago. Sometimes, she’d walk at night without remembering where she was. She’s the only one who used to know I’m Spectre. Now she’s forgotten, but she still loves my art,” he confided. “That’s why I paint. Because I want to immortalize moments so they are never forgotten. Our brains can die, but not what we feel watching an art piece. No one and no sickness can take away our essence and how we feel. That’s why those children and your sister need you. They need your creativity. Your feelings. They need to remember how it feels to be alive. They need to remember they are strong, loved, and that they are allowed to dream. To have the future they hope for. Those happy endings of yours.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that.” I wrinkled my nose, snorting like a kid in need of a Kleenex. “You said life is empty.”
“And you’re proving me wrong.”
“You’re—” Perfect. My chin shook, my hands trembling, witnessing a part of Ajax I’d never seen before. A part I connected with more than I thought I ever could with another being. “You’re right.”
I erased the tears with my knuckles. “I’m sorry. Oh god, I haven’t cried once in all these years, and today, I can’t help it. The tears don’t want to stop.”
“Never excuse yourself for feeling.”
I took a shaky breath. “I’m not used to being vulnerable.”
“I won’t hurt you,” he said as if I had offended him.
“I really want to believe you.” I calmed myself down with some breathing, looking at my surroundings with a new peace. “I’m ready now.”
“I’m right behind you.”
He lifted himself up, and he kept his promise, walking behind me. Our hands brushed together when I stepped into the room once more. The chatter stopped, and beautiful wide eyes were on us. Ajax gave me a head nod and parted his hand away from me. I got this.
“Hi, everyone!” I waved at the children, my mascara probably dripping down my cheeks. “Today, I’m alongside the—” I looked at Ajax, who stood next to the board. “The misunderstood knight. And we’ll tell you a fairy-tale story, but it’s not a story like any others. This is ours. I recognize all of you—you were the heroes of Alandia.”
“And to help you remember the tale, we brought outfits to help you choose your characters,” Ajax cut in, showing the bags tossed to the side of the room.
The children rushed to the bags. Inside, there were either swords to be knights, crowns to be princesses, and other disguises to be witches, magical creatures, or superheroes. All of them dressed up, Veronique helping the ones who couldn’t get dressed by themselves. I had no idea where the clothes and accessories came from. Ajax had said “we.” Was it he who brought this?
A little girl dressed as an Amazon warrior said, “But you, who are you?”
“You’re no princess,” another one with a crown added.
I locked eyes with Ajax, and a smile tilted my lips, accepting my character. I brought a hand to my Evil Queen crown, and Ajax made drawings on the board. It was my cue.
“Some would say I’m the villain of the tale, but that’s because they don’t know my story,” I narrated, my eyes probably sparkling with mischief. The children gossiped, and some gasped. “I’m your evil fairy godmother, and I’m here to make you remember the magic in you. It all began with once upon a time, forgotten by everyone else…”
I improvised a fairy-tale story with every character the children were dressed up as. This way, they’d all either act as villains or heroes in the tale. There were no secondary characters, only main ones. Spectre was illustrating every scene in the back, as I lost myself in a storytelling of adventures, magic, and love. The choreography slowly took place, and blank pages were written. At the sound of their laughs and the sight of their eyes immersed in the story, I knew I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t let them down. I couldn’t let past events define me. They were all like Luna, strong dreamers, and so was I. I still felt that passion warming my heart and shattering the thorns.
I was worthy of a happy ending.
“And that’s how you guys were the heroes of Alandia, saving it from misery and sadness.” I bowed, and the children clasped their hands.
I exchanged a look with Ajax, whose lips were curling into one of his emblematic scowls.
“Fairy godmother!” a girl in a princess dress called me, tugging on her ribbon. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“No,” Ajax and I denied together at the same time.
“The way he looks at you, it’s like love. And you, you’re red like a tomato,” she insisted with a laugh.
“No, I’m not.” If I couldn’t feel my blush before, I could definitely now, and I wasn’t the kind to blush.
“You’re blushing!” other girls screamed at the same time.
I crossed my arms and squinted. “Stop now, or I’ll curse you.”
But my threat made them laugh even more.
“Knights don’t love.” A boy brandished his sword to the sky. “They conquer.”
“Their hearts are brave. They love, and they protect each other.” I displayed a smile. “My sister is a knight. She always has my back.”
“Will the evil fairy godmother come back to tell more stories?” the boy in the back under a ventilator asked.
“Me?” I literally gasped.
“Yeah! We want to know your story,” another one added.
“You’re funny,” the girl with the ribbon said with a beaming smile.
I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. They wanted me—grumpy, sarcastic, side-character me. My stories and I were chosen.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m the right person,” I refuted with hand gestures.
“Please,” they pleaded in a group.
“We can identify with your stories. It feels real,” the boy in the back dropped.
“We have a place in them, even if we are imperfect,” one of the kids whispered.
Imperfect.
I peered at each of them. All with incredible stories to tell, but they didn’t feel like the main characters. They felt imperfect because it was what we made them believe with stories not representing them.
“You’re right.” I smiled, recognition flashing across my features. “You know what, I’d actually love to.”
The children put on satisfied smiles as Veronique clapped her hands. “It’s time, guys. The knight and the godmother have to go now.”
“But I’ll be back with more fairy tales. I promise,” I added in a high-pitched tone as the children started to gather back to their daily schedule, complaining about it.
“I have a question.” The pretty girl with the princess gown rolled her wheelchair to be next to me. “Are you truly a fairy godmother?”
“In a way.” I crouched on my knees to face her. “I mean, we can be everything we want to be, right?”
“I want to walk someday again. Can you help me?” Her eyes shone, and I parted my lips, shooting a glance at Veronique.
Veronique’s brows knitted together, and she gave me a head shake, her hand over her heart. That child would never walk again, but I couldn’t let her lose her dream—the feeling was too painful. If we could dream it, we could make it happen, one way or another. There was always a way—that’s what Luna taught me.
“I’m sorry. I cannot do that,” I said to her.
Disappointment washed away her features, and her hopeful smile dropped. “Oh, I thought so.”
I seized her hand. “But I promise I’ll make you fly.”
Her features lit up again. “Really? Could you do that?”
I laughed. “Yes! Yes, I can do that!” Evil godmothers had plenty of resources to carry out their evil schemes, and I was a tenacious one. “What’s your name?”
“Clara.”
I stood up. “Clara, I’ll make you fly. That’s a promise.”
We exchanged a last smile, and Veronique came to see me alone once the kids all left. “They loved you.”
“Thank you. I would like to help more often.” I paused. “My friend Emma mentioned you wanted to produce a theater show for the kids? Perhaps I could help with the storytelling and the organization. I’m still in Paris for a couple of weeks, if that’s enough.”
“Oh yes, we were looking for a volunteer to get invested in a theater show, but we still haven’t found anyone. It would be a pleasure if we could have you, and I’m sure parents would love it.” Parents liking me was another battle. “I’ll contact you about your availability and schedule a free time for all of the children.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Ideas came to my mind, and a wave of new hope surged through me.
“I should be the one thanking you, and your—right, not your boyfriend.” She glanced at Ajax. “When he told us you were a writer and could do a fairy-tale reading dressed up as a real-life storybook character, we were so happy. Plus, the children love the outfits you guys brought today.”
“He did that?” My mouth hung open. He was the one who’d called them, not Emma. That sinister Ajax mincing his way into my cold heart had planned everything.
“He did.” Veronique grinned. “I should head back to work. We’ll keep in touch, Aurore. Glad to have you on board.”
I couldn’t detach my eyes from Ajax, who was prowling toward me, removing the bits of chalk that had landed on his jacket.
I lifted a brow. “So, I heard you were the one responsible for me dressing up like that.”
“You needed a reason to wear your dresses, and now that you’ve done it once, you won’t just look at them in your closet.”
“Thank you for everything you did today. For me and for them. You’re not as selfish and coldhearted as I thought you were.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“I think it is,” I teased. “I think you even helped me find my inspiration.”
He leaned closer, and it took all the willpower in the world not to jump into his arms. “And how so?”
“I have tales in my head. Life is too depressing without a dream, and like you said, I can’t change my view of the world. Life is not empty, and if I succeeded in proving you wrong, I can do it with everyone else. Life can be a true fairy tale—this is not my ending yet.” I removed the crown that he had offered to me from my head and analyzed it, excitement coming in a wave that couldn’t be tempered. “I want to fight for all those who haven’t seen their story written. I want each person to find themselves in my books. I want myself and everyone else like me to feel that they have the right to that happiness too.”
And here it was, my biggest confession. I’d been searching for inspiration outside of myself while I had it in me all this time. Everything I felt and lived, everyone around me fighting battles of their own: I had a story, one inspired by reality. I had to use all the emotions within me, not only the light but the blackness too. Just like fairy tales are born from the dark and the gloomy to bring out light and joy.
“I’m very pleased to hear that.” A thin line sketched his lips. “And what would your Aurore fairy tale look like?”
I thought this through. “She’d wear a tight black bustier dress, with crossover lines to add some textures, an open slit on the leg, long black gloves, and a veil a shade of purple resting on her shoulders. And this crown on her head.”
“Her clothes are what came first to you?”
“Obviously.” My lips turned playful. “You can tell a lot about her by the way she dresses. For instance, this one, she’d be the misunderstood evil queen. Happy endings are not the same for everyone.”
“Well, I look forward to reading it.”
“I’ll inspire you too, Ajax. I’m your muse—you’ll see. I’ll help you get what you want,” I promised to the man who had given me back the spark I had lost.
I was finding myself again.
I had cried, but I was rising up from my ashes.
And in the end, I wouldn’t overcome my past with hatred and revenge but with love and forgiveness in my heart.
