POV Akhyra 

"You've made an incredible amount of progress in a very short time," my therapist compliments once I've finished talking. 

This is our first in-person session since I've returned to the USA, and I had to update her about the recent evolutions in my life.

Dr. Noreen is usually good at keeping a poker face, but her professional mask slipped when I mentioned my first contact with Lucian back in Haiti. I could sense that she craved to ask questions, but she remained silent and never interrupted me. For a brief moment, I even spotted the ghost of a smile on her lips when I recounted the museum surprise that Lucian organized with my team's help.

"I wouldn't qualify the recent developments as incredible progress," I remark dubiously. "They're more like minuscule milestones."

"You're overlooking your achievements," Dr. Noreen answers in a pragmatic tone she often uses when she doesn't agree with me. "Consider the timeline of your recent trip to Haiti up until you've returned here. In only one month, you've made two friends Maëlla and Simone. Plus, you now have a romantic prospect: Lucian. That's a huge step compared to when you first came into my office four years ago."

"I recognize that those changes are somewhat significant, yet I still have the impression that for every step forward, I retreat two steps back."

"Let's try to identify the reason why you feel that way."

"For example, during my..." I hesitate briefly before saying the word. "During my date with Lucian, we danced. That's the most contact I've ever had with someone. And he does create this type of energy that makes me feel like it's safe to touch him. However, it seems that my brain hasn't entirely caught up with that. Because after the museum I've not been able to touch him again. The simple idea of it made my heart go crazy. I got scared of not being able to handle it."

When Lucian drove me home after the exhibition, I spent the majority of the car ride imagining what it would be like to kiss him. However, when we arrived at our destination, I simply wished him goodnight before bolting inside.

"As you've pointed out, it was the most contact you've ever had with someone else," Dr. Noreen says. "From what you recounted, this day was filled with a lot of instances during which you had to push past your comfort zone. While that's a good thing, the human brain is a strange thing, Akhyra. It hates changes. I think what you've experienced after the museum was a type of sensory overload. Your subconscious has a self-imposed mechanism that will always ensure that you make decisions that will provide you the most satisfaction while simultaneously avoiding those that might cause the most pain. In your case, you've associated proximity with harm for so long that you will need to gradually deconstruct that misbelief. It can not happen all at once. Baby steps."

"So in less complicated therapist words, my brain is telling me to slow down?"

"Essentially, yes."

"How do I deconstruct this misbelief?"

"That's why you're in therapy, Akhyra."

"But it's a long and tedious process," I complain, not caring that I might come off as a whiny brat. "How do I make my brain realize that Lucian is entirely safe? That I can keep touching him?"

"Well, in order to change your current conception about touching people..."

"Not people. Just Lucian."

"Working on your proximity with others is just as important."

"Except I don't care about other people. Maybe once I get comfortable enough with Lucian, we can focus on others. Baby steps. Remember?"

Ha! In four years of therapy, I've finally outsmarted my therapist. I barely resist the urge to stand up and do a few pirouettes of victory.

"Alright. Let's make a list."

Dr. Noreen makes a show of picking up the stylus of her tablet and begins to write on the screen.

"What kind of list are we making?"

"Earlier it sounded like you want a set of tasks to accomplish with the desired outcome of being more comfortable with Lucian. Is that correct?

"Correct."

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions, and based on your answers, we'll try to come up with corresponding tasks. How does that sound?"

"Perfect."

While Valentino drives me back home at the end of my therapy session, I am still thinking about the list that Dr. Noreen and I came up with. Now that the tasks are written down, I will have to work on completing them, which gives my mind something to look forward to.

Back at my condo, we've barely crossed the lobby when Valentino asks if I'll be busy in the reading room today. 

"No. Why?"

"I'll be working from there if that's okay."

"What about the study?"

He tries to remain impassive, but I detect a peculiar edge in his voice when he answers, "Hannah is already there."

"And that's a problem because?"

I stop listening as he gives me a bunch of nonsensical excuses about how his productivity is magnified when he's working alone. Since our return to the U.S. Hannah and Valentino work here six hours daily before leaving. 

In Haiti, when we lived under the same roof, I witnessed firsthand the unmistakable attraction between them. What I'm reading between the lines of Valentino's excuses is that he and Hannah had a fling, and now things are so awkward between them that they can't even be in the same working space. Their problem is not mine. 

"You'll be working in the study. End of discussion."

I follow Valentino to that room to assess the level of awkwardness between him and Hannah. My mind tries to piece together various scenarios that might have occurred. Did they sleep together and realized it was a horrible mistake? I'm dying to know, but I suppose it would be unprofessional to ask.

The moment we walk into the room, Valentino goes straight to his working station after greeting Hannah in a polite but detached manner. 

I need to find a reason to linger for a while. I go over Hannah's desk and ask her to brief me about what she's been working on. As she goes over the audience analytics of my different social media platforms, I notice the furtive glances that Valentino throws in her direction. I'm not sure he's even aware of doing it as if his attention is automatically pulled toward her despite his own will.

When my gaze returns on Hannah's desk, something under her planner catches my attention. There seems to be an open notebook hidden there, but half the page is visible, showing the illustration of a dress.

"Can I see?" I ask, pointing toward it,

"It's really nothing much," Hannah protests in a self-conscious manner.

"It's a yes or no type of question."

She seems to debate this a little before pulling out the notebook to place it on top of the desk, allowing me to flip through several pages filled with pencil croquis of women dressed elegantly. I quickly notice a pattern in Hannah's illustrations. Cocktail dresses and evening gowns. There's a signature at the bottom of the pages E. K. Her initials.

One of the pages makes me stop my exploration. There's no drawing on that one but a collage of several pictures of what appears to be the interior design of a fashion boutique. It's a vision board.

"When are you planning to open it?" I ask.

"I already tried that," Hannah answers pensively. "After graduating from design school, a group of friends and I had decided to venture into a small business for a while. We had put our savings together to make it happen, and it failed miserably. I was prepared to start all over again, but when I reached out to my friends, most of them had already moved on to other things and couldn't invest their time in that project anymore. I tried one more time by myself and failed again. At this point in my life, I realized that I was getting older, and while my friends were out there working hard to build their future, I kept following a pipe dream. So I put my big girl pants on, put that passion behind me, and started looking for a real job. The rest is history."

"You haven't created anything since?"

"No."

"I understand looking for a stable source of income, but you could have continued working on your craft as a hobby. You clearly have the talent for it."

"It felt easier for me to break ties entirely."

That's not what I'm seeing from those pages. These designs feel a lot like longing.

"You're never planning to create anything again?"

"I'm not going to say never. However, that's in the far future. After I've established myself as a creative director in a corporate setting. That's the goal for now. "

I remember being impressed by Hannah's resume when I vetted her for an interview as a potential employee. She has worked as a freelance brand strategist with many businesses and celebs before, providing them with a strong and unique identity across digital platforms. She's building a portfolio to go corporate, which I admire.

"That's ambitious, but it doesn't have to kill your dream."

"I just can't afford any distraction until I've put my career on the right track."

I follow Hannah's gaze as she says this, and my eyes land on Valentino, who seems absorbed by whatever he's typing on his laptop.

Well... Can't argue with that. 

***

The rehearsals for Enchanted Shadows are not as dreadful as I had previously expected. Brittany didn't stop being a nuisance, but she never had the guts to confront me openly like she did on the first day. 

Simone and I fell into a comfortable routine of having brunch together after leaving the studio. We've discovered a common affinity for mimosas and decided to rate various versions of the alcoholic beverage by visiting different restaurants within our area.

We're currently on a rooftop lounge, with two flutes of sunrise mimosas in front of us and matching plates of Japanese pancakes when I decide to pull out the gift that I have brought for her. 

"This is for you," I say, placing the small jewelry box at the center of our table. 

Simone's mouth opens in stupefaction as a glow of happiness takes over her face.

"Wait, are you serious? I didn't know we were celebrating. I would've bought you something as well."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." 

Her gift is a beaded amethyst bracelet with dangling charms: a ballet slipper, a microphone, a ballerina, a dwarf and a snow flake. I had it made as a symbol of our friendship because we met through the casting of Enchanted Shadows. There's also another meaning behind it.

"I know you're struggling to make a choice between dedicating yourself to ballet and trying to launch your music career," I tell Simone. "Hopefully, this bracelet will remind you that no matter your choice, these two passions will always be a part of who you are." 

Simone tears up a little as she clasps the bracelet around her wrist. "This is the nicest thing someone has ever done for me. Thank you."

"Thank you for being my friend."

By the end of the week on Friday night, I find myself buried under my comfort blanket, sprawled on the sofa of my living room, surrounded by a mountain of kleenex as I watch the final episode of Queen Charlotte while being on a video-call with Lucian's sister who is also bawling her eyes out. In my defense, the bottle of wine I opened earlier is already halfway gone, which explains my uncontrollable stream of tears.

Because we are masochists, Maëlla and I decide to reenact the most emotional scenes from the show, starting with the epic love confession in the king's observatory. I'm in the middle of saying Charlotte's line "I will stand with you between the heavens and the earth..." When I receive a call from my dad that puts an end to our improvised acting session.

"Hey Starlight. How is it going?" he asks when I pick up.

"Working on making the world remember my name."

"You're too extraordinary to be forgotten," he answers fondly. "Listen, I had an idea today and wanted to check if you'd have time to help me with it."

"What is it?"

"As you know, semi-finals are at our door, and I need my guys to be at the top of their performance. Do you remember that training you went through when you prepared for the Prix de Lausanne?"

I was seventeen when I participated in the prestigious international ballet competition held annually in Switzerland. Aside from regular ballet practices, my mentor back then established an intensive training program to reinforce my endurance and strengthen my core. This training was the only time in my entire life that I seriously considered quitting ballet. 

"How could I forget those good old days, Dad?" 

My father laughs at my sarcasm before speaking. "I think the team could benefit from that. Do you think you could stop by our training base tomorrow to work with them for a few hours?"

The simple idea of torturing Lucian and his teammates put a smile on my lips. It will also give me the opportunity to execute task number four on Dr. Noreen's list.

"You can count on me, Dad. It will be my pleasure."

᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽𑁍𑁍𑁍𑁍᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽

❣︎ꍏꀎ꓄ꀍꂦꋪ'ꌚ ꈤꂦ꓄ꏂ❣︎

🆀︎🆄︎🅴︎🆂︎🆃︎🅸︎🅾︎🅽︎

𝑨𝒏𝒚 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒏𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝑫𝒓. 𝑵𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒃𝒆?

ꪶꪮꪜꫀ, ᥴꪖᦓᦓꪗ✿︎