"Wow, that's direct."

Sorell had to admit Zara took the phrase honesty is the best policy to another level.

"I hate beating around the bush. Ravan was beginning to open up to me."

Sorell smiled, "well, good for you, Zara."

"But your presence here todayㅡ."

"Wait a minute. It was a coincidence. I didn't come here for Ravan."

"But you're here, and Ravan is probably waiting for a moment to talk to you."

Sorell smiled and shrugged, "normal; he's my homie."

Zara cocked a brow at the ironic response, and Sorell thought it was the right moment to give Zara a piece of her mind.

"Okay, now you listen," Sorell stepped up to Zara, "Ravan isn't just a friend; he's family. He's good, he's honest, and when he loves, it's unconditional. You hurt him, and I'll find you. I'll make your life a living hell. Don't ever dare think you're some prize and fool around. He's the prize. Ravan deserves better than a woman who lowers herself to the level of barking warning signs at any woman close to him. You should know your worth."

Sorell turned on her heels and began to make her way out of the park.

What was that?

Why was she so hot and flustered?

Her legs wobbled as the rest of her body. She boiled.

Who did that woman think she was?

Sorell was almost at the gate when she felt someone grasp her arm, "Sorㅡ."

"What now?" The woman snapped before seeing the person who called her out.

"Don't tell me you're leaving already. We didn't even get to talk."

"He's probably waiting for a moment to talk to you."

Zara seemed to know the man more than Sorell imagined.

"Do we need to?" Sorell replied. Her gaze fled behind her sunglasses. Something happened, Ravan thought.

"I saw you talking to Zara."

"Yes, she's sweet. I'm glad to see you found someone."

"Sorell, it's not what youㅡ."

It wasn't what she thought, but it had to be.

"I'm happy for you, really, Ravan. You need someone in your life."

"Sorell, stop it," Ravan stepped forward.

The woman brought a hand to a halt in front of her, "Ravan, please. I don't want my words to go beyond my reflection."

Ravan was about to take another step when the sound of clicking heels hurrying in their direction stopped his stride. Zara grasped Ravan's arm and hugged it.

The petty gesture was too much for Sorell, who said, "I have to go."

She strutted away, and Ravan wished to follow. His chest tightened, and for some reason, he felt like he missed an opportunity.

"Ravan."

The man turned to face Zara. His lips quivered with the questions he had. The pretend game they played was supposed to make Sorell revise her decision. Yet, at that instant, the man had the impression that whatever Zara did reinforced Sorell's beliefs.

"I saw you speaking with Sorell."

"Yes, I spoke to her and told her I liked you a lot."

"You did what? Why, what did she say?" Ravan asked, more curious about knowing Sorell's opinion.

"She said she was over her high school crush and too busy. She wished us the best," Zara replied.

Ravan blinked, "Sorell said that?"

A small doubt subsisted. Then again, the words were so-Sorell-like.

Ravan could definitely see the anchor pronounce such a sentence in the most standoffish manner.

"Zara, you shouldn't have said that."

"But it's true, though, Ravan. I like you a lot. I only told Sorell this because I don't want an ambiguous situation. I don't want to pretend anymore. -Ravan, is there a chance for you to consider me differently?"

The woman went straight to the point. She knew attempting to say anything wrong about Sorell would only result in Ravan defending and going after the journalist for good.

Ravan was taken aback by the question, yet it wasn't like he was unaware of Zaras feelings. He chose to ignore the signs by accommodation.

Now she backfired her emotions on him and left the man no options.

Ravan wondered if she expected an answer then. Of course, she did. Her solemn stare awaited some sort of engagement on his behalf.

While Ravan thought of his next step, Sorell drove home arguing.

"Listen, we didn't go there together, and I don't owe you anything."

"Why are you so heartless, Sorell? And to think we were beginning to get along," the man said in her earbuds.

Sorell shook her head in disapproval and turned the steering wheel to enter her parking lot. The event was a twenty-minute drive from her home.

She could have taken a taxi but preferred the comfort of her car.

"Kwan, there's nothing you and I can do together except cause a disaster."

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to contradict you. I want you on my show."

The woman got out of the car and clicked shut her doors before gasping a "What? I said no already."

"You heard me. I told you I wanted us to work together. You're the only person I trust on your channel."

"Wow, that must be frightening," Sorell said as she walked to the elevator.

"You know what they say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I want us to be as close as paper and glue."

Sorell stopped in her tracks to give time for her mind to register, "that must be one of the most deranged things I've heard in years."

"No, seriously, Sorell, Regie wants us to have a meeting next Tuesday to discuss this. Sorell, we could do something great together."

The woman sighed, "listen, Kwan, I'm a little tired. Can we have this talk tomorrow?"

"Only if you accept my tea time invitation."

"Tea time?"

"Yes, teatime, like a four PM snack break," the man replied.

"Only if it's in a public place."

"Great, I'll send you the address.

They hung up, Sorell didn't know what the man was up to, but she didn't care. She had other matters to take care of, like her itching scalp that detected she was home and wished to be free from the elastic net.

"Home already. How did it go?" Her aunt asked when she entered the living room.

Sorell sighed and began to unbutton her shirt, "It went."

Her aunt lifted an inquisitive brow, "it went, huh? What happened?"

"Kwan Alai was there, and so was Ravan?"

"Aww, really, did you invite him for dinner? I'd love to see how the rascal has grown before I leave."

Sorell shook her head, "aunty, Ravan isn't a kid anymore, and besides, he came with someone. The woman on his reels. He had a date."

"I see," Mirelle said as she watched her niece strip off her outfit.

"Sorell, is everything okay?"

"I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, why shouldn't I be," Sorell replied as she went to the bathroom and began to take off her makeup."

"Be careful, Sorell. Your lashes are new," Mirelle warned as her niece rubbed the cotton on her face in an irrational hasty manner.

Sorell stopped and looked at her face in the mirror, "she's beautiful, aunty. The woman he's with is gorgeous; all of them were. They were so many Indian and middle eastern beauties with long thick beautiful hair. They were all so pretty."

"You were gorgeous too, honey."

"Yes, but look at me now. I look like nothing," Sorell said as she began to unclip her wig."

"Sorell, please."

"None of those women have to wear fake lashes or lay fake baby hairs."

Her aunt slid her head back, "how do you know? We're all in the same game nowadays."

"Aunty, please, you know what I'm talking about."

"Sorell, you should know what really matters when love is involved."

"Oh, please don't come with your beauty inside skit. No one, I say no one will love the bald patched, teeth cracking me. Those are the facts and reality of our era."

"Sorell, you are being too harsh on yourself."

"Aunty, I'm realistic. A woman has to have hair on her head and nowhere else on her body, a clear complexion, and no body parts that wiggle except her jelly."

"Sorell, things are changing, natural hair, body positivity, we're coming out of the dark."

"It's an allusion, aunty, to make all those who can't afford the changes feel included. It's bullshit. ㅡA girl can be big, but there's the sexy big known as curvy," Sorell said, opening the quotation marks with her hands, "ㅡand the ugly slob big. There's the sex slim and the bad skinny. People celebrate their flaws; otherwise, they would commit suicide if they listened and read every hate comment about their appearance. I can't pretend; I'm here. I see myself and what I see is shit."

Mireille sighed. Sorell was in one of her destruction modes, and nothing someone said would make her change her mind. No one could guess Sorell's vision of herself behind closed doors, and she knew she would have to pretend to be another woman with any man she let into her life.

"I'm so fucking ugly."

"Did you talk to him?" Mirelle asked to change the subject.

"Talk to who?"

"Ravan."

"Yes, I did, briefly."

"And did he seem indifferent?"

"Aunty, are you listening? He's with someone. Someone with hair, he's with someone who doesn't look like she got cast for ten seasons of the Walking Dead as a zombie."

"You know what, Sorell, you're right. You can't be with that man or anyone else. You are so damn selfish and stuck in your ways to reach that level of happiness. You need to stop running from people and yourself."

Mirelle turned away. It took a split second. All Mirelle heard was the shattering sound of breaking as Sorell threw one of her perfume bottles at the mirror.

No, a few soups and hot meals weren't enough to drive away the demon that fed on Sorell's self-esteem.

Hi friends

I know we all thought she made it.

Take care!