POV Lucian

Coming here feels like tasting fresh wind after walking out of the ninth circle of hell. With a deep breath, I knock on the door, and a few moments later, it opens.

"Good morning, Genius," I greet my sister, who looks at me speechless. 

Maëlla is definitely taller than the last time I saw her. I can't believe she's already nineteen. It feels like yesterday that we were celebrating her sixteenth birthday. I'm not ready for her to leave teenage years behind.

"Lucian, you're here!" She tackles me in a bear hug that makes me laugh, but as soon as I put her down, she hits me in the arm.

"Ouch what was that for?"

"You've been back here for almost two weeks, and you're only visiting now?"

Well, I've been working for Lucifer for the past couple of days and barely had time to catch my breath, but there's no need to tell her that.

"I'm sorry Maëlla, there were too many things to take care of. But I've brought gifts," I add as I point to the packages waiting in my car.

She squeals in delight as we go to pick them up before making our way inside.

"Where's your mother?"

"Preparing breakfast," she answers. "Let's go to my room. I gotta show you my new trophies."

"Go ahead, I'm gonna say hello first."

I walk toward the kitchen, where I find the woman who gave birth to me busy chopping vegetables. I greet her in Creole, but she doesn't answer. I'm about to do it again when she finally lets out, "Ou resi sonje nou pa bò isi?" You only remember us now?

On the contrary of my little sister, I know that her reproach goes way deeper than me, not coming to visit sooner. If I'm being honest, chauffeuring Akhyra around Arcahaie is not the reason I've put off coming here so many times. I knew that the moment my mother and I would be under the same roof, it'd be a matter of minutes before an argument broke out. 

"I brought you a gift," I say, ignoring her remark. 

She doesn't bother to even look at it, so I decide to place it on the kitchen table for her. This seems to trigger her to start one of her infamous rants.

She begins by mentioning the bills that are piling up and accuses me of not sending as much money as I promised. My mother really thinks I'm out there living Leo Messi's life when, in fact, my paycheck is barely enough to cover my own living expenses. It's not a secret to anyone that the government puts zero funds in the national football team. 

Our private sponsors are the reasons why we can afford equipment and travel expenses. But explaining all of this to her would be pointless because as always she'd point out that I'm driving a nice car and I'm tired of reminding her that the entire team had received the same gift from one of our benefactors. 

When she finally stops speaking, I decide not to argue. I've come here to see Maëlla, I'll be gone in a heartbeat. As I leave the kitchen, I hear her disdainful mutter, "Bon van," telling me to get lost.

Maëlla has already unpacked all of her gifts on her bed when I walk into her room. Most of them are merchandise from BTS, the Kpop group that she's obsessed with.

"How was it?" she asks as I sit next to her.

"It was alright," I lie before changing the topic. "Show me those trophies you were talking about."

For the next hour, I listen to my sister recount how she beat her opponents in three different competitions, a local chess tournament, an inter-major math quiz organized at her university and her project for youth emancipation hosted by the mayor also won.

"You've been busy." I let out a long whistle, impressed by her achievements. 

I proceed to make my sister take a few pictures of me holding the trophies proudly as if I had won them myself. 

"When you win the Gold Cup, can I take a picture with yours as well?"

My chest tightens with emotions at how much faith she has in me.

"Of course, Genius, what a question!"

My phone vibrates, and I check it out to see that I received a new message from Akhyra. She has sent me a detailed list of toys to buy and bring to her in no more than twenty minutes. I begin to wonder if she's throwing a birthday kid's party, but this is as unlikely as snow falling on this tropical island.

"You already have to go?" Maëlla asks in a small voice.

"Duty calls, unfortunately, but I'm taking you out this weekend," I promise, giving her a final hug.

"We'll talk about my new crush. You missed a lot of tea."

"What happened to Jerry?" I ask, remembering our late night phone calls about a guy in Political Sciences that she couldn't get out of her mind.

"Ew, I ghosted him like a month ago."

"I told you he gave off small dick energy," I remind her.

"No, that wasn't the problem. He had a massive one, actually."

"I did not need to know that," I answer with a grimace that makes her laugh.

Maëlla insists on having breakfast with me, and because I can't refuse her anything, I stay for a few more minutes. Now I'm thrust back into reality, the one where I've become an errand boy

pushing my cart along the aisles of children toys when I receive a phone call from my agent, Kevin.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Same old, trying to get your name out there. What about you?"

My eyes fall on the ridiculous amount of dolls in my cart as I answer, "Trust me, you don't want to know."

"Well then, I apologize for not bringing good news."

"What's wrong?"

"The recruiters from Manchester and Bayern, they were quite hot at the beginning of the Gold Cup competition, but lately, my emails have gone unanswered."

He gives me a moment to digest that information. 

"Think they are getting cold feet?"

"To be honest, I think so. The bad press you've gotten lately has done damage to your image. I've tried to do as much damage control as I can, but it's not easy."

"What can I do?" I inquire even if I know that by this point, only winning the Gold Cup could redeem me in their eyes.

"Nothing for now," Kevin answers. "Maintain a low profile and let me think of something."

"Alright, keep me posted."

"Will do."

After completing my shopping duties, an employee of the store helps me position them in my car. Once our task is accomplished, I give him a tip, and he wishes me a good day before walking away. I'm about to get in my car when a stranger's voice calls out my name.

"Lucian Moreno! Fancy seeing you here."

I turn around to find a lanky man wearing a white hat and a distasteful zebra suit walking in my direction.

"Hello," I answer in a polite but distant tone. "Do we know each other?"

"Ha! I don't think you'd have forgotten had we been introduced," he laughs loudly as if putting on a performance, then he produces a business card. "The name's Patrick Juste, sports journalist. I've got my own show on channel 15."

"That's interesting," I comment flatly. I can already sense where this is going.

"While you're in the country, we would like to have you for a special interview."

"I'm flattered, but I don't handle these matters. You'd have to go through my agent first."

"No worries," he replies coyly. "We'll see each other soon."

"Have a nice day," I say to put an end to the conversation, then I climb into my car.

***

I finally understand the reason why Akhyra has sent me shopping for toys when we arrive at an orphanage, and she instructs me to park there. I was surprised when she got into my car earlier for the first time, but I noticed her Dad's car wasn't home, so she didn't have much of a choice.

Before she got in the backseat, she had the audacity to ask how often I clean it because there's no way she was gonna let cheap dust ruin her Louis Vuitton suit. I swear this girl must have been crafted in a factory where they produce the most snobbish people to ever walk the earth.

"Will Hannah and Valentino join us?" I ask once I've gotten out of the car after letting her go outside first.

"No. It's their day off."

"Don't expect me to be your photographer of the day," I warn her.

"That's not why we're here. Quit whining."

I'm forced to swallow my retort when a gray-haired man with a cane approaches us with a welcoming smile.

"Akhyra! Long time no see."

"How have you been, Pastor Steve?" She asks in a surprisingly warm tone.

I notice that the pastor stops at a certain distance from us. Akhyra didn't have to extend her hand the way she usually does.

"Trying not to lose my patience with the kids," he jokes. "I see you're in great company."

"My father insisted on having someone shadow me while I'm here."

"Is he still terrorizing our national football team?"

"Indeed. This is one of his players, Lucian Moreno," she introduces me. "Sports critics agree that he's one of the best Winger of the Gold Cup."

Has she been doing research about me?

The pastor and I exchange greetings, and we briefly talk about the competition before he takes us on a tour of the place to show Akhyra the renovations done over the years. Pastor Steve doesn't seem puzzled by the fact that I'm the one walking by his side while Akhyra trails slightly behind us. 

As Pastor Steve guides us through the recent innovations at the orphanage—a bigger cafeteria, additional playrooms, and an expanded library—I get the opportunity to witness Akhyra's intriguing reaction. The genuine wonder overtaking her features contrasts sharply with the contempt I'm used to seeing on her face. She looks softened, whereas, for the past few days, she'd been like a raging tornado.

I get the strange impression of meeting Akhyra for the first time. Everything about her exudes grace and elegance, from the alluring sight of her brown wavy locs cascading down her back to the poise with which she carries herself.

She wears her deep green suit with the confidence of a woman accustomed to being admired. The open blazer reveals a cream lace bustier underneath. This top adds a touch of sensuality complementing the high-waisted trousers that enhance her elongated silhouette. One could never doubt that she is, in fact, a ballerina, given her miles-long legs.

I should stop staring before getting caught. That would be way too embarrassing. 

Pastor Steve announces the end of our tour by taking us to the backyard. "I decided to save the best for last," he declares.

We stop short when we arrive in front of an eight shaped pool with an inflatable slide. When Akhyra screeches behind me, I turn around startled only to find her jumping up and down like a little kid.

"I can't believe you really did it!" She yelps as she walks around the pool, her eyes sparkling like it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen in her whole life.

"The kids love it," Pastor Steve says fondly. "If we let them, they'd fall asleep in there."

He goes on to discuss the regulations he had to face as the pool was being built. The municipality almost stopped its construction at some point because it's too risky to have a pool in an orphanage. 

As he keeps on talking, I watch intrigued as Akhyra gets on her knees by the pool and begins to play with two plastic ducks floating on the water. 

"Do you want to get in?" Pastor Steve asks.

Akhyra looks up at him with her eyes shining like two mirrored suns. "Are you sure?" she asks back. 

"You donated this pool Akhyra, the least I can do is let you take a swim."

She immediately casts her shoes aside and takes a few steps back before jumping into the pool in a big splash, with her fancy Louis Vuitton suit on. It's definitely going to be ruined by the chlorine in the pool, but she doesn't seem to care. When Akhyra emerges from under the water, her long brown locs are glistening under the sunlight.

"We should give her some time alone," Pastor Steve says. "Let's visit the kids. I'm sure they'll be excited to see you."

It turns out that most of the kids from the orphanage are avid fans of football. I end up signing a bunch of t-shirts, balls, and other accessories. Then, under the general request, I sit with the kids to read them a story. Having grown with a little sister, I'd had the occasion to perfect my storytelling skills over the years. I'm delighted whenever the kids laugh in appreciation of my character impersonation. Time goes by in a flash, and too soon, it's already time to say goodbye.  

"Where's Akhyra?" I ask as Pastor Steve walks me back the way we came from this morning.

"She's already waiting for you in the car."

"What about the gifts we brought?"

"Staff members have already taken care of that."

"So Akhyra's not going to see the kids before we leave?"

"If you've known her for a while, I'm sure you're aware that she doesn't do well in crowded places."

"With all due respect, Pastor, I think that's an euphemism. She doesn't seem to like people at all."

He remains silent for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. "I keep praying that she'll finally be free of her demons, but the Lord works in his timeline, not ours." 

I keep thinking about his words as I drive back Akhyra to her father's house. She has on new clothes that were probably provided by staff of the orphanage. 

"What is it with you and pools?" I ask, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.

"The kids always wanted to have one," she shrugs. "So why not?"

She's clearly avoiding answering my question, so I try a different approach. "Pastor Steve seems to be the only human you tolerate. Is it your fear of the Lord?"

"He's literally my second Dad," she huffs. "He's no stranger."

"Your second Dad?" I ask intrigued.

"Well, he's a second Dad to all of us."

Just like that, it clicks, and I'm flabbergasted by that discovery. 

"You... grew up in that orphanage? I thought you didn't grow up in Haiti?"

"That was before Dad adopted me." 

"Oh... I wasn't aware you were adopted." 

"How come you didn't know that? It's on Google."

There it is, the annoying self-centered pitch in her voice.

"Why would I Google you?"

"Because I'm a global superstar."

"Does your gigantic ego ever suffocate you?"

"Does your mouth ever stop spewing nonsense?"

"Usually I take girls out before they get interested in my mouth."

Shit. Why did I say that? 

I glance at her in the rearview mirror, expecting a witty comeback, but instead, she puts on her earphones, signaling the end of the conversation. 

We spend the rest of the ride in silence. Against my will, images of Akhyra playing giddily with the plastic ducks at the pool keep popping in my mind. Today, I witnessed an unexpected facet of her. It's like her inner child came out. She might have more layers than she's letting the world see.