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[lasoldier]

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Act III ~ Marcelina

December 30

In the quiet early hours of the morning, Constantino Reynaldo, the Deputy Chief of Mission to the Spanish Ambassador, Marco Rey Santo, convened with Andrea Gedeon, the Executive Assistant to the Ambassador and his late wife, and her brother Vicente, the Head of Security, in addition to representatives from the Paris police department. Sitting back in his chair, Constantino unbuttoned the jacket to the formal three-piece black suit he wore. His brown curly shaggy hair reached his neck accenting his well-kempt beard.

“Good morning, everyone. Thank you for taking the time to join me this morning to discuss the details of this afternoon’s service for Mrs. Rey Santo. I reassured the Ambassador and his daughter, Marcelina Rey Santo, that everything was in order. This service is more than just a funeral, It is a testament to the legacy and impact Angelina Rey Santo has made not only in Paris or Spain but around the world.” Constantino said, hoping he conveyed the significance of this moment.

Andrea stood up from her chair and passed out a dossier that provided a detailed briefing for the service.

“Thank you, Tino. As discussed, the service will be broadcast live, necessitating coordination with major media outlets. The press release went out following the confirmation of the service date and reservation of the church in addition to the approval of our draft brief by the Deputy Chief. The media schedule for Mr. Rey Santo and Marcelina has been confirmed to follow the New Year to give the Ambassador and his daughter time to grieve their loss. Vinny, can you confirm security’s efforts to manage and secure the press area to ensure privacy protocols are adhered to?” Andrea asked tearfully. She never imagined her work would encompass such a task. “Designated zones have been set up for the media and public attendees on the church site. We have coordinated with police for the planned route for the procession and barricades have been erected to deter the public from venturing on the thoroughfare and disrupting the caravan. We’ve also planned for additional personnel to manage crowd control and assist with any security concerns that might arise. I don’t anticipate any incidents, everyone loved Angelina so much.” Vincent reported. “Thank you, Vinny, we still expect significant public attendance and will need to manage traffic effectively,” Constantino replied.

Captain Dubois stood up from his chair and presented a rolled-up map which he unrolled across the center of the conference room table and pointed to the planned route.

“Thank you, Chief. The route from the Spanish Embassy to Saint-Bernard de la Chapelle will pass several key intersections utilizing Rue La Fayette. We will temporarily close Rue Saint-Mathieu and Saint-Bruno around the church with a secured route down Rue Affe allowing the caravan to park in front of the church.” he indicated, tracing the parallel streets that ran west and east of the Church of Saint-Bernard de la Chapelle with his finger. “We have officers at each junction to redirect traffic and assist in crowd management. Additionally, we have coordinated Régie Autonome des Transports Parisiens Parisian Autonomous Transport Administration to reroute buses and trams as needed.” the captain explained. He gave Constantino an appreciative nod as he took his seat once more. "Let's confirm with the arrival and reception of guests. We need a smooth process, especially given the high-profile nature of the attendees.” Constantino said looking to Andrea who turned to another page of the briefing. "We will have dignitaries from the US, Germany, and Spain in attendance including the Parisian Prime Minister Jean Castex and Mayor Anne Hidalgo. We have them scheduled to be the first to arrive. Ushers will guide them and their staff directly to their reserved seats. We have a team that will be on hand to greet the remaining guests while you, myself, and Vinny accompany the Ambassador and Marcelina.” Andrea explained as she flipped to another page filled with names and photographs, “Most, if not all, the guests have confirmed including, Irene and Kenneth Esper, Dr. Amy Clearwater, Mr. Clearwater, and their daughter, River, are confirmed to attend. Miles Luisante is confirmed to attend including his wife, Rhian Luisante, who will provide the Entrance Hymn, and their daughter Dawn Luisante who will perform an original song she has written specifically for Mrs. Rey Santo. Cynthia Claystone, CEO of Infinity Corporation, and her CGRO with Infinity Affairs, Sienna Brandwick, are slated to attend as well.” She explained before flipping to the next page, “While the guests await the arrival of the Ambassador and his daughter from the procession, the Paris Philharmonic will perform a selection of classical pieces such as ‘And the Waltz Goes On’, ‘Richter: On the Nature of Daylight’, ‘Love Story’ arranged by Richard Hayman, and ‘La petite fille de la mar’ all of which were favorites of Mrs. Rey Santo.” Andrea said turning to another page in the briefing, “Upon arrival of the procession, Maria Santo will be on hand to greet her son and granddaughter while we work with the church staff to prepare for the start of the ceremony. Father Guillermo will bless the casket before it is brought into the church and Mrs. Luisante will perform ‘Hymne à l'amour’ for the Entrance Hymn. Father Guillermo will lead us with opening prayer before transitioning into the Liturgy of the Word. The first reading will be read by Marcelina and the second by Dr. Clearwater. Mr. Rey Santo will give his eulogy and Aurora d'Amour will perform a song dedication afterward before we transition into the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Lastly, will be the commendation and farewell before we depart to Père Lachaise Cemetery for the burial rite.” Andrea said summing up the briefing. “Thank you, Andrea. We are adjourned. I will go and check on Marcelina. Andrea, Vicente, I leave the rest to you to prepare for our departure.” He spoke. Andre and Vicente nodded affirmatively.

Everyone rose out of their chairs and left the conference room alone or in pairs to have small discussions to help them prepare for a solemn day not just for them but for all of Paris. Constantino watched as they disappeared down the hall before going down another hall himself.

“Today, Paris gathers to bid farewell to Angelina Rey Santo, the esteemed wife of the Spanish Ambassador, Marco Santo. Mrs. Rey Santo sadly passed away on December 23rd after suffering from a brain aneurysm just days prior. Her funeral will be held this afternoon at Saint-Bernard de la Chapelle. Mrs. Rey Santo was a devoted wife and mother, known for her tireless charitable work and cultural diplomacy, Angelina was a beloved figure both in Spain and Paris. She dedicated her life to improving the lives of children through numerous philanthropic efforts and promoting Spanish culture around the world. Her service is expected to be attended by diplomatic dignitaries, celebrities, family, and close friends honoring her remarkable life and contributions. Our correspondent is live at Saint-Bernard de la Chapelle, where the funeral service is about to begin. We will be bringing you live updates throughout the day. Our thoughts and deepest condolences are with the ambassador and his family during this difficult time. On behalf of myself and France 24, we extend our heartfelt sympathies to the Santo family. I'm Annette Young, thank you for joining us." Annette Young announced.

Marcelina stared at her hazy reflection in the blank screen of the flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall facing the desk of the Cultural Attaché where Marcelina was sitting. The Cultural Attaché Office was her mother’s station at the Spanish Embassy. Breathing softly, Marcelina felt her chest heaving in rhythm with her slow, controlled breathing. She wore a long-sleeved white midi dress. Her dark hair brown cascaded in deep waves along her shoulders and down her back. A white, lace mantilla was pinned to her hair falling from her hairline along the back of her head like a half-veil.

Her dark brown eyes were cast downward looking to the antique rug that her mother insisted on bringing all the way from Madrid when they moved to Paris.

‘La alfombra de la casa teje la calidez del hogar, Marcelina. The house rug weaves the warmth of the home, Marcelina.’

Marcelina remembered her mother saying to her after she asked why she insisted on bringing the rug with them to Paris for her new office in the embassy. She could have had any rug she wanted, Marcelina thought.

‘Mija. My Bisabuela and my Tia Abuelas hand-knotted this rug in 1945. It was right around the time my mother was born. When my mother was pregnant with me, Bisabuela gave her the rug and what did she say?’ Angelina asked her daughter as she unrolled the large rug onto the bare floor of the office. ‘La alfombra de la casa teje la calidez del hogar.’ Marcelina and Angelina said in unison laughing together.

Angelina stood up. Marcelina marveled at her mother wearing a white ruffle Baptist sleeve dress and her long flowing brown hair catching the sunlight from the office window, her bare feet padding the bare floor as she walked about the room observing the rug before standing next to her daughter. Angelina wrapped her arm around Marcelina resting her cheek atop her daughter’s head and rubbing her shoulder lovingly.

“Your Abuela gave me the rug when I was pregnant with you.” Angelina said kissing Marcelina’s head and resting her cheek comfortably atop her head again, “And she said the same thing to me.” She said gently with a smile looking at the rug again. “This rug represents our family. Everywhere we have gone from Madrid, Buenos Aires, Berlin, and Washington D.C. This rug was the one thing I wanted with us wherever we were.” Angelina said warmly. Marcelina wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist as they stared at the rug in the empty office.

Marcelina’s eyes traced the hand-knotted wool that wove beiges with turquoise, green, and dusty pink into patterns depicting an oatmeal field adorned with delicate, even slightly faded, carefully drawn botanical motifs, and birds enclosed around with a decorative border. Her eyes stopped at the pointed toes of her white Anouk Jimmy Choo heels. Tears dropped onto the supple white leather of her heels. Marcelina sniffed looking up from her feet. She turned from where she was leaning against her mother’s desk and reached for the nearby Kleenex box grabbing a tissue. She dabbed under her eyelids gently to keep from smudging her mascara. She sniffed once more and looked at the desk noticing the silver frame that her mother kept. Picking it up Marcelina’s teary eyes glistened as she gently smiled at the picture of her parents touching the picture lovingly.

A knock on the door startled her.

“Blanca?” Constantino’s voice rang out from the opposite side of the closed door.

Marcelina set the picture down, smoothed her dress, and adjusted the mantilla both of which mantilla belonged to her mother. The door opened and Constantino entered his dark eyes met with Marcelina’s. Marcelina sighed in relief that he was the one to come and get her.

“Tino, no me llames así. No con papá cerca. Tino don’t call me that. Not with Papa around.” She said protesting his use of calling her by the name of her favorite flower. She watched as he closed the door and approached her with a gentle smile taking her in his arms. “Eres mi flor blanca, Blanca. You are my white flower, Blanca.” He replied looking down at her. A stern look crossed Marcelina’s face and she pressed a finger into his chest hard. “You’re Papa’s Deputy Chief of Mission, Constantino Armonioso Reynaldo!” She scolded him making him back away from her. Her stern gaze softened as he feigned being hurt by her finger pressing into his chest. He gave her a playful smile which faded at the sight of Marcelina’s forlorn face. “Papa needs you now more than ever.” She said sadly, “Without…Mama...” she couldn’t finish and was overcome covering her face as she broke into tears.

Constantino reacted quickly and took Marcelina in his arms shushing her gently and comfortingly.

“Shh, Lina. Está bien. Estoy aquí. Shhh, Lina. It’s okay. I’m here.” He whispered. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Marcelina said sorrowfully stepping away from Constantino. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes again, “How is Papa?” she asked. Marcelina had barely seen her father who stayed at the Embassy late to work and came home late smelling of Brandy de Jerez when Marcelina found him sleeping on the couch hugging a framed photo of their family. Sometimes he didn’t even go home and stayed at the Embassy overnight. Constantino looked at Marcelina solemnly. “He’s been working a lot since…” his voice trailed off not wanting to upset Marcelina any more than she already was. Marcelina nodded understanding what Constantino was saying. “Where is he now?” she asked reluctantly. “In his office,” Constantino answered watching Marcelina glance at her Piaget gold watch, “It’s almost time, isn’t it?” Marcelina asked. “Yes. Andrea and Vicente are making final preparations for the caravan.” Constantino responded. “I’ll get Papa. We’ll meet you in the lobby.” Marcelina said turning to leave the office. Constantino grasped Marcelina’s hand in his, the two of them locking eyes again. “Did you want me to get him for you?” he asked her. Marcelina thought for a moment and shook her head, “I can handle it.” She responded going to leave only for Constantino to hold her hand firmly preventing her from leaving. “I’m here for you…Lina.” He said caressing her hand. Marcelina smiled gently, “Thank you Tino…” she said as she left the office her hand trailing slowly out of Constantino’s until she disappeared from the office her heels clicking on the marble floor growing fainter with each step as she made her way to her father’s office.

The clink of melting the ice resounded throughout Marco’s office. The cubes in the half-drunken glass of Brandy de Jerez slipped around and away from each other as they perspired with a cool film of water while swimming in the brown liquor. Marco’s hand idly grasped the glass while the other was occupied with a silver picture frame that held a picture of him and his late wife Angelina on their wedding day.

His thumb caressed the glass running along the length of Angelina’s. A weary, forlorn look had taken hold of his face replacing the calm, suave, professional one that he wore throughout his hectic day at the Embassy.

He remembered when he and Angelina were being interviewed during the beginning of his political career.

‘Monsieur Rey Santo, tell us what married life is like for you and Madame Rey Santo met.’ the interviewer asked.

The photographer snapped a timely photo of the couple looking at each other admirably, and lovingly. Marco beamed with pride and smiled to his wife who returned his smile with equal fervor. Marco turned to the interviewer his arm draped around Angelina's shoulders.

"From the moment I first saw Angelina, I knew she was the love of my life, and I vowed to hold onto her forever," he said with a grin. “Remember that tiny little bistro in Madrid?” He asked looking at Angelina. “The one with the red leather booths.” She asked smiling placing a hand on his chest, “You were wearing that beautiful white dress, it was..." he paused, "Summer." He finished. "It was a hot day in Madrid, so we had vanilla ice cream," Marco said with hearty laughing. Angelina smiled and laughed as she remembered what happened that day. "We were so busy talking, the ice cream melted!" she said looking at her husband. Angelina sighed happily resting her hand on Marco’s leg and staring into his eyes as if it were just the two of them alone. A sentimental look crossed her face, her eyes tearing up. “And then?” Marco asked. “Oh! The owners!” Angelina exclaimed wiping her eyes. Marco laughed. “The owners were a married couple, and they were watching us the entire time!” Marco explained smiling. “They came over and took a picture of us. They said we would remember that date for the rest of our lives.” Angelina said. “They weren’t wrong,” Marco said lovingly as he reached into his pocket pulling out the Polaroid. Angelina took the picture in her hand and laughed pressing her hand to her chest in disbelief. “Marco, no puedo creer que lo hayas guardado todo este tiempo! Marco, I can't believe you kept it all this time!” she said laughing happily.

Angelina's laughter echoed in Marco’s mind seemingly filling the silence that had taken up residence in his office. Marco raised his glass and sipped the amber liquid resentfully.

“Why did you leave me here alone, Angel?” he whispered to the silence.

He set the glass down and sniffed, rubbing at his damp eyes. He tossed the frame into a nearby draw closing it with frustration! He grasped the glass again finishing the brandy in one hungry gulp hoping the liquid would fill the void he felt in his! He knew it didn’t matter how many drinks he had it was in vain and a temporary fix to his pain, but he reached for the decanter, ready to add another drink to the several he had already. That was until he heard a knock on the door. Marco stopped before the liquid could pour into the glass and looked at the door watching it open through the drunken haze that had blurred his vision. When Marcelina entered the room, Marco sat back in astonishment.

“Ay, dios mío…Oh my god…” he murmured covering his mouth. Marcelina stood there confused not realizing that to her father in his drunken state, she looked like her mother wearing her favorite white dress! “Angel…” he said tearfully. For just a moment he thought Angelina had returned to him. “Papa?” Marcelina asked.

Marcelina’s voice had a sobering effect on Marco. A perplexed look crossed his face as he lowered his hand. His vision blurred to the point where he couldn’t see Angelina anymore just a white blur. Marco blinked again and his vision cleared, and he realized he had mistaken his daughter for his dead wife. He was amazed by how much Marcelina looked like her mother and it broke his heart.

“Marcelina…” Marco said dejectedly, noticing she was wearing Angelina’s mantilla and dress. Angelina is gone, he thought to himself and cleared his throat wishing he could pour another glass of brandy, “What is it?” he asked brusquely sinking further into his chair.

His tone caught Marcelina off guard. He never talked to her that way. Then, she caught a whiff of the brandy. A weary sigh escaped Marcelina as she walked up to her father’s desk picking up his phone and watching him sit in his chair despondently. She hated to see her father in such a state. Raising the phone to her ear, Marcelina dialed the kitchen.

“Buenas tardes Luisa. ¿Podría traerle al Embajador un espresso triple, por favor? Sí. Gracias. Good afternoon, Luisa. Could you bring the Ambassador a triple espresso, please? Yes. Thank you.” Marcelina said gracefully and hung up the phone.

Marcelina’s hand remained on the phone looking at the empty glass with melting ice. She looked up from the glass to her father who began to doze in his chair. She observed the half-empty decanter of Brandy de Jerez on the desk. How much did he drink? She wondered. Her grief gripped her heart again causing it to ache not just for the loss of her mother but for the state her father was in after her passing. Marcelina’s hand slipped away from the phone, and she circled the desk standing in front of her father who began to snore gently. Marcelina stroked his cheek lovingly seeing how peaceful he was.

“Ay papá… ¿qué puedo hacer para ayudarte? Oh papa…what can I do to help you?” she asked in a hush voice.

Marcelina combed her hands through his disheveled dark hair to style it and make it more appropriate. She noticed he had a few more gray strands of hair which comingled with the rest of his dark hair. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but he seemed thinner to her as well. She knelt before him looking at him sleep peacefully noticing his unbuttoned collar and loose tie to the formal black suit that he was wearing to the funeral. While her father slept, Marcelina buttoned up his collar. She straightened and tightened his black tie patting it gently over his pressed, white dress shirt. A knock on the door woke Marco up abruptly.

Bewildered, Marco looked around the office and looked down at his daughter kneeling before her. He remembered her doing the same thing as a little girl when he fell asleep at his desk in the past. He smiled weakly at her.

“Hola, mi querida hija...Hello, my darling daughter...” he said wearily. Marcelina smiled at her father with teary eyes. “Hola, papa.” She said happily, glad that he was back to his normal self. She cleared her throat and stood up, “Pasa, Luisa. Come in, Luisa.” She spoke. Luisa entered the room carrying a small tray with an espresso cup resting on a saucer. “Buenas tardes, Embajador. Señorita Marcelina. Good afternoon, Ambassador. Miss Marcelina.” Luisa said setting the cup on the desk. “Garcias, Luisa.” Marcelina said to Luisa. Luisa nodded with a polite smile and left the room. Marcelina turned to her father. “It’s time, papa.” She said softly smoothing the lapel of his jacket. “I know mija…” Marco said sadly and sighed before getting up from his office chair buttoning his suit jacket. Marcelina picked up the espresso cup handing it to her father. Marco sipped the coffee watching Marcelina adjust his tie within his jacket and smoothed his lapels. Marcelina locked eyes with her father. “Are you feeling better?” she asked hoping the coffee would help wake him. Marco took another swig of his coffee. “Sí, mucho mejor, mi querida hija. Yes, much better, my darling daughter.” He replied setting the empty cup down, clearing his throat. He adjusted his jacket and stood tall, “How do I look?” he asked anxiously looking to Marcelina who smiled at him lovingly as she stroked his hair. “You look amazing, Papa. Mama would be proud.” She said softly.

Marco’s face broke as he wept grasping Marcelina in a desperate hug. Marcelina hugged her father tightly and cried with him, her hands rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Está bien, Papá. Está bien. It’s okay, Papa. It’s okay.” She said softly. Marco stood up straight and she wiped away his tears as he looked at her woefully. Resting her hands on her father’s chest she looked at him comfortingly. “It’s time to say goodbye.” She said looking at him with a look of reassurance. Marco nodded apprehensively. “I’m ready, mija…” he said. Marcelina took her father’s hand in hers. “Everyone is waiting.” She said leading her father out of his office.

Her arms linked with her father’s; Marcelina entered the lobby of the Embassy. Waiting in the rotunda stood the embassy staff. Marco looked at the teary and sad faces of his team who were all mourning and sharing his loss. Marco swallowed unsure of what to do next. Sensing his trepidation, Marcelina looked to the staff and offered a warm smile which gave them a sense of comfort in their grief.

“Dejanos rezar. Let us pray.” She said in a calm voice.

The staff responded gratefully by bowing their heads and clasping their hands together. Marcelina glanced at her father who had closed his eyes as well. Marcelina closed her eyes she felt as if she were at a loss for words but as if springing from her heart, she spoke.

“Querido Dios, Hoy recordamos con profundo amor a nuestra querida madre y esposa, un verdadero ángel en nuestras vidas. Ella, quien incansablemente y de manera desinteresada, se entregó a la comunidad, iluminando nuestros días con su bondad y generosidad. Aunque ya no está físicamente con nosotros, sentimos su presencia en cada acto de amor y en cada rayo de esperanza que nos envuelve. Ella vive en nuestros corazones, vigilándonos y protegiéndonos desde el cielo, encarnando el verdadero significado de su nombre, un ángel eterno. Te pedimos, Señor, que nos des la fortaleza para seguir su ejemplo de amor y servicio, y que su espíritu continúe guiándonos y bendiciéndonos en cada paso de nuestro camino. Amén. Dear God, today we remember with deep love our beloved mother and wife, a true angel in our lives. She, who tirelessly and selflessly, gave herself to the community, illuminating our days with her kindness and generosity. Although she is no longer physically with us, we feel her presence in every act of love and in every ray of hope that surrounds us. She lives in our hearts, watching over us and protecting us from heaven, embodying the true meaning of her name, an eternal angel. We ask you, Lord, to give us the strength to follow her example of love and service, and that her spirit continues to guide and bless us every step of our way. Amen.” Marcelina prayed. “Amen.” Everyone responded in unison.

Marcelina opened her eyes to see teary faces smiling at her, even her father.

“Eso fue…maravilloso…mi hija. That was…wonderful…my daughter.” Marco managed between tears. Marcelina wiped his tears and gently raised his chin, so his eyes met hers, “Estoy contigo en cada paso del camino. I’m with you every step of the way.” She spoke. Marco took a deep breath, taking strength in her words, and nodded firmly. Vicente approached the the Ambassador and his daughter. “The caravan is ready. Andrea and the Deputy Chief will accompany you in the car that will follow the hearse. I will accompany the security team in the rear SUV.” He explained as he escorted them outside the embassy to a black Volvo XC90, “Hector, will be your driver.” he said as he opened the passenger door for the Ambassador to sit up front. He opened the rear door for Marcelina, Andrea, and Constantino to sit in the back. “Gracias, Vinny,” Constantino said gratefully while Marco nodded in silent approval.

Marcelina looked out the dark-tinted windows of the SUV to see the dark SUVs in front and back, the blue and red lights indicating where the police detail was located as part of the caravan before her eyes fell on the hearse before them. Her heart sank knowing her mother was lying in the white coffin that could be seen through the white-curtained window.

The cars’ engines idled as security got into their respective vehicles and the motorcycle engines of the police rumbled as they waited to depart. Onlookers had gathered on the street and held picture signs with various messages.

Marcelina rolled down her window and waved tearfully to the crowds acknowledging their love and grief. The crowd cheered gratefully.

‘We love you, Marcelina! We support you, Ambassador!’ they cried out as Marcelina rolled the window back up taking a breath in awe of the impact her mother’s life made on the people of Paris.

The caravan slowly departed from the Embassy taking Avenue Marceau towards the River Seine. Onlookers lined the thoroughfares, showing their support and respect with flowers, pictures, and signs. Marcelina thought back on all the work her mother did as Cultural Attaché as part of the Spanish Embassy in Paris, she became known for her compassionate efforts around the world. She was an ambassador for UNICEF, Save the Children, and SOS Children's Villages and supported child organizations such as Fundación ANAR, Les Enfants de l'Arc-en-Ciel, and the Children's National Hospital. Angelina was likened to the Princess Diana of the 21st Century.

‘Recuerda, Marcelina. La inocencia de los niños es un regalo puro que nos recuerda la belleza de la vida. Remember, Marcelina. The innocence of children is a pure gift that reminds us of the beauty of life.‘ Marcelina recalled her mother telling her when they were supporting a children’s event.

The procession continued and passed through Place de la Concorde, one of the major public squares in Paris heading towards Rue de Rivoli. Many onlookers and mourners had gathered showing their support and grief for Angelina as the caravan passed.

Turning onto Rue de Rivoli, the procession passed by the Louvre Museum where more people were gathered. Marco looked about seemingly overwhelmed by the amount of people that showed up for them. Marcelina reached from her seat and touched her father’s shoulder lovingly.

“Estoy aquí, papa. I’m here, Papa.” She said comfortingly. Marco nodded again and swallowed as he took his daughter’s hand, kissing it softly. “Gracias, mi querida hija. Gracias. Thank you, my darling daughter. Thank you.” He breathed holding her hand to his cheek. Marcelina’s heart ached for her father.

Rue La Fayette gave them a much-needed reprieve as they traveled its length through several districts of Paris. Small groups were gathered and scattered here and there throughout the districts they passed. The sorrow, love, and support for Angelina was heartfelt from the various hanging signs, pictures, and swathes of flower bunches that decorated the barricades.

The hearse and the accompanying caravan soon arrived at the Church of Saint-Bernard de la Chapelle. Crowds of people filled the barricaded streets of Rue Saint-Mathieu and Saint-Bruno all them of holding signs, pictures, and flowers to honor Angelina’s memory. Saint Bernard Square across from the church hosted more mourners watching as the procession arrived. Hector and Vicente quickly exited their vehicles to let out Marco, Marcelina, Andrea, and Constantino.

Marcelina linked in her father’s once more as they stood in silence listening to the cries of the onlookers in the distance. Some were too grief-stricken to speak while others cried out Angelina’s name while reaching for the hearse desperately. Media reporters stood with their camera crews as they reported the arrival of the Rey Santos. Photographers snapped pictures, their bulbs bright even in the daylight as the Ambassador, his daughter, and their entourage made their way towards the church entrance.

At the entrance stood an older woman waiting for them patiently. Her face was creased with wrinkles, but they did not make her any less beautiful. Her smile was familiar, warm, and comforting. She wore a dark dress accented with a white mosaic print along the shoulders and sleeves. The same mosaic print ran the length of her long, dark skirt. White enamel earrings dangled from her dainty ears partially hidden beneath her short, silvery hair.

Marco and Marcelina approached the woman who had her hands clasped in front of her, her smile not fading as tears welled in her eyes. The woman gave Constantino, Vicente, and Andrea a warm hug as they entered church leaving her with Marco and Marcelina. The woman looked lovingly at Marcelina, her smile full of affection and pride for the young woman who stood before her.

“¿Has sido fuerte por tu Papá? Have you been strong for your Papa?” she asked reaching and touching the underside of Marcelina’s chin who couldn’t but smile at the woman as tears streamed down her face. The woman wiped away Marcelina’s tears. “Si, Abuela María. Yes, Grandma Maria.” Marcelina responded watching Maria adjust the mantilla Marcelina was wearing feeling its lace between her soft fingertips. “Te ves hermosa con esta mantilla. Tan hermosa como tu madre cuando la usaba. You look beautiful in this mantilla. As beautiful as your mother when she wore it.” Maria said gasping as she fought to hold back tears. Maria turned to look at her son. “Mi corazón. Mi único hijo. My heart. My only son.” She said lovingly looking deep into his dark eyes that were blood-shot and so very weary. “Mijo, Llevas una carga pesada. You carry a heavy burden.” she said wisely.

Maria watched her son search her eyes for sanctuary, for comfort. He struggled to find the words. Maria raised a finger and shushed him resting her hands gently on the sides of his head.

“Cuando tu Papá se fue al Cielo ¿Qué te dije? When your Papa went to Heaven, what did I tell you?” she said softly. Marco closed his eyes his hands grasping his mother’s wrists as she held his head in her gentle grasp. “The only way out is through….” he whispered somberly.

Maria swallowed her cries, but the tears flowed down her face remembering Marco’s father Martin, the love of her life, and how he left this world suddenly leaving her to face her remaining days without him. She knew her son’s pain all too well.

“Feel the sadness, mijo…and the pain. Let it all in…. then let it all go." She said with a shaky voice raising his face to look at her.

Her eyes searched her son’s eyes imploringly she did not want him to bear this burden alone as she did. Marco looked sorrowfully into his mother’s seeing the same pain he felt. Marco felt his fists release and the wave of grief wash over him as he finally accepted that Angelina was gone as much as he couldn’t bear to be without her, she was no longer with him.

“Marco…” Maria said calmly taking his hands in her hands in hers and hugging them to her chest.

Marco could feel the beating of his mother’s heart. Marco fell to his knees defeatedly in front of his mother his hands falling from hers and gripping her dress like he did when he was just a boy.

“Mi ángel se ha ido...Mama… My angel is gone…Mama…” he said in anguish.

Marco hid his face in the folds of his mother’s dress as he wept. Marcelina fell to her knees wrapping her arms around her father.

“Papa!” she said sadly burying her face in his arm and crying with him. “Mi amores…My loves…” Maria wept taking them both in her arms and hugging them close to her waist.

Maria watched sorrowfully as the pallbearers marched past her from the entrance to the hearse where Angelina’s coffin waited for them. They opened the back of the hearse which elicited painful, melancholic cries from the watching crowd as the pallbearers revealed a white casket accented in gold. A wreath of Casablanca Lilies, Marcelina and her mother’s favorite flower, rested upon the top of the casket as the pallbearer’s life the casket and escorted it to the entrance.

“Come, mis amores.” Maria said bringing Marco and Marcelina to stand with her.

The trio held onto each other watching Father Guillermo walk out the doors of the church as the pallbearers approached. Taking a small vial of holy water, the Priest sprinkled the water across the top of the casket and flowers. The voices of the choir echoed from inside the church singing the first lines of ‘Danos un Corazón’ (Give us a Heart).

‘Danos un corazón, grande para amar, danos un corazón, fuerte para luchar. Give us a heart, big enough to love, give us a heart, strong enough to fight.’ “Thank you, Father,” Maria said softly.

Father Guillermo approached them, allowing the pallbearers to guide the coffin into the church. Guillermo took Maria’s hands in his and looked at Marco and Marcelina.

“We share in your loss. You all have helped us so much. I am humbled that you allow us to honor, Angelina’s life and legacy here. This church and the community have benefited greatly from her service.” He stated with a gentle smile patting Maria’s hand comfortingly, “Come…it is time.” He said gesturing to them inside the church.

Maria linked arms with her son and Marcelina did the same on the opposite side and followed Father Guillermo inside. Upon entering the sanctuary, the family was greeted by a multitude of friends, family, celebrities, and dignitaries who stood from their chairs on both sides of the aisle as they walked down the aisle. Marcelina eyed Constantino, Vicente, and Andrea up front waiting for them much to her relief.

The guests watched on respectfully as pallbearers escorted the casket down the nave aisle. The Paris Philharmonic began to play a beautiful melody as Rhian Luisante entered from the side aisle of the church standing to the right of the transept. Rhian wore a black sparkling gown with a plunging neckline, her long dirty blonde hair pulled back into a stylish bun. In her hands, she held a mic as the music played. She looked at the large print of Angelina and read the plaque below.

In Loving Memory…

Angelina Rey Espiridión Santo

August 1, 1968 - December 23, 2020

Turning to the audience with tears filling her eyes, Rhian raised the mic to her lips.

“The song I’m about to sing is very special.” She said softly doing her best to maintain her composure, “I sang this song for Marco and Angelina at their vow renewal celebration.” She said proudly smiling at Marco and gesturing to him, “The love you two shared inspired all of us and I know Angelina would want us to remember that love like that, is eternal and everlasting…always.” She said in a hush, emotional voice as she brought her free hand to her chest in hopes of calming her heart that ached for the loss of her dear friend. Rhian breathed and closed her eyes as she sang.

Le ciel bleu sur nous peut s'effondrer

Et la Terre peut bien s'écrouler

Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes

Je me fous du monde entier

The blue sky can tumble down upon us

And the earth can also collapse

It doesn't matter, if you love me

I don't care about the entire world

Rhian’s voice rang out the far reaches of the church accompanied by the melodies played by the Philharmonic. Tears fell down Rhian’s face knowing how much the song she sang meant to Angelina and how it embodied the testament to her love for Marco.

Tant qu'l'amour innondera mes matins

Tant qu'mon corps frémira sous tes mains

Peu m'importe les problèmes

Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes

As long as love floods my mornings

As long as my body trembles beneath your hand

These problems don't matter

My love, since you love me

Miles watched his wife sing, astounded by the sheer magnitude of Rhian’s voice and the emotions she felt singing it. Tears welled in his eyes. He felt a mixture of love and sadness for the loss of a friend. He couldn’t imagine what Marco was dealing with nor could he imagine his life with Rhian or his daughter.

J'irais jusqu'au bout du monde

Je me ferais teindre en blonde

Si tu me le demandais

J'irais décrocher la Lune

J'irais voler la fortune

Si tu me le demandais

Je renierais ma patrie

Je renierais mes amis

Si tu me le demandais

On peut bien rire de moi

Je ferais n'importe quoi

Si tu me le demandais

I would go to the end of the earth

I would dye my hair blonde

I would go take down the moon

I would go steal a fortune

If you asked it of me

I would disown my country

I would disown my friends

If you asked it of me

People can have a good laugh at me

I would do anything

If you asked it of me

Feeling a gentle warmth wash over her, the ache in her heart subsided, Rhian gestured to her daughter as she sang. Dawn watched her mother in awe and inspiration hoping one day to be like her mother vocally.

Si un jour, la vie t'arrache à moi

Si tu meurs, que tu sois loin de moi

Peu m'importe si tu m'aimes

Car moi je mourrais aussi

If one day life tears you from me

If you die that you be far from me

It doesn't matter, if you love me

Because, me, I will die also

Tears fell from Marco’s face as Rhian sang, he remembered Angelina singing this verse to him as they danced after renewing their vows. She asked Rhian to sing the song one more time so they could dance longer and he remembered her singing the lyrics to him. The lyrics had new meaning to Marco now and he felt as if a part of him was dying that day watching the pallbearers rest the coffin in front of the altar before marching single file down the side aisles of the church.

Nous aurons pour nous l'éternité

Dans le bleu de toute l'immensité

Dans le ciel, plus de problème

Mon amour, crois-tu qu'on s'aime?

Dieu réunit ceux qui s'aiment

We will have eternity for ourselves

In the great blue immensity

In the sky, no more problems

My love, do you believe we love each other

God reunites those who love each other

Marcelina found comfort in the final lyrics as Rhian brought the song to a close. She knew that her mother was heaven and that one day they would be together again. She sat down with her father and grandmother, the three of them holding hands as the congregation applauded Rhian’s performance. Rhian passed the mic to one of the attendants and immediately sat with her husband who took her in her arms. Rhian sorrowfully collapsed in Miles’ arms crying silently against his chest. Dawn rested her head on her father’s arm tears welling in her eyes. She took her mother’s hand in hers feeling her squeeze it tightly.

Father Guillermo approached his lectern looking out to the congregation peacefully as the applause subsided. Soft crying and sniffing could be heard about the church.

“My children…Today, we gather in the House of the Lord to honor and remember our beloved Angelina Rey Espiridon Santo. In this moment of profound grief and sadness, we seek comfort and hope in the faith we share. We know that even as our tears fall and our hearts feel heavy, God offers us His love and His peace. Angelina was a shining light in our lives, a woman whose kindness, compassion, and dedication touched everyone who knew her. Her love for her family, her devotion to her work, and her unwavering faith in God are a testament to a life lived fully and with purpose. The Lord tells us in the Gospel of John, ‘Yo soy la resurrección y la vida. El que cree en mí, aunque muera, vivirá. I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, though he dies, yet shall he live.’ We trust in this divine promise, knowing that Angelina now rests in the loving arms of our Heavenly Father. Her spirit lives on in the eternal presence of God, free from pain and suffering. In this time of mourning, let us remember the words of Psalm 23: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters." May these words bring us comfort and strength. Angelina, in her life and now in her eternal rest, is guided by the love and mercy of God. To Angelina's family, especially her husband Marco and her daughter Marcelina, we offer our prayers and our support. May you find solace in the precious memories you shared and in the certainty that Angelina is at peace with our Lord. Let us pray together, asking God to grant us peace in our hearts and the strength to carry on, knowing that one day we will be reunited with our loved ones in eternal glory. Que el Señor bendiga y guarde a cada uno de ustedes en este tiempo de tristeza. May the Lord bless and keep each of you in this time of sadness. May Angelina's love continue to inspire us all to live with love and compassion. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen.” he said. “Amen.” The crowd responded. “And now, Angelina’s daughter, Marcelina Rey Santo, will provide the First Reading as part of the Liturgy of the Word.” Father Guillermo said.

Andrea reached into her bag and gave Marcelina her childhood bible that her grandmother gave her. Marcelina smiled gratefully at Andrea and took her father’s hand in hers giving it a soft squeeze for comfort before she got up from her chair.

Setting the bible on the lectern, Marcelina looked out the congregation nervously. She opened the bible to the pages bookmarked by the red faded ribbon, she could still smell her grandmother’s perfume on the worn pages. Marcelina looked at the highlighted passage she planned to read. Her brown eyes looked out the crowd and she cleared her throat.

“My beloved friends, family, and loved ones. I’d like to thank you on behalf of myself and my father for coming to honor my mother’s life. I know she is smiling down on us today. For the first reading I would like to read the first letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians in First Corinthians, Chapter 13 verses 4 through 7. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Siempre protege, siempre confía, siempre espera, siempre persevera. Always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. Pero la mayor de ellas es el amor. But the greatest of them is love. In these words, we see a reflection of my mother. Her love was always patient and kind, siempre generosa y llena de compasión, always generous and full of compassion. She embodied the spirit of love that Saint Paul speaks of. A love that never fails…” she said her bottom lip trembling as tears filled her eyes and she took a breath, “As we remember her today, let us carry forward her legacy of love and charity. Let us be inspired by her example to love others as she loved us, con todo nuestro corazón, with all our hearts.” She finished.

The air was filled with a palpable sense of reverence, enhancing the solemn atmosphere of the funeral service.

The cantor stepped forward, his voice clear and resonant as he introduced the Psalm,

"The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want." His voice carried through the church, inviting the congregation to find solace in these familiar and comforting words.

As he sang the response, the congregation joined in, their voices unified in a gentle chorus that filled the vaulted space with a wave of communal prayer. The cantor then proceeded with the verses of the Psalm, each line emphasizing God’s guidance and the promise of peace.

"The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.” The congregation repeated after each refrain.

Father Guillermo stood at the lectern after the final refrain allowing the congregation to settle in a moment of quiet reflection before addressing the congregation once more.

"As we reflect on the assurance provided by the Psalm, let us continue to seek comfort in the words of Scripture. Dr. Amy Clearwater, a close friend and confidant of our beloved Mrs. Rey Santo, will now share the second reading." He spoke.

Dr. Clearwater, dressed in a dark, well-tailored pinstripe suit with perfectly hemmed pants, got up from her seat carrying her bible with her to the lectern. Setting the bible down she reached into her pocket pulling out her reading glasses while she opened the bible to the passage she intended to read. She looked over her glasses to the congregation before clearing her throat and tucking a tuft of her short blonde hair behind her ear. Dr. Clearwater paused, gathering her thoughts before looking out to the congregation her expression solemn yet deeply compassionate.

“My dear friends, we gather here today to remember and celebrate the life of a beloved friend, mother, and wife. I stand here today, not just as a doctor, or a wife, or a mother but as someone who was profoundly privileged to know Angelina not just as a patient, or a like-minded colleague, but a dear, dear friend. These past few days, I have grappled with the sudden loss that took her from us. I've reflected deeply on what it means to try with all one’s might to avert the seemingly unjustified fate of a loved one. To stand still while fate takes its inevitable course when you have done all you can to save what is dearest to you. In her final days, Angelina faced her fate with courage, strength, and love not only for herself but for those who loved her. I invoke the same courage, strength, and love she embodied that day she left us. For it was her courage, strength, and love in her final days that were a testament to the incredible person she was. Today, I want to share a passage that speaks to the heart of what she taught us all—about the resilience of the spirit and the unseen eternal things such as unconditional love that is so precious.” She said looking at her husband and daughter fondly, “Let us cherish our loved ones as Angelina did. While we mourn her passing, let us also hold onto the profound truths that her life exemplified.” She spoke.

Dr. Clearwater looked to Angelina’s memorial picture off to the side of the lectern before turning her attention to her bible.

“I shall read from John, Chapter 14 verses 1 through 3. This scripture has brought me great comfort, and I hope that it does the same for you.” She explained as she traced the page to the verses she intended to read. She cleared her throat once more, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me so that you also may be where I am.” she said with a steady but emotional voice, “Thank you.” She said softly leaving the lectern to go back to her seat.

After the reflective pause that followed the second reading, the congregation stood in unison as the Gospel Acclamation began. The cantor's voice filled the church, signaling a moment of reverence and preparation for the Gospel reading.

"Alleluia, speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," the cantor sang…

Father Guillermo read a passage from the Gospel that echoed themes of love and eternal life and spoke of Jesus' promise of eternal life to those who believe in Him. As the Gospel concluded, the congregation sat, and a solemn silence fell over the church. Marco took a deep breath before he rose from his seat and took his place at the lectern before the congregation.

"Today, we gather to remember not just the remarkable public persona of my dear wife, but the incredible private warmth and compassion she shared with each of us personally. Mi amor, mi vida, my love, my life, you have left a void that cannot be filled. Your laughter, your unending passion for life, and your unwavering support for all who were privileged to cross your path remain etched in our hearts." Marco paused, collecting himself before continuing, "Ella era mi roca, mi consuelo en tiempos de angustia. She was my rock, my comfort in times of trouble. Her strength was unparalleled, guiding our family with both grace and courage, even in her final days. She taught us the true meaning of resilience and the profound depth of selfless, unconditional love." He breathed fighting back his tears and his grief, "Her dedication to charity, her relentless advocacy for the underprivileged—these were the tenets by which she lived her life. Su corazón siempre tenía espacio para los demás. Their heart always had room for others." He said with a gentle smile, "I remember how she could light up a room with just her presence, cómo su risa llenaba nuestra casa con alegría, how her laughter filled our house with joy. Those moments, those precious, fleeting moments, are treasures that I will carry with me always." He said gratefully.

Marco felt as if Angelina were standing with him, comforting him as he looked out across the congregation, his gaze lingering on the familiar faces that looked back at him with love and support.

"As we bid farewell, let us not dwell on our loss but celebrate the incredible life she led and the countless lives she touched. Vamos a recordarla con alegría, con amor, y con gratitude. Let us remember her with joy, with love, and with gratitude. May her soul, through the mercy of God, rest in peace." Marco concluded.

Tears fell down his face as he left the lectern. Mario stood up and held her arms open to receive her son who hugged her tightly as he wept.

“Lo hice, mamá. I did it, Mama.” He whispered to her. “Angelina y tu papá estarían muy orgullosos, hijo mío. Angelina and your papa would be very proud, my son.” She said tearfully burying her face in her son’s arms as she cried.

Maria and Marco took their seating hugging each other and Angelina as Father Guillermo stood once more at the lectern.

“Marco, you have truly captured the essence of Angelina’s heart and soul. Your love for her knows no bounds. God truly saw that fate brought you together. It is a true blessing to find the truest, purest, and most profound love.” He spoke. Marco nodded to the priest in thanks, “And now, we ask Aurora d’Amour to join us, who will perform a song dedication in honor of Angelina’s love, life, and legacy.” He announced stepping away from the lectern as Dawn arose from her seat standing to the side of the altar.

Dawn wore a black, sheer organza blouse and a long dark dress that came to her ankles exposing her black stiletto pumps. One of the attendants handed her a mic.

“My mother always spoke highly of Angelina, they were truly the best of friends. Her absence may be heartfelt but so was her life and her accomplishments. She led an inspiring life and I hope this song encompasses her legacy for she was an Ave Maria to those who had no love or hope to believe in.” Dawn said the pianist and guitarist began playing a soft melody.

Marcelina watched intently feeling a sense of familiarity as Dawn raised the mic to her lips.

Avant même que l'on n'soit vie

On est pris

Dans un nid de chair et de tendresse

Une étreinte infinie

Qui nous lie

Nous délivre une sagesse

Tout déjà est acquis mais pour qui dès ce cri

Trahissons-nous le geste d'amour qui unit

Désunit

et nourrit les regrets?

Even before one is alive, one is taken

In a nest of flesh and tenderness

An infinite embrace that binds us

We deliver a wisdom

Everything is already taken

But for whom since this cry

do we betray the gesture of love that unites

Disunites and feeds regrets

dont l'enfant ne serait pas

Une statuette, une prière sans foi

Mais une lettre offerte

À ceux qui n'écrivent pas

Pour que les mots résonnent enfin

Comme un Ave Maria…

An Ave Maria whose child won't be

A statuette, a prayer without faith

But a letter offered

To those who do not write

So that words finally resonate

As an Ave Maria…

The violins accompanied the music giving it further depth and serenity that truly moved Marcelina. She looked at the picture of her mother before looking back to Aurora d’Amour as she sang.

À vous, à nous, à ceux qui

Trouveront une paix, une terre, une harmonie

Une infinie raison, sans raison d'être, sans être honni

Et ceux qui mal y pense, qu'ils le pensent

À bientôt, mais dans une autre vie

Dans celle-ci, qu'on se donne

Une chance de tout recommencer

To you, to us, to those who

Find a peace, a (home)land, a harmony

An infinite reason, without reason to be, without being hated

And those who "think badly of it", let them think

See you soon, but in another life

In this one we give ourselves

A chance to start all over again

Un Ave Maria dont l'enfant ne serait pas

Une statuette, une prière sans foi

Mais une lettre offerte

À ceux qui n'écrivent pas

Pour que les mots résonnent enfin

Comme un Ave Maria

Un Ave Maria

An Ave Maria whose child won't be

A statuette, a prayer without faith

But a letter offered

To those who do not write

So that words finally resonate

As an Ave Maria

Rhian watched her daughter in awe not just how proud she was of her but how beautifully and effortlessly she sang it was as if she were another person.

Pour ceux qui ne prient pas

Pour que la musique soit à nouveau la voix

D'un aveu impudique pour ceux qui ne croient pas

Pour tous ceux qui l'méritent enfin

Un Ave Maria

Ave Maria

An Ave Maria

For those who do not pray

So that the music be the voice again

A shameless confession for those who do not believe

For those who finally deserve

An Ave Maria

Marcelina couldn’t help but feel close to Dawn although their encounters had been scant at best. And if just for a fleeting moment, it looked as if Dawn were glowing with golden light that basked the congregation in a warmth that eased their sadness. Marcelina blinked and the light was gone. She looked about as the song concluded wondering if anyone else had seen it…

The funeral continued, with the Liturgy of the Eucharist performed, followed by prayers, incense for honor and purification, the final blessing, and the recessional hymn that encompassed the Commendation and Farewell portion of the service. From there, everyone proceeded from the church to Cimetière du Père-Lachaise where Angelina Rey Espiridon Santo was finally laid to rest.

Long after the funeral ended, Marcelina returned to Saint Bernard’s. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt like she needed to be there. The sun set in the distance casting an orange hue in its wake. Marcelina watched the sunset, she remembered her grandmother telling her the setting sun could be seen as a metaphor for the culmination of a life’s journey that it was a time for reflection and a time of transition into the spiritual realms. She didn’t normally subscribe to such things but found comfort in her grandmother’s wisdom that day.

Entering the church, Marcelina made her way to the side chapel. There in the intimate chamber stood the statue of Mary surrounded by the soft glow of the votive candles that were lit before her. The statue of Mary was a symbol of faith, comfort, and hope and her presence offered a connection to the divine and was a source of solace for experiencing loss. Marcelina was overcome by the sight of the statue, feeling the comfort Mary symbolized. Taking an unlit votive from the nearby shelf, Marcelina approached the blessed mother and picked up one of the lit votive candles from the table in front of the statue. Using the light from the candle, Marcelina lit her votive candle before placing the borrowed candle back. Marcelina held her newly lit votive candle in her hands, the soft glow of the fire illuminating her face. Setting the candle down, Marclina closed her eyes.

"Mama, Te extraño. I miss you. I light this candle as a symbol of my eternal love and remembrance for you. May its light guide me through the darkness and always remind me of your warmth and love. From heaven, please give me the strength to carry on. Help me find my way and make decisions that would make you proud. Ayúdame a encontrar el camino. Help me find the path and to take steps that honor your legacy. With all my love and all my heart, te recuerdo y te celebro. I remember and celebrate you, now and forever. Amen." Marcelina prayed.

Suddenly the door opened, and two sisters of the church entered the chamber startling Marcelina.

“¡Disculpe, señorita Marcelina! Excuse me, Miss Marcelina! I didn’t know you were here.” One of the sisters said softly. Marcelina smiled, “No, no. I’m sorry. Sister Deina. I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted to say a prayer to my mother.” she explained. “You don’t have to be sorry. Sister Mieda and I were just making sure there were votive candles available.” Sister Deina responded. “We’re sorry for your loss. Señora Angelina was an amazing woman.” Sister Mieda said. Marcelina nodded looking to the status of Mary. “She really was. I miss her so much.” Marcelina said tearfully with a smile. Sister Deina and Mieda watched Marcelina intently taken not only by Marcelina’s beauty but by her grace and elegance as well. “Forgive me, you look so much the Blessed Mother in your mantilla. I almost mistook you for her when we came in.” Sister Deina confessed. Marcelina blushed, “Thank you, sister.” She said looking at the glowing candles mesmerized by the flames.

The flame of the candle flickered about drawing Marcelina into a trance, her dark eyes reflecting the candle’s light. There, in the light, Marcelina saw a young woman with her back turned to her. She didn’t know who the woman she felt like the woman was someone she cherished deeply. Marcelina noted the woman’s long, flowing blonde hair and beautiful white gown embellished in gold. The woman began to turn towards her, reaching out to Marcelina.

“MARS!” the woman cried out.

Marcelina let out a gasp and turned to see Sister Deina grasping her shoulder shaking it as if she were trying to wake her.

“Señorita Marcelina, are you alright?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Sister Deina and Marcelina’s eyes met, and Marcelina nodded reassuring the sister she was okay. Marcelina looked back at the candles, but she didn’t see the young woman anymore.

“Is there anything we can do?” Sister Deina asked. Marcelina shook her head, “It’s been a long day. I must be going.” She responded walking towards the chamber doors. “Señorita.” Sister Mieda called after Marcelina who turned to look at the two sisters. She never noticed how much the two women looked alike, like twins almost.

Sister Deina approached Marcelina reaching into the pocket of her dress and taking out a small object. She took Marcelina’s hands in hers and placed the object from her pocket in Marcelina’s hands closing her hands around it.

“When the time comes, you’ll know what to do.” Sister Deina said. “We support you, Señorita.” Sister Mieda added.

The two women smiled comfortingly at Marcelina and left the chamber. Marcelina opened her hand revealing a red and golden wand. The light of the votive candles glowed on the Mars symbol that embellished the golden sphere surrounded by a golden elliptical ring…

[lasoldier]

Act II – Reignard

December 29

The cool winter air and morning sun woke Reignard up. He sat up abruptly realizing he was outside the front of his family home in Notting Hill, a district in West London. The light of dawn shone on his handsome face making his blue eyes sparkle. His mop of dark hair glistened in the scattered sunlight that shined through the bushes in front of his home.

Reignard raised a hand to block the sunlight that shone on his face. That’s when he noticed he was wearing white leather gloves. He lowered his hand looking at it not recognizing them. That’s not the only thing Reignard found amiss. Upon further examination, he realized he was wearing a black tuxedo! The tuxedo was tailored to fit his well-developed body. He wore a pressed white dress shirt that peeked through the satin white waistcoat that was fastened closed beneath his open black jacket with satin lapels. Golden clasps fastened a red, satin-lined cape to the shoulders of his jacket. His gloved hands felt the fabric with his hands and rubbed it between his fingers as if he were trying to confirm that the garments were indeed real but that he was also wearing them. The clothes were slightly damp as he was sitting in half-melted snow. How long had been out there? Had anybody seen him like this? He thought as he went to get up, noticing the matching top hat to his tuxedo toppled over in snow accompanied by a white domino mask.

Reignard looked around to see if anyone had noticed him or was walking by, but it was early enough that only a couple of cooing pigeons noticed him that morning. Their round unassuming eyes watched in curiosity as Reignard quickly got up, his black oxfords tapping on the pavement while he gathered the hat and mask from the ground shaking the snow from them. He absentmindedly checked his pockets but could not find his wallet, phone or keys save a golden star-shaped pocket watch dangling from a golden chain tucked in the pocket of the waistcoat.

Reignard took the watch in his hands noticing the blue-sky window with golden stars and moon representing the phases of the moon. Then, the watch started to tick and Reignard felt the slight pang of a headache. He touched his temple, and the headache went away. Clutching the watch along with the hat and mask, Reignard used his free hand to enter the digital code on the keyless entry pad on his door and went inside.

In contrast to the traditional facade of his home outside, the inside of the home was remodeled and modernized inside. Reignard took off his gloves and tossed them along with the hat, and mask onto the nearby sofa of his living room. He held onto the watch. Resting his hands on his hips, Reignard took a breath giving himself another once over.

“How did I end up dressed like this?” he asked himself as he made his way upstairs.

He entered the master bedroom kicking off his shoes and socks and got undressed. The tuxedo and cape were strewn about the floor as Reignard paced about the room in his underwear trying to piece together how this happened. After a moment, Reignard remembered having these dreams that started shy of a few months ago. The dream was so vivid to him! He remembered an epic battle against what he considered evil demons, it all felt so real to him! He remembered the night sky and how clear it was with so many stars until a large shadow caused each star to disappear. The grotesque face that appeared in the shadow haunted him even now. Reignard remembered holding a sword and wearing regal armor.

“ENDYMION!” he heard a voice cry out. It wasn’t his name, yet the familiarity of the voice was what urged him to respond! He raced to the voice and remembered seeing the silhouette of a woman. He reached out for her but felt something sharp impale him from behind. The pain felt so real, that he remembered he could barely breathe.

Reignard felt the wound and saw the dripping blood on his hand.  He buckled and he fell to his knees. The princess took him into her arms and cradled him close to her. She was crying, she was crying for him. He knew at that moment he loved her, that he always loved her, and that he would give his life to protect her,

“Serenity,” he remembered whispering weakly.

That was her name, he remembered her warmth and felt the life leaving him, but he felt comfort there in her arms. Just as his eyes were about the close. He felt her take the sword from his hand. He was too weak to take it back from her, he knew what she meant to do with it.

“No.” he tried to say but failed! Reignard felt paralyzed, he couldn’t breathe! He watched in horror as the woman impaled herself on his blade.

“Endymion...” she sobbed, her white slowly turning red with her blood.

He watched her bloody hand reach out to her and crystal-like tears fall from her obscured face until a spark of brilliant light flashed between them and her anguished scream woke him up in the middle of the night.

It was the same dream every night! It haunted him! Reignard found himself sleeping less and less as the days went by, then he started losing track of time. He didn’t know when they would happen but would remember waking up in random places around London where he couldn’t remember a certain gap of time. Fortunately, it seemed to only happen at night, but this marked the first time he was wearing the tuxedo. Reignard glanced over at the crumpled tuxedo on the floor of his bedroom; his head throbbed at the sight of it. It had to have something to do with his dream and lack of sleep but how? The ticking of the pocket watch filled the silence that hung in the room.

Reignard’s phone rang interrupting his train of thought. He glanced over to his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his wallet and keys where he had left them when he fell asleep the night before, or so he thought. He walked over to the nightstand, placed the watch next to his wallet and keys, and picked up his phone.

“Hello, Kale.” He said with a grin.

“Reignard…For the millionth time, it’s Cael! Like Kyle, just spelled differently!” Cael said on the phone in a slightly annoyed tone.

“I know, I know,” Reignard said in an amused tone before yawning,

“Rough night?” Cael teased. Reignard couldn’t help but smirk at his friend teasing him now.

“You could say that.” He sighed in response.

“Carousing the streets of London without me?” they asked.

“Just couldn’t sleep.” Reignard half-admitted glancing at the crumpled tuxedo on his floor.

“I’m heading into the shop. I’ll be there in 5. Be dressed and ready. Coffee is on me.” Cael said hanging up before Reignard could respond.

Reignard smiled and let out a sigh putting the phone back down. He glanced at the pocket watch and then turned to look at the tuxedo once more. He gathered up the mysterious garment and shoes from the floor and went downstairs to grab the hat, mask, and gloves. Reignard stood in the middle of his living room unsure of what to do next before going to the nearby closet under the stairs. The last thing he needed was Cael asking questions about his ‘costume’.

Making his way back upstairs, Reignard took a quick shower and threw on a heather gray t-shirt with khaki-colored slacks and black socks. He grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet from the nightstand. He considered taking the pocket watch but decided against it. As he trotted downstairs, he heard Cael’s car honk from outside. Reignard opened the door.

“I’ll be out in just a bit, lemme grab my jacket.” He yelled out to Cael!

Turning from the door he grabbed his black combat boots from the shoe rack by the stairs. Sitting on the bottom step he pulled the shoes on his feet and tied them tight. Getting up he grabbed his jacket that was slung over the banister and was out the door making sure it was locked.

Stuffing his hands in his pocket he walked out the front gate of his home and stopped in his tracks eyeing the car Cael arrived to pick him up in.

“You got it?!” he exclaimed in disbelief looking to Cael leaning back in the driver’s seat, their arms resting behind their head with the most satisfied look on their face.

“I got it,” Cael said nonchalantly beaming with pride before getting out of the car.

Cael was dressed in a tailored MISBHV dove grey blazer and slacks. The buttoned jacket hid their black bandeau top. Their Stuart Weitzman SW-612 sneaker booties padded the pavement as Cael strolled about the car with their hands in their pocket watching as Reignard circled the car.

            “So, this is?” he asked carefully taking a breath.

“1967,” Cael said excitedly!

“Cael, this is a Toyota 2000 GT!” Reignard said gesturing at the car. Then he realized the car was a soft top convertible, “Wait a minute.” He said putting a hand to his chin, “There are only two cars that were made with the soft top.” He observed.

“Uh-huh.” Cael said watching as Reignard put the pieces together, “One of them was found in Hawaii in ‘77 and returned to Japan for the Toyota Museum.” Reignard continued before covering his mouth.

“Yeah?” Cael asked. They could barely contain themselves.

“The second car was never found,” Reignard said incredulously looking to Cael.

“I own the second,” Cael responded gleefully. Reignard touched the cool white metal of the car.

“This can’t be the second car from…” Reignard said in awe locking eyes with Cael.

“YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE!” they yelled in unison.

“You own a car from James Bond. That means…” Reignard managed to say,

“Sean Connery himself sat in this car,” Cael said matter-of-factly,

“How much?” Reignard asked tensing at how much she could have possibly paid for it.

Cael circled the car joining Reignard who stood on the sidewalk, they leaned against the car and crossed their arms locking eyes with Reignard. They looked at the car and nodded at it before looking back at him.

“You really wanna know?”  they asked with a Cheshire cat grin.

“C’mon, Cael,” Reignard muttered.

“Take a guess,” Cael responded cheekily.

“Oh, Bollox!” Reignard protested, “The last Toyota 2000 GT to be sold was like, what? Seven years ago? It sold for about a million then and that was the standard model. This is one of two bespoke cars. Both made for a film that was made over fifty years ago and it’s the most valued car in the collection.” Reignard explained sarcastically,

“4.2 million quid,” Cael said flatly.

“4.2 million!” Reignard said in shock.

Reignard knew he should haven’t been shocked at the price tag for the car, Cael was one of the most popular F1 Racers in the UK. They were a far cry from their college days when they raced the streets of London to make ends meet, even that wasn’t enough to buy one of the only two open-top cars in the world.

“Hop in.” Cael said circling the car again and hopping into the driver’s seat, “Coffee and then to the shop.” They said revving the car as they started it.

Reignard got in on the passenger side still in awe of Cael’s purchase and watched them as they put in gear and took off speeding towards Ladbroke Grove. They made a quick stop at Amoret Coffee from Pembridge St before catching the A501 near the Paddington Basin. Cael sipped their Americano while Reignard sipped his Espresso as they casually drove towards Clerkenwell.

It was long before Cael was on Goswell Rd and pulling into the Terra Firma Customs garage on Bastwick.

“Hey, Rex, Skye!” one of the mechanics greeted the two as they got out of the car.

Reignard and Cael waved as they went into the nearby office.

“Right on time.” A voice greeted them as they entered the office. Zaki leaned back in his office chair resting his arms behind his head and nodding at Cael and Reignard.

“Is she on yet?” Reignard asked,

“I was just setting up the call now,” Zak said leaning up as he typed some things on his computer before getting up.

Zaki wore a cream linen shirt with pink embroidery along the collar. His sleeves were rolled up and he wore a pair of dark pants with dark lace-up boots. His black leather jacket hung on the back of his chair at his desk.

The trio plopped down on the large luxurious couch facing a large flat-screen TV that was mounted up. The webcam took focus of them showing them sitting on the couch in the video preview. Cael finished their coffee and set the cup down on the table in front of them while Reignard sipped his. A moment later an icon popped up on the screen.

“There she is,” Cael said.

The icon disappeared showing a fresh-faced young woman on the screen. Seeing the trio on her screen, the young woman smiled, and she waved with both hands.

“Bonjour from Paris! Hi Reign, Kael, Zak!” She said softly greeting her friends. Reignard, Cael, and Zaki all smiled back at her.

“River!” Zaki said,

“It has even been 3 months and we miss you already. The shop isn’t the same.” Cael said warmly,

“I know. I miss you already.” River said wistfully, “How are things?” she asked.

“Cael got the second Toyota 2000 GT from James Bond!” Reignard exclaimed.

“From, You Only Live Twice?!” River exclaimed, “That’s our favorite movie.” She said happily!

“4.2 million quid!” Zaki chimed in.

“4.2 million?!” River said in astonishment running her hand through her short hair and smiling to herself.

“What?” Reignard asked.

“Yeah, what is it?” Zaki asked as Cael propped their feet up on the table resting their arms behind their head with a smug, satisfied look on their face.

“Well…” River started.

“No,” Reignard said.

“You found the car for them?!” Zaki shouted!

“I did a little snooping and found the private owner. When he heard that it was my favorite movie and when he found out I knew Cael, he was more than happy to sell to one of the top F1 drivers in the UK.” River explained blushing running her hands over her crème-colored cashmere sweater. Reignard and Zaki glared at Cael who looked at them innocently.

“Neither one of you bothered to ask how I found it,” they said with a shrug. Reignard rolled his eyes and shoved Cael into Zaki who shoved Cael back at Reignard while they laughed manically.

River laughed at the trio roughhousing on the couch before loudly clearing her throat to get them to settle down. River reached for something on her desk and revealed a translucent blue visor.

River slipped on the visor, and it lit up, its elaborate interface decorated the screen as words flashed and scrolled on the lenses.

“What is that?” Reignard asked in fascination.

“A pet project, I’ve been working on.” She said her brown eyes reading the prompts on her screen. She raised her hands and began typing on what seemed to be an invisible keyboard. She would move her hand this way and that as if she were moving things on a board.

“What are you doing?” Cael asked looking at River in confusion. River scoffed and smiled,

“I created an AI and computer spatial system called Drive Me Mercury. The visor is called Genius the Veil. It. allows me to interact see the system and interact with it.” She explained. River looked to Cael on her screen who had a dumbfounded look on their face. River smirked and rolled her eyes, “I’ll show you.” She murmured and her screen switched to show her friends what she saw.

The trio sat up in unison as the interface River was working on was displayed on the screen. The interface was a blue three-dimensional digital space highlighted in blue much like River’s visor. Weird code language scrolled on various parts of the screen. A video screen of River sitting at her desk was in the corner, her hands were raised typing in the air. A digital keyboard with weird symbols on the keys appeared and the corresponding keys lit up to match River’s input.

“What coding are you using?” Reignard asked who was familiar with computers himself but the code River was using was not anything he had seen before and yet it felt so familiar. River smiled to herself as she continued typing and gesturing.

“It’s a code language I created. It’s unique to this system.” She admitted blushing. Reignard’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You mean this entire system is built on original code?” he asked. River nodded affirmatively.

“Yes, it’s hard to explain. It came out of nowhere, but I feel like I’ve seen it before because when I built Drive Me Mercury, it came together quite fast. I researched to make sure I wasn’t sourcing another code. I couldn’t find it anywhere.” she explained.

“That’s amazing,” Reignard said in wonder.

“It looks confusing,” Cael said half-watching the screen while checking their phone. Zak nodded in agreement.

“I decided to call the language, Mercurius,” River said confidently. The name just felt right to her in her mind just like the code was familiar to her.

“I’m using the system to connect with my computer at the shop,” River explained as the computer at the vacant desk in the office powered on.

Reignard, Cael, and Zaki glanced over to the computer booting up and looked back to the screen as various schematics of cars and auto parts were downloaded and displayed on the screen simultaneously before disappearing. The interface pixelated and changed in color on the screen and a 3d model of a silver-blue Ferrari F512M appeared and rotated on the screen.

“Hey, that’s my car,” Cael said finally recognizing something on the screen. River smiled with satisfaction.

“Yes, I have downloaded my files to Drive Me Mercury. I can now use the system to maintain your computer systems, check for errors, see what updates are needed, and determine the best enhancements needed for all of Terra Firma’s vehicles!” she announced happily.

“River, you have outdone yourself,” Zaki said proudly clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“Well, my contract with the shop helps me out here in Paris, the internship is great and all but doesn’t pay well,” River admitted sheepishly.

“We’ll always look out for you, River. If you need anything, I’ll take care of it.” Cael said caringly. River smiled at Cael gratefully.

“I appreciate that. I want to earn my keep like I always have. Since I won’t be able to race for the foreseeable future, you three will need an extra boost without me.” River said with a wink before focusing on Cael’s car, “So I’ve got loaded.” She said as the system highlighted various parts of the car. Cael’s eyes’ sparkled watching the car revolve on the screen with various indicators showing information about the car.

“First and foremost, I am reprogramming and upgrading the Engine Control Unit, so it is compatible with my systems. I am also providing an upgrade to the traction control system. I had George install a custom telemetry system on all the cars so I could use Drive Me Mercury for things like this.” She said as a progress bar loaded showing the upgrades happening, “George also installed LED HUD Displays into the dashboards of the cars which will use Quicksilver or Q.” She explained.

“Q, like from James Bond?” Cael asked catching the reference and remembering Desmond Llewelyn’s character from their favorite movie.

“Exactly,” River replied.

“What’s Quicksilver?” Zaki asked.

“Quicksilver is an interlink communication system based on my technology. It can be used across all the vehicles as well the Teletia S,” River explained,

“And what, pray tell, is a Teletia S?” Reignard asked,

“Oh!” River exclaimed excitedly, “My latest prototype. You should have received a package.” She spoke.

“Oh yes!” Zaki said getting up. He walked over to his desk and brought a brown box back sitting down.

“Go ahead and open it,” River said with a smile watching as Zaki used his muscular arms to break open the box revealing a black lock box.

“River, you are taking your love for Q to a whole new level,” Zaki said with a grin running his hands along the box and opening its lid to reveal the shiny new screen smartphones nestled into the polyurethane foam packaging. Adhesive labels under each Zaki, Reignard, and Cael’s name to let them know which phone was theirs.

“Q is covertly utilizing existing commercial and government satellite infrastructure temporarily for its encrypted communication network. Drive Me Mercury in conjunction with Q is using an evolving encryption code to avoid detection and maintain secure channels. Hopefully, with the system learning from the satellites I can create a network of my own without piggybacking. But this will do for now.” River explained watching Reignard pick up his phone which was colored black.

“I’ve been migrating all of Terra Firm’s tech and systems to ensure compatibility with Drive Me Mercury for increased security measures and proprietary protection. Given that you and the crew are still street racing, discretion is key.” River said.

“Luckily, Cael’s investment provides us with a foundation and reputation of legitimacy for the shop,” Reignard added as he examined the sleek device in his hand.

“Plus, we want to operate out of the black without having Cael pad our pockets,” Zaki added with a nod while he picked up the puce-colored phone.

“Fortunately, Cael hasn’t had to do that as of late,” River stated matter-of-factly watching Cael pick up their phone which space blue.

“I used my winnings and part of my app earnings to secure an exclusive contract for Terra Firma with a manufacturer that operates out of Shanghai. They will make the Teletia S and anything tech-related we need for the vehicles.” River said watching her friends power up their phones, a stylized Mercury logo displaying on the screen.

“This setup looks just like my iPhone,” Reignard said in awe as he scrolled through the phone.

“I’ve taken the liberty of creating backups of your current phones and used that to image them for your Teletia S. And now that you’ve turned them on…Your current phones have been wiped and deactivated. Your numbers and all your phone content are now on the Teletia S.” River said sheepishly wincing as she waited for the backlash.

“What?!” Cael asked looking at how their phone was reset to its factory setting and asked to be set up for activation.

“River!” Reignard said in dismay noticing his phone was wiped as well. Cael and Reignard looked at each other and then looked over to Zak who had taken a liking to his new toy.

“What are you doing?” Cael asked in disgust at how calm Zaki was about his old phone being wiped.

“I’m playing Mission the Road.” Zaki said gleefully, I was overdue for a new phone.” Zaki said looking down at the cracked screen of his battered phone. Cael rolled their eyes and shook their head.

“It’s for the best. You should be able to use your phone like you normally would.” River reassured.

“I trust you,” Reignard said tossing his old phone on the nearby table. Cael sighed in half-agreeance.

“Me too.” They said putting their old phone on the table.

“I can’t believe you did all of this,” Zaki said in astoundment.

“You are like Q,” Cael said with a wink making River blush.

“I’ll work with the team to get Nimbus fully upgraded including yours Reign and Zak,” River stated as she took off the visor running a hand through her short hair.

“Thanks, River. You’re the best.” Reignard said watching as Cael looked at their new phone, checking the messages with a very pleasant smile on their face, “And what do we have here?” he asked snatching up Cael’s phone.

“Reign!” Cael said in surprise swiping at their phone to get it back, but Reignard had leaped up from the couch out of their reach,

“You’ve been eyeing your phone ever since we got in the office. Now I see, why.” Reignard said with a sly smile watching Cael get up and circle the couch and the table in hopes of catching Reignard,

“Give it back, Reign.” Cael grinned,

“There’s that smile again,” Reignard said as he rifled through Cael’s notifications while dodging Cael. Two of them went round and round.

“Reign, come on!” Cael protested.

“Well, well…who is Mina?” Reign asked with a knowing glance and Cheshire-cat grin. Cael blushed profusely,

“No one of importance!” Cael blurted out.

“An awful lot of blushing for someone that isn’t important.” Zaki sneered.

“Shut it, Zak!” Cael said.

“Wait a minute.” Reignard said looking up from the phone directly at Cael, “You’re dating Mina Nilasiman!” he exclaimed. Cael fell over on the couch, their face pressed into the cushions.

“The famous violinist?!” River exclaimed her face in awe as she watched from the screen.

“Cael, you devil you!” Zaki said with a grin getting up and joining Reignard.

“That explains all the travel you’ve been doing as of late,” Reignard said. Then the phone chimed again and Reignard’s devilish smile curved even more!

“What is it?” River asked in anticipation.

“Mina just secured tickets for Cael and her companions to the Infinity New Year Bash in Paris!” Reignard said. Cael sat up abruptly,

“What?” they asked. Reignard tossed Cael their phone who re-read the message for themselves,

“River, looks like we’ll get to see you sooner than we thought.” Zaki said crossing his arms and nudging Reignard, “We’re coming to Paris for the New Year!” he exclaimed.

[lasoldier]

I created a Fan Cast page to accompany my Sailor Moon fan fiction, La Soldier.

[lasoldier]

Hmmmm

[lasoldier]

Clare’s delicate hands felt along the fabric of her organza gown, grasping the hem. The top of her gown was embroidered with diamonds, pearls, and beading. Her detached sleeves were shaped like white flowers, and her long blonde hair fell over her bare shoulders. Releasing the gown, Clare’s blue eyes glanced up from her dress and took in the sight of the grand palace that lay before her. Where was she? Her crystal-heeled shoes clicked on the marble floors as she turned about. She knew she was waiting to meet someone…but who? She turned one way, looking down one hall before turning another way and looking down another. “Serenity…” a familiar voice said behind her. Clare smiled, recognizing the voice, only to be blinded by a white light as she heard another voice.

 

“Grey skies over a setting sea.

Heartbreak sounds like a symphony.

Future memories at the thought of you...

Perfect moments of a desperate youth...

Sunlight burning into the moon.

Just like all of the things you do.

The way you got me,

Yeah, you're in control...

You can hypnotize me.

You hypnotize me.”

 

The song jolted Clare awake. Her alarm clock radio stared at her; its digital numbers showed the time to be 9:45 am.

 

"Oh no..." Clare groaned out loud as she reached for her phone. Notifications of missed calls and text messages covered the bunny ballerina wallpaper.  

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Clare dramatically dropped her phone on the bed. What was that dream? She wondered. Who was Serenity?

 

“You’re listening to Nouvelle Radio Jeune, and we’re playing 10 hits in a row! That was ‘Heart Hypnotic’ by Aurora d’Amour! Coming up next is ‘Timebomb’ by Mimi Starr! Stay tuned in with NRJ! They are 10, they are fresh, they never stop!” the announcer declared enthusiastically, interrupting Clare’s train of thought.

 

Clare reached over to the radio on her nightstand and switched it off. She grabbed her earphone case sitting next to the radio. She took out the white earbuds and slipped them into her ears. She grabbed her phone and sat up in bed as she opened her Spotify, pulling up the ‘Heart Hypnotic’ single by Aurora d’Amour and pressing play.

 

“Grey skies over a setting sea.

Heartbreak sounds like a symphony.

Future memories at the thought of you...

Perfect moments of a desperate youth...

Sunlight burning into the moon.

Just like all of the things you do.

The way you got me,

Yeah, you're in control...

You can hypnotize me.

You hypnotize me.”

 

Clare grabbed her plush bunny and hopped up on the mattress, dancing to the music before doing a half pirouette off the bed, onto the pallet, and onto the wooden floor. Dancing around her bed, Clare went to the dresser next to her bed. She tossed the bunny onto the bed, flung open the drawer, and rummaged frantically through the unfolded clothing. She found a fresh pair of black underwear and slipped them on, followed by a pair of black shorts. She grabbed a matching black camisole, removed her oversized ‘C’est la Vie – 2014 World Tour’ t-shirt, and slid the camisole over her head. She threw on a pair of comfy grey sweats over her shorts. Finally, grabbing a pair of black ankle socks from the dresser, Clare plopped down on her bed and slipped them over her feet.

 

“I don't!

I don't know what this is!

But I know I love it.

Baby, yes I know!

You got my Heart Hypnotic!

Ain't no letting go!”

 

Clare tumbled off the end of her bed onto the wooden floor as she reached under the pallet bed. She pushed aside empty bags of Brets chips, Bonne Maman Madeleines, and Haribo Tagada Strawberry gummies! Cans of Orangina soda rattled and clanged, rolling out from underneath the bed as if they were running away from Clare’s rummaging hand that swept to and fro. “Ah ha,” Clare said excitedly, grasping her black and white dance sneakers. Throwing her head back in triumph, Clare climbed to her feet, shoes in hand, and hopped around her room haphazardly to get her shoes on.

 

“I don't!

I don't know what this is!

But I know I love it.

Baby, yes I know!

You got my Heart Hypnotic!

Ain't no letting go!”

Clare raced to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth as quickly and thoroughly as she could before she wrestled her unkempt blonde hair into a presentable bun. Clare looked at herself, her crystal blue eyes sparkling. She smiled at herself in the mirror and rushed out of the bathroom! Luckily, her duffle had everything she needed for class save for a change of clothes. A quick rummage of her dresser again gave her an ensemble consisting of denim jeans and a rabbit sweatshirt combo that would work in a pinch!

 

“Dark nights under the setting sun.

Bright lights, come we're the only one.

I've got this vision.

How it's supposed to be

There's a fortune teller,

telling you and me!

Your light is beaming inside of you!

That's how you mesmerize me too!

The way you got me,

Yeah, you're in control!

You can hypnotize me,

You hypnotize me!”

 

Bouncing her head to the song, Clare left the apartment, locking the door behind her. She hurried down the steps and sprang out the door of her apartment into the wintry Parisian air. Clare’s breath steamed as she stuffed her hands in her pockets, a bright smile on her face. Her carefree smile soon turned into a frown as her stomach grumbled. With her frantic routine to get out of the house, of course, she forgot to grab breakfast! Clare groaned, biting her bottom lip. She glanced back at the apartment, wondering if she should go back in. Clare’s eyes lit up as an idea came to mind, and with that, she was off down the street!

 

“I don't!

I don't know what this is!

But I know I love it.

Baby, yes I know!

You got my Heart Hypnotic!

Ain't no letting go!

I don't!

I don't know what this is!

But I know I love it!

Baby, yes I know!

You got my Heart Hypnotic!

Ain't no letting go!”

 

The smell of warm espresso and pastries made her stomach growl even louder, but Clare ignored it as she walked down the steps leading into Créteil-Pointe du Lac. She brought up her monthly pass on her phone and managed to catch the Metro just in time!

 

Clare breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed into an empty seat on the train. She felt she'd make it on time, maybe a bit early for a bite! She smiled to herself as she reached for her phone as her favorite song reached its bridge.

“I...I don't know what this is...

But....You got my Heart...Hypnotic...

I...I don't know what this is...

But...I know that I...I love it.

I don't know what this is...

But...I know that I...I love it.

I...I don't know what this is...

But....You got my Heart...Hypnotic...”

 

Clare looked out the window of the train, listening to the song. She remembered practicing and dancing to Aurora's music for as long as she could remember. There was something about her music that gave her the motivation she needed to work towards her dream of becoming prima. Clare scoffed at the thought, feeling a bit down. She couldn't even get out of bed and attend class on time. She lowered her eyes, her hands absentmindedly playing with each other as the song finished.

 

“I don't!

I don't know what this is!

But I know I love it.

Baby, yes I know!

You got my Heart Hypnotic!

Ain't no letting go!

 

The song made Clare feel better and reminded her of how far she had gotten. She smiled to herself, feeling like her dreams were achievable after all. After a few spins of the single, Clare hurried off the train and up the stairs onto Pl. de l'Opéra. Clare caught her breath, glancing toward the Paris Opera. She couldn’t believe her eyes! It was Aurora d'Amour!

 

  

“-lare...” a muffled voice called to her, “-lare!” the voice said, “Clare!” the voice rang out again, a delicate hand waving in front of her face catching the attention of the awestruck blonde.

 

Clare blinked to see Zharia standing in front of her. Zharia wore a green apron tied around her buttoned white double-breasted chef’s jacket, the Café de la Paix logo hidden beneath her apron strap. Her long dreadlocks were wrapped in a low bun, her beautiful dark eyes sparkling, and a smile forming on her berry-colored lips as Clare smiled back at her, blushing in embarrassment at being starstruck. Clare took out her earphones, put them in the case, and stuffed them in her pocket. Clare was glad to see her friend and hugged her lovingly.

 

“Zharia!” she said happily. “Good morning to you too!” Zharia said with a gentle laugh, hugging Clare, her warm cheek to Clare’s cold forehead, “I see you like the new ad featuring your favorite singer.” Zharia teased as she and Clare ended their embrace. Clare blushed again. “They put her up last night,” Zharia said, looking at the advert.

 

Zharia liked Aurora d’Amour but she was not a superfan like Clare. Zharia did listen to her music when she was baking at the café. She looked to Clare, who was staring at the ad again. Zharia shook her head and cleared her throat to get Clare’s attention, raising a white bag and paper coffee cup for her friend. Clare’s eyes dazzled, overjoyed at the sight of the bag and coffee cup. Her stomach growled loudly. Zharia looked at Clare’s stomach and giggled, handing Clare the bag.

 

"Un croissant au chocolat et un cappuccino frais. Fait par moi,” A chocolate croissant and a fresh cappuccino. Done by me, she said proudly.   Clare reached into the bag, taking the warm croissant in her hand, taking a hungry bite, and smudging her cheek in chocolate. Zharia shook her head and wiped the chocolate from her friend’s cheek, cleaning it off on her apron.   “Your French is improving! You're learning fast for only being in Paris for about a year.” Clare commented. Zharia beamed proudly and winked. “I’ve had a good teacher,” she said before nodding her head towards the Paris Opera, “You better get going.” She said with a wink. Clare was busy taking another bite when she realized what time it was. “Oh no!” she said with her mouth full.

 

Clare took a swig of her cappuccino before putting her croissant in the same hand as the coffee cup. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a balled-up wad of Euros, and put them in Zharia’s open hand before running off. Zharia uncrinkled the Euros and looked at Clare as she ran off,

 

“Clare! You gave me too much!” she said, realizing she had more Euros than what a croissant and cappuccino cost! “Merci! Zharia!” Clare said, waving her croissant as she ran off towards Palais Garnier. Zharia smiled gratefully and put the Euros in her apron pocket. “Bonjour, Zharia!” a voice called out to her. Zharia turned to see a handsome young man approach her, “Bonjour, Aurele.” She said, approaching him.

 

Aurele smiled cheerfully, adjusting the black leather messenger bag on his shoulder and ran a hand through his curly chestnut hair. He wore a dark suit, his single-breasted blazer buttoned over his white pin-striped shirt. His patent leather oxfords tapped on the pavement as he joined Zharia in front of the café. Zharia crossed her arms and looked at Aurele proudly before adjusting his lapels and patting them softly,

 

“And where’s our tie?” she asked with a knowing glance. Aurele patted his pocket where it was rolled and tucked away neatly, “I got cappuccino on my tie last week,” he confessed. “Well, let’s get you some fresh cappuccino and something to eat before you head off to the Louvre, and be sure not to get any on your shirt,” Zharia said. “Oi, m’dame. Thank you, Zharia,” he said, following her to the café entrance, “Do you have lunch?” she asked, “Zharia…” Aurele groaned. “Zharia, nothing. We’ll get you something for lunch, and you’re just in luck; I made a fresh batch of beignets,” she said matter-of-factly. “You don’t have to do that, Zharia,” Aurele protested, “Nonsense, I insist,” Zharia said as they went inside.  

Clare had to wait for the break in class before she could enter the Salle Petipa. She bit her bottom lip as she nervously entered the room greeted by a stern glance from the ballet mistress.

 

“Clare Esper, you are late…again,” Madame Javelot said with a knowing glance, pointing to the center of the dome room.

 

Clare trudged forward defeatly only to feel her body lunge forward as she toppled over onto her knees. Clare looked over her shoulder to see Lilita quickly tucking one leg behind the other. Clare gathered herself up, wincing at her scraped knee as she hobbled slightly to the center of the room. Lilita covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, a couple of ballerinas standing with her followed suit.

 

“Lita!” Madame Gardenia snapped at the girl as Clare passed by her, “As étoile, I expect you most of all to uphold the discipline, respect, and harmony of the Opera!” she said admonishing the dark-haired dancer, “Of course, Madame Javelot, my apologies.” Lita murmured, “I should not be the only one you’re apologizing to, Ms. Fairemont,” Madame Javelot snapped, “Yes, Madame,” Lita said dejectedly, her dark eyes looking into Clare’s teary blue eyes, “Désolée,” she said flatly, crossing her arms. Clare nodded half-heartedly accepting Lilita’s apology. She couldn’t help but feel that she had it out for her. “Now,” Madame Javelot said, turning her attention to Clare, “Miss Fairemont’s unacceptable behavior aside, Ms. Esper, your conduct must be addressed as well. You have acquired a bad habit of being tardy as of late,” she said as she strolled to the center of the room.  

Javelot’s hair was a mass of luscious curls that fell to the shoulders of her mesh pink top that covered her matching leotard. Her brown tights were close to a perfect match to her sienna skin. Clare noticed Himeko, Chasity, and Jean-Yves out of the corner of her eye, feeling a small bit of comfort seeing her friends. Madame Javelot’s coffee-colored eyes met Clare’s blue ones,

 

“Well?” Madame Javelot asked, “I don’t think you’ll get your answers from Ms. Tsukino, Ms. Vale, or Mr. Monahan,” she said knowingly. “Uhhh. I’m sorry, Madame Javelot,” Clare stammered, “I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted. “Well, Ms. Esper, I hope I will see an improvement now that we’ve had this little chat,” Madame Javelot said. “Yes, Madame,” Clare said, nodding. Madame Javelot smiled “Good,” she said approvingly, “Shall we resume class?” she said in a hushed voice to Clare.

 

Clare looked to Madame Javelot, who was smiling at her. Clare nodded enthusiastically with a bright smile. Madame Javelot clapped her hands sharply.

 

“To the barre, mes danseurs!” she ordered watching the dancers hurry to barres around the room. Himeko, Chasity, Karine, and Jean-Yves narrowly skirted Madame Javelots knowing glance and took their place next to Clare placing their hands on the bar awaiting direction from Madame Javelot. “Un, deux, troix!” Madame Javelot shouted starting the music. “Clare!” Chasity said in a sharp whisper. “We texted you when we left the apartment. We were trying to keep you from being late.” Himeko whispered as they all began to extend their legs to the front in unison slowly, “I know.” Clare sighed. She wasn’t sure if she should mention it but why wouldn’t she with her closest friends? They moved their legs to the side next, “Why do I smell chocolate?” Himeko asked sniffing the air. Clare bit her bottom lip and looking guiltily at her friends, “Why you!” Karine scolded. “I know.” Clare sighed again. “I can’t believe you stopped off at Café de la Paix! No wonder you’re late!” Chasity whispered, “I didn’t get breakfast, I was hungry.” Clare whined as they stretched their legs back, “Well at least you had breakfast.” Jean-Yves chimed in, “Evie!” Himeko, Karine, and Chasity snapped. Jean-Yves cowered under their glares, “Leave him alone.” Clare said defending Jean-Yves, “Evie is right.” She added, “I had to eat something.” “So, you text my brother asking for breakfast. You can’t keep texting Blason like that, he’s the Executive Chef of the Café!” Karine said reprimanding her. “I didn’t text Blason!” Clare protested, “I text Zharia.” She said sheepishly correcting Karine. “That doesn’t make it better, Clare. Zharia just started as Sous Chef and is responsible as Pastry Chef. Don’t ruin it for her.” Karine said concernedly, “I know. You’re right.” Clare whimpered feeling bad. “Abaresques!” Madame Javelot said with another sharp clap of her hands. The group stood in plie while extending their other leg directly behind at a 90-degree angle.  “What’s been going on with you lately?” Chasity asked concerned. “I haven’t been sleeping well, like I said.” Clare repeated what she told Madame Javelot, “I’ve been having weird dreams too.” She said thoughtfully, “They so real…” she whispered. “What kind of dreams?” Himeko asked, “Ms Tsukino, Ms. Vale, Ms. Argent, Ms. Esper AND Mr. Monohan.” Madame Javelot barked with a sharp glance saying less talking and more practicing.  

Class and rehearsal were followed up by another nightly performance of the Nutcracker for the holiday season. Clare, Himeko, Jean-Yves, Karine, and Chasity made their way to the Metro.

 

“You know, we should be stretching,” Jean-Yves protested. “Ohhh Evie, enough!” Karine groaned, “Karine! Evie is just trying to help,” Chasity said in his defense, “I’ve had enough ballet today! We’ve been performing the Nutcracker for weeks. I was late for class, again! Madame Javelot lectured me,” Clare pouted, “I love the Nutcracker,” Chasity said happily, “Of course, you do. It’s your favorite production,” Himeko teased, “And my leg hurts from when Lita tripped me,” Clare interjected, “All the more reason to stretch. It only takes about 15 minutes or so,” Jean-Yves said matter-of-factly as he reached for his phone from his coat pocket and began playing a game on his phone, “What are you playing?” Himeko asked, “Mission the Road,” Jean-Yves replied, “I love that game,” Clare said excitedly, watching him play, “I was reading about the creator. Her name is River Clearwater, and she is from London. It’s rumored she’s a genius. She’s around our age and got an internship with Infinity Corporation here in Paris. Her mother is the Chief Medical Officer of Infinity Medical,” he explained, all while not breaking eye contact with his phone, “How do you know all of this?” Chasity asked, “I read an article about it in Liberation,” he said, closing the app after losing his last life in the game, “Oh, I remember Bastian and Papa talking about her! He saw Papa at the office when he interviewed her for Liberation,” Clare said, “Infinity has grown since the company acquired the Grande Arche in La Defense,” Jean-Yves said, adjusting his glasses as he pulled up the article and showed the girls the picture of River. Clare, Chasity, Karine, and Himeko all huddled around Jean-Yves and his phone to look at the article, “Oh, she’s pretty,” Clare said as the group broke their huddle and continued walking, “I want to be cute and smart like her. Making money off mobile games is so fun, my mom is a doctor of a big corporation,” she said dreamily, “Your mom’s a famous chef,” Chasity laughed, “Oh yeah,” Clare said with a grin. Her stomach growled, “What I would give for one of her omelets…” Clare said hungrily with a grin, “You and food. I swear,” Karine teased, “I can’t help it,” Clare said, “Just be glad Madame Javelot didn’t smell the chocolate croissant you had before class. You’re lucky she only has heightened sight not heightened smell like Himeko.” Chasity remarked, pointing at Clare, “Mmm, it was so good. I wish tonight’s performance was at the Garnier; we could have gone to Café de la Paix,” she said, “Clare,” Chasity said, giving Clare’s stomach a teasing poke. Himeko’s phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her coat pocket, checking her messages, “Oh, my goodness,” Himeko said happily, “What is it?” Chasity asked, “It’s Jasper!” Himeko responded gleefully. The group gathered around Himeko in excitement at the mention of Jasper’s name, “I miss him so much!” Chasity exclaimed, “Me too!” Karine said, “He was a great dancer, I wish he would have stayed with us,” Jean-Yves said half-heartedly, “Me too,” Clare added, “What did Jasper say?” she asked, “Jasper and his partners opened a new bar and want us to come for the show!” Himeko said excitedly, “That sounds like so much fun! I didn’t know Jasper was opening a bar! What’s it called?” Karine asked, “Café Bar Amazone,” Himeko replied with a grin, “Oooh, that means they have food. We should go,” Clare said, “It’s already pretty late,” Jean-Yves objected, “Live a little, Evie,” Chasity encouraged, “Clare had a bad day. I think this would be a great way to end the night,” Karine added, “It’s not far from here,” Himeko said, looking at the details, “We can take the Metro and be there in 20 minutes just in time for the show,” she explained, “Plus, we can support Jasper!” Clare said happily. “As long as we don’t drink,” Jean-Yves said, agreeing reluctantly to the impromptu night out.

 

The group of friends hurried down the Metro steps, catching the 5 train in the nick of time. They were soon at Café Bar Amazone, huddled around a cozy table at the front of the stage, and treated themselves to food and drinks from the menu.

 

“We were lucky to get this table; this place is packed,” Chasity observed, “This pasta is amazing. I never tasted tea so good,” Clare said with her mouth full, “Clare, you shouldn’t be eating like that,” Chasity scolded while Himeko shook her head at Clare in feigned disappointment. “I think I’ve burned enough calories for today,” Clare justified, sipping her tea, “At least we’re not drinking,” Clare added. “We had to agree not to drink otherwise Jean-Yves wouldn’t have stayed,” Karine said. “It’s Monday, we have class, rehearsals, and another week of performances!” Jean-Yves interjected, “I know, I know,” Karine said and sipped her tea while nibbling on a piece of dark chocolate. She picked up the menu and looked it over, “I think it’s very clever to pair foods with specialty tea. Blason may like the idea for the Café,” she said thoughtfully, “Did you know one of Jasper’s partners runs a herb, spice, and tea shop that supplies the bar?” Chasity asked, “This menu must be his idea. This dark chocolate goes great with this Indian black tea. Clare’s pasta came with Sri Lankan tea,” Karine said, putting the menu down.

 

A huge abstract neon sign in green and yellow illuminated the stage. The dimly lit club was complemented with sultry magenta lighting. The sounds of clinking glasses, plate clatters, and the bustle of idle chatter brought the bar to life. A drum roll signaled the show’s beginning, and the bar went dark. The audience applauded as the music began, and the spotlight illuminated the stage, revealing Jasper, who posed dramatically, wearing a bowler hat tipped over their face. Dark-colored lips surrounded a dazzling smile. Their bare chest was hidden beneath a dark blazer with fur lapels, high-waisted pants, and platform shoes with a bowtie around their neck. They moved their hips to the music, lifting their hat, and revealing their dark, blue-shaded eyes. They locked eyes with their friends seated at the front table, winked, and sang as if they were singing to only them,

 

“Willkommen.

Bienvenue.

Welcome!

Fremde.

Étranger.

Stranger.

Glücklich zu sehen, je suis enchanté.

Happy to see you!

Bleibe, reste, stay.

Willkommen,

Bienvenue,

Welcome.

Im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret!”

 

The crowd applauded at Jasper’s introduction.

 

“I love Cabaret!” Karine said happily, “Meine Damen und Herren, mesdames et messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen!” Jasper announced, quoting the famous play, “Guten Abend, bonsoir, good evening! Wie geht's? Comment ça va? Do you feel good?” they asked, pointing at Chasity, who blushed and covered her face as a spotlight appeared on her, “Yeah, I bet you do,” Jasper said with a wink as the spotlight disappeared, “Ich bin euer Conférencier; je suis votre compère. I am your host! Und sagen,” they said, posing once more and sang,   “Welcome! Im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret!”   “Leave your troubles outside! So, life is disappointing? Err? Forget it! We have no troubles here! Here, life is beautiful!” they said theatrically. They pointed to the table where Clare and company sat, “The girls! Are beautiful!” they said, strolling across the stage, “Even the orchestra is beautiful!” they said, disappearing off stage as the band played the instrumental of Willkommen. “That was electric,” Himeko said, “Jasper looks amazing,” Clare said as they applauded with the audience until the stage went dark again. “The French are glad to die for love,” a woman’s voice sang, “They delight in fighting duels,” she continued in a sultry voice, “But I prefer a man who lives and gives expensive…” she paused as she appeared on the stage, the crowd applauding her, “jewels,” she said with a crinkle of her nose.  

The woman wore a top hat over her red, victory-rolled hair draping over the should of her black tuxedo. Soon the band began its bombastic intro and the woman danced around tipping her top hat and digging her hand in to throw silver glitter confetti into the air.

 

A kiss on the hand may be quite continental!

But diamonds are a girl’s best friend!

A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental!

On your humble flat!

Or help you feed your, ‘rrrow’ pussy cat.

Men grow cold as girls grow old!

And we all lose our charms in the end…

But square cut!

Or pear shape!

These rocks don't lose their shape!

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend!

 

“Bonjour, mes chéris,” Jasper whispered, joining Clare and her friends at the table, as the band broke played their musical interlude. “Jasper!” the group greeted them excitedly, “Tiffany’s!” the woman shouted as male dancers presented her different types of jewelry! “I’m so happy you guys could make it!” Jasper said happily, “We wouldn’t miss it for the world. I wish we could do numbers like that at the Opera,” Clare said, “Cartier!” the woman squealed as she held out her wrist with a diamond bracelet and broke into a sample of Material Girl by Madonna, “Cause we are living in a material world and I am a material girl…Ah come and get me boys ow!” she teased her male performers as they danced on stage. “That was one of the reasons why I left. I love the freedom here. It’s a dream come true. All of you being here made it that much better. Thank you for coming,” Jasper said tearfully, squeezing each of their hands, “Black Star. Ross Cole. Talk to me Jasper Morgan, tell me all about it!” she exclaimed. “The show must go on,” he added with dramatic flair before joining the redhead on stage! “There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer!” the woman sang with Jasper grasping her waist as she posed again, ‘But diamonds are a girl's best friend’ the female chorus sang, “There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer!” the woman sang as Jasper twirled her about, ‘Thinks you're (awful nice)’ the chorus sang, “Oooo, but get that ice or else no dice!” the woman growled pointing at Clare, “He's your guy when stocks are high but beware when they start to descend. Diamonds are a girl's best, diamonds are a girl's best, diamonds are a girl's best friend!” the chorus sang as the number ended with Jasper and the redhead bowing and disappearing backstage.

 

The show went on well past midnight, and the group of friends found themselves huddled outside waiting for their rideshare,

 

“Karine and Evie, just stay with us tonight, and we can go to class together tomorrow. It’s late enough as it is,” Chasity insisted, “I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” Jean-Yves said tiredly with a yawn, “It was worth it,” Karine admitted, “It was fun,” Clare chimed in cheerfully with a yawn, “But we are going to be so tired in the morning,” she added as she stretched. A woman’s scream echoed into the night sky, scaring the group,

“What was that?” Himeko asked. Clare looked around concerned, “It came from over there,” she said, looking down the street, feeling her feet take her in that direction, “Clare!” Chasity said, grabbing her arm, “What if they need help,” Clare said sadly, “You can’t go alone,” Karine said, “Come with me,” Clare pleaded, “Maybe we should just call the police,” Jean-Yves said, “What if it’s too late?” Clare argued continuing towards the direction from whence the scream came. “We’ll go with you,” Chasity said as the group hurried down the street.  

 Reaching the corner and looking down the alley, they saw someone or something holding a woman in the air, strangling her,

 

“What is that?!” Karine asked in horror. Clare watched in horror as the woman struggled against a shadow! Wisps of shadow danced in the night air. It was hard to see where the creature started and ended, “Dear, God!” Chasity said in disbelief. The woman reached out to Clare, “Help…me,” she cried. Clare froze. She had seen this before.

“We have to help her!” Clare said hysterically, “Clare!” her friends yelled, chasing after her as she ran towards the shadow, “Stay back!” a voice cried out, causing the group to stop in their tracks. A low growl escaped the creature, and a beam of light flew past it, causing it to drop its victim, who was pale and emaciated. The beast roared into the night, “Crescent Beam!” that voice cried out as another beam struck the monster, igniting it in light and causing it to erupt and disappear!  

Clare and her friends stood in awe, looking up to see a woman standing with her arms crossed on the rooftop above. The woman wore a blue, white, and red sailor suit with a red chest bow and a navy sailor collar hanging over silver-laden epaulets. Her navy pleated skirt swayed in the breeze. With a graceful bound, the woman joined the group on the ground, her navy ankle-strapped heels clicking on the pavement. She looked at the group,

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, her blue eyes looking them over from behind her red mask, “Y-Yes,” Clare stammered, “But that girl…I think she…she.” Clare tried to say, pointing to the woman who lay still where the creature left her, “Call an ambulance,” the woman ordered walking over to the girl, kneeling beside her. Jean-Yves, still shocked by the ordeal, managed to call the ambulance. Clare stood with Himeko, Chasity, and Karine, watching the woman wave her gloved hand over the girl, “Venus Power, Love Crescent Shower,” she said softly, showering the girl in sparkles of light. The girl’s color returned, and her worn appearance was lively once more, a peaceful sigh escaping her as she breathed normally. The woman sighed in relief and stood up, “She’ll be okay,” she said, turning to Clare and her friends, “Who are you?” Clare asked in wonder. The woman smiled, her blonde hair flowing in the wind, “I am the sailor-suited soldier of justice, Sailor V,” she said, and with that, leaped into the air and disappeared into the night. “Sailor V?” Clare whispered looking out at the night sky.

[lasoldier]

Prologue ~ Awakening

"Venus..." a silhouetted figure called for her as they reached out to her. The details were hazy but so familiar. "Endymion!" another voice screamed, and Dawn gasped, waking up! She sat up, her eyes wet with tears, and her heart ached. Her hand rested on her chest, a feeble attempt to ease her heart. It was the same dream. She couldn't recall when the dreams started, but she felt so sad when she woke up from them. She didn't have the dream every night, but when she did, a new, subtle detail revealed itself, like the silhouette or the voice. While sad, Dawn couldn't help but want to go to that person in her dreams. That person needed her, didn't they? "Venus," she whispered to herself. That's what they said. "Endymion," she said in a hushed voice as if saying the name out loud would summon the person into her bedroom. She couldn't help but wonder, who was calling out to her, or was she calling out to them? Who is Venus? Who is Endymion? What happened? Why was it all so sad? Dawn wanted to know the answers to these questions, yet a part of her was afraid of the answers her dreams would reveal to her.

Dawn threw off her soft white linen comforter that decorated her soft, plush bed and got out of bed. She tugged her large, oversized Traditionnel l'Grâce European Tour t-shirt over her orange pajama shorts, her bare feet padding on the wooden floors of her top-floor apartment located just west of Paris.

Dawn went into the kitchen and grabbed a cold bottle of Evian from the under-counter refrigerator. Dawn opened the bottle, took a cool sip of water, and sighed. She glanced at the nook and through the large sliding glass doors, she noticed a faint glow of light. Dawn set the water bottle down and walked over to the doors, the glow becoming more prominent.

Sliding the door open, Dawn walked out onto the rooftop and passed the wooden patio table. The night was cool and silent. Lights decorated the dark city below, and in the distance stood the shining Eiffel Tower, and the Moon hung in the sky, shining just as brightly. That's when she felt it. The light was the Moon, and it shone brighter and brighter until Dawn was bathed in its light!

A soothing feeling of calmness and comfort washed over her, and the ache she felt in her heart subsided. When Dawn opened her eyes, sparkles of moonlight danced around her. She watched in awe as the fragments of light swirled about her and coalesced in front of her, creating a golden crescent-shaped compact.

The mysterious object floated before her, seemingly offering itself to her as a gift. Dawn reached out for the compact but hesitated. She felt something just as it was within her grasp. A feeling of trepidation entered her mind, and her hand drew back ever so slightly. At that moment, Dawn knew that by taking the compact, her life would change forever, and knowing that scared her. She remembered the figure that appeared in her dream and how they called out to her. Was this an answer to her dream?

Dawn looked at the compact. She knew in her heart that it belonged to her. So why not take it? She marveled at the compact's gilded casing; traces of reflected moonlight highlighted the embellished stars on the covering, each interspersed neatly along the curve of the crescent between embedded gold gems. At the center of the crescent, a prominent, round ruby glistened. Then, the compact clicked open, and Dawn watched as it revealed its crescent-shaped mirror inlay.

Dawn looked at herself in the mirror of the compact, her skin glowing in the moonlight that shined down on her. A blinding flash of white light beamed from the mirror! Dawn instinctively raised her arms to shield her eyes, and when she lowered them, she was surrounded by a vision of outer space! Dawn watched in wonder as she seemingly floated in the starry expanse. "You are chosen. You must awaken..." a voice echoed. Dawn's blue eyes cast upward toward the Moon. Was the Moon speaking to her? The voice sounded so familiar to her. "Awaken?" she asked the shining orb. As if responding, the moon shined brighter. "Fate has chosen you to carry out your calling..." the voice echoed as white light enveloped everything.

Dawn blinked, and the bright white moonlight was gone. All that remained was the soft glow of the Moon illuminating the rooftop and the open compact, floating before her. "The mirror reveals the truth," Dawn said, repeating the words, and looking at herself in the mirror. The mirror's reflection flashed, and Dawn's appearance changed!

Watching herself in the mirror, Dawn reached up to her face, pulling the red cat eye mask from her eyes. She looked at the mask in her hands, noticing she was now wearing white gloves with gold trim. Dawn began to turn herself this way and that to see the strange outfit that had appeared on her body!

Her bare feet were adorned in a pair of navy ankle-strapped heels. Her orange pajama bottoms were gone, and in their place, a navy pleated skirt with red trim hung from her waist. Her large t-shirt was now a white short-sleeved top accented in red with navy blue trim on the sleeves. A large red bow was fastened to the front of the shirt with a circular golden pendant at its center. The collar of the shirt was a navy, red-trimmed sailor collar that hung over her shoulders where silver-laden epaulets engraved with flourishes and crescent moons along its trim were attached.

Dawn marveled at herself in the mirror. Her gloved hands reached to her neck, touching the shining gold moon on the white choker. A crescent moon mark glowed in the center of her forehead. Her hair was styled, partly clipped with a red bow, while the rest of her hair cascaded down her back in waves. Dawn stroked her blonde hair in the mirror. Was it longer than it normally was? Suddenly, the mirror flashed once more, and Dawn looked at herself again, noticing that everything was back to normal! Her strange outfit was gone, but the Crescent Compact remained floating in front of her.

The memory of that night faded away from Dawn's mind, bringing her back to the present moment. She looked at the Crescent Compact in her hand. She was right. Her life was forever changed when she claimed the compact that night, and strange things began to happen, or maybe they were always happening, and now she had become aware of them.

After claiming the compact, Dawn instantly knew, or remembered, how to transform into Sailor Venus. She admitted to herself that the name seemed odd at first, but the name fit her new identity like a glove. Dawn's prowess and newfound powers as a Sailor Soldier were soon put to the test. Mysterious Phantoms began appearing throughout Paris, terrorizing the civilians. While dispatching the Phantoms became easier over time, Dawn didn't have the answers she sought from her dream. She kept having the same dream, and with her new powers, she only had more questions.

Why was all of this happening?

Why was she chosen?

Were there others like her?

Deep down she knew, this was just the beginning...

[lasoldier]

The rising star from Infinity Entertainment, Aurora d’Amour, has released her latest single!

[lasoldier]

Happy Moonie Monday, Guardians!

6 more days until Usagi-chan’s birthday and the release of the first chapter of the La Soldier fanfic!

I’ve been busy world and character building and I’m excited to get the story started!

I wanted to take a moment to share my mystery fan cast for my main characters! I will be revealing them as the story progresses!

Thanks for the words of encouragement and support with this project! It means so much and keeps me going!

- G

[lasoldier]

Happy Moonie Monday, Guardians!

6 more days until Usagi-chan’s birthday and the release of the first chapter of the La Soldier fanfic!

I’ve been busy world and character building and I’m excited to get the story started!

I wanted to take a moment to share my mystery fan cast for my main characters! I will be revealing them as the story progresses!

Thanks for the words of encouragement and support with this project! It means so much and keeps me going!

- G

[lasoldier]

Congrats on the new project! However, have you considered marketing it not in a way that sounds like “I will make a great poignant deep beautiful story unlike the original!”

A lot of us like the original and think it’s already great poignant deep and beautiful. I personally would have loved a Paris!AU megafic, but the way you’re wording it in every post is just so offputting to me as a fan of over 30 years.

Oh wow, thank you! I didn’t realize that it sounded offputting.

I by no means intended to diminish the original story in any way, shape, or form. I will definitely make that change as you suggested across all platforms.

This is a labor of love, please charge any misgivings to my head and not my heart. This story is my way of paying homage to the original.

I appreciate you sharing that with me.

[lasoldier]

I’m excited to participate in UsaMamo Week 2024 for the first time! I’m already getting ideas for the prompts!

UsaMamo Week 2024 Prompts

UsaMamo Week 2024 will be the week of July 28 - August 3! We’re posting these prompts early to help you prepare.

See below for the daily prompts. Every day has two prompts to pick from – you are not required to use both. You can do as many or as few day’s prompts as you are inspired to do. We’re accepting any form of creative work – stories, drabbles, poetry, drawings, digital art, webtoons, moodboards, photography, cosplay… whatever medium speaks to you!

Rules:

Usa/Mamo must be the central pairing

Any rating is OK as long as you flag / label correctly

All types of fanwork are accepted

You can do one prompt or more, there’s no minimum

Tag a Tumblr post with #usamamoweek2024 and/or @usamamoweek2024 to be reblogged by this account

Add to the collection on AO3 (this is optional) and tag #usamamoweek2024

If requested, we will share AO3 works on Tumblr

Have fun!

Daily Prompt List for July 28 - August 3

Day 1: First glance / Masquerade

Day 2: Meet the Parents / Second chance

Day 3: Inspired by a Song

Day 4: Free day

Day 5: Thunderstorm / Stargazing

Day 6: Coffee / Heat Waves

Day 7: Great Outdoors / Lifeguard

[lasoldier]

La Soldier takes elements, mythos, and lores from the various incarnations of Sailor Moon to re-invent and recreate our favorite characters and stories in new, rich, and complex ways!

“Never recreate places from your memories, always imagine new places. Only use details. A street lamp or a phone booth…”

- Leonardo DiCaprio (Inception)

Learn more at LaSoldier.net

[lasoldier]

What is La Soldier? Learn more at LaSoldier.net

[lasoldier]

Learn more about the author at LaSoldier.net

[lasoldier]

A Sailor Moon Story re-imagined...

I am happy to announce that I am officially writing my La Soldier, Sailor Moon Fan-fiction!

I have been busy these past weeks creating my comprehensive writing bible that will help guide this storytelling and I have been eager to share!

La Soldier is not a paint-by-the-numbers retelling of the Sailor Moon manga/anime.

La Soldier is unique re-telling that takes the lore and mythos of the various incarnations of Sailor Moon to provide in-depth and complex lore with interconnected, character-rich, stories that are compelling and poignant unlike the original.

Weekly chapters of La Soldier will be released on Moonie Mondays starting June 30th!

The chapters will be available via the La Soldier website, AO3, and Wattpad!