I pressed the heels of my palms into my forehead. I loved Tia, but sometimes she was beyond frustrating. “I’m not like you. I don’t want thrills and danger.”
“I’m not telling you to sing in front of the king. Being an opening act is the next natural step after crushing open mic.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were the best, and you know it.” She thumped her chest. “You know it right here. Stop allowing your head to limit you. But anyway, the point isn’t whether you were the best or not. The point is you have been given a chance, and it would be a crime not to take it.”
“I guess.” She was right. I could fail, but I could also win. And if I failed, so what? Yes, people would make fun of me, especially Madam, but it wouldn’t last forever. Sooner or later, they would move on to ridiculing someone else. As for Victor, he wouldn’t be happy, but he would get over it eventually.
“You need to start believing in yourself, Halia. You don’t need the permission of others to go after your dream. If you wait for others to approve of your choices, you’ll never get anywhere. You need to first believe in yourself, and then when you do, others will believe in you too.”
I was speechless. No one had ever put it that way. The orphanage had always communicated that if others didn’t believe in me, I wasn’t worth it. If others didn’t love me, I wasn’t lovable. But what if Tia had a point? What if I had to have self-confidence, self-respect, and self-love first before I could expect others to believe in me, love me, and respect me?
5
19th July
Deciding that maybe Tia was right, and a lot of my unhappiness was coming from my uncertainty and lack of confidence, I was determined to try a new approach to life.
Starting small, I went ahead and braided my hair even though Victor preferred it loose. It took me an hour and four tries to master the intricate French style, but it was totally worth it. The braid lay on my right shoulder, and the top of it snaked like a crown around my head. Certain that even Victor would like this new hairstyle, I left the boarding house with a spring in my step and a wide smile.
In less than ten minutes, I reached the night market where I was supposed to meet Victor. As usual, he was late, but I didn’t mind, excited to browse the various merchandise stalls. Most of the goods, Badalan silks, pearls, and fragrant teas on balanced scales, I couldn’t afford, but it was still fun to look at and know what the latest trends were.
I was browsing through turquoise rings when someone cleared their throat behind me.
“Excuse me, are you Halia?”
I turned around, not recognizing the twenty-something girl. “Yes. Are you staying at Madam’s Boarding House?”
She shook her head. “No, I saw you perform at Daydream. You were amazing.” She motioned her friend over who was tasting a fig jam. “It’s really her—Halia.”
“Oh my gosh! You’re amazing.” The girl threw away the disposable spoon and pulled out a notepad from her backpack. “Will you sign this?”
I blinked at her stupidly, unable to do or say anything.
She handed me a pen. “It’s to Marisol.”
The notebook was completely empty. “Are you sure? This is brand new.”
She smiled. “Yes. I plan to fill it up with my poems. It was so inspiring to watch you on stage. It would really mean a lot to me if you could autograph it.”
“Sure.” I took a moment to consider what to write.
To Marisol, all the best with your poems! Halia
“Thank you.”
Marisol’s friend handed me a romance book. “Would you mind signing this?”
I took the romance novel. “But I’m not the author.”
She shrugged. “I know, but I don’t have anything else with me, and I’m not sure when I’ll get to see you again.”
This was still confusing, but I decided to go along with it. “What would you like me to write?”
“Whatever you want. My name is Carrie.”
To Carrie, I hope this book brings you lots of hours of joy! Halia
Judging by Carrie’s big smile as she read my inscription, she seemed to be satisfied with what I had written.
“Are you going to perform again?” she asked.
“You’re the opening act on Friday, aren’t you?” Marisol chimed in.
“Ahem, yes.” Word sure was spreading fast. A tingle in my forehead made me look past the girls to find Victor striding toward me. I needed to get rid of the girls. This was so not the way I wanted him to learn about my singing.
“At Daydream?” one of the girls asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I must go now.”
“Oh.” They sounded disappointed.
Not wanting to appear rude, I said, “I have a date.”
The girls giggled. “Of course, you do.”
Unsure what they meant by that, I gave them an apologetic smile and walked toward Victor, feeling their gazes on me.
“Who were those broads?” Victor asked, his face a storm cloud.
“No one. Just some girls I ran into.” My voice was too high-pitched. I needed to take it down a notch.
“Then why were they acting as if they were your best friends?”
I glanced backward. “I just met them.” The girls chose that moment to wave the book and notebook I had signed.
“What is that?”
I groaned and faced Victor, who was squinting. Even though I doubted he could make out my signature, I had the feeling the cat was out of the bag.
“They asked me to sign something for them.”
“Why?” His tone was annoyed, but his face showed puzzlement.
“Let’s go somewhere quieter, and I can explain.”
He took my hand and led me to an empty bench. As soon as we sat down, he faced me. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I crossed my legs and then recrossed them. “It’s nothing bad. In fact, it’s something good. I went with Tia last night to Daydream.”
He scowled, and his eyes narrowed to slits. “You went to a bar owned by a demon?”
“He was really nice.”
Victor jumped up. “Do you hear yourself? He was nice? Have you lost your mind?”
My arms trembled, and an apology was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t give in. Instead, I stood up and raised my head high. “I did not lose my mind.” I enunciated each word. “Lorenzo is very nice. He gave me the opportunity to perform on his stage.”
Victor face-palmed himself. “You embarrassed yourself in front of everyone?”
Tears sprang to my eyes. They weren’t tears of fear or pain, but tears of fury. “Why do you assume that I embarrassed myself? Is it so hard to imagine that I did well?”
Victor took a step back, scrutinizing me from head to toe. The urge to flinch, grab his hand, and take back my words was overwhelming, but I held firm. I had to stand my ground. Tia was right. I had to be strong if I wanted others to respect my wishes and values.
After the uncomfortable silence dragged on for a while, Victor stepped toward me and took my head in his hands. “What has happened to you, Halia? I’ve never seen you like this. Are you unwell?”
Was I overreacting? Was I embarrassing him and myself by having this outburst?
Quietly but firmly, I replied, “I like to sing. And I’m good at it.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t. It’s just that it’s a very tough industry, and people can be very mean.” He brushed my cheek. “You’re sweet, kind, and sensitive. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you, chew you up and spit you out.”
I glanced away. What if my success at the open mic night had been a fluke? Had the girls really wanted an autograph from me, or were they making fun of me? It wasn’t normal to ask someone who had performed at one open mic for an autograph. I wasn’t a star. I wasn’t even officially a singer.
“I really care about you, Halia. The world we live in is dangerous and cruel. I’m a patrolman. I see every day what people are capable of. I don
’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
I glanced back up at Victor. There was so much sincerity in his eyes, and yet, as much as I craved and wanted his care, I also wished he would take it down a notch and let me breathe. “I’m performing again this Friday.”
He let out a loud sigh, then brushed his lips against my forehead. “Did the demon name his price?”
I stepped back, confused. “What do you mean?”
“What does he want in return for letting you perform?”
“Nothing.” My anger from before sparked alive anew. “He thought I was really good. He asked me to sing because he wants good performers at his bar.”
Victor stuck his lower lip slightly out in a poor-you expression. “You have no formal training. No manager. Yet you believe this demon is hiring you because you’re the best? Not because he hopes to get...” He didn’t finish his sentence, but his gaze roaming over my body made it very clear what he was implying.
“Lorenzo isn’t like that!”
“And you know that after meeting him once?”
My cheeks heated as I remember Lorenzo’s hand brushing mine as he handed me the mic. Then there had been the banter between him and me. Despite this, I didn’t feel like he expected me to do anything I didn’t want to just because he was giving me an opportunity. I didn’t feel any pressure from him. We had engaged in a mutual, playful give and take, enjoying each other’s company.
Apparently, my emotions showed on my face because Victor’s hands dug into my shoulders, and he shook me. “Wake up! You’re under his spell!”
“No.” I tried to free myself from Victor’s grip but couldn’t.
“He has given you something, mixed something into your drink. Did you accept any food or drink from him?”
“Yes, but—”
“I knew it.” Victor’s grip on my shoulders tightened enough to bruise. “He’s messing with your mind. I’ll kill him for this!”
I shoved my hands against Victor’s chest. It wasn’t as much my physical strength, but the shock of me fighting back that made him let go of me. He wasn’t used to me resisting. I wasn’t used to standing up for myself, but I liked how it felt.
I crossed my arms, stepping far enough away that Victor couldn’t touch me and used my firmest voice. “Lorenzo didn’t put a spell on me. He was very professional and friendly.”
“That’s what he wants you to think. Then, once he gets you into his bed, he’s going to throw you away like a dirty sock.”
“He isn’t like that!”
Victor smirked. “Did he tell you that? Or could you sense it?” His words dripped with mockery. “You know what will happen once he’s done with you?”
I shook my head, not wanting to hear what he had to say.
“Once he uses you and throws you away, you’ll be damaged goods. Nobody will want you.” Victor advanced, and I stepped back. “I care about you, Halia. I want to marry you. But I don’t want a demon whore for my wife or the mother of my children.”
Even though he hadn’t touched me, it felt as if he had slapped me across my face. The emotions bubbling up in me were too much. Unwilling to break down in front of him and let him win, I turned around and sprinted, my feet barely grazing the ground as hot streaks of tears slid down my cheeks.
At first, I didn’t know where I was running to. At first, I was simply running away from Victor and the painful feelings swirling within me. Yet somehow, in the end, I found myself right in front of Daydream.
A part of me wanted to back away, return to the boarding house, and throw myself onto my bed. But I wasn’t ready to explain to Tia, who was having a night in after a busy week, what was going on. I wasn’t ready to face her and tell her about Victor’s reaction. I also didn’t want her to solve my problems. I had to confront this head-on. If even a tiny part of me believed that Victor was right, I needed to talk to Lorenzo. This issue had to be brought out into the open.
I wiped away the tears on my cheeks, took a deep breath, and entered the bar.
Without any live music going on and it still being fairly early in the evening, there were only a few people sitting at the bar, having drinks by themselves or speaking quietly with a friend.
A female bartender I hadn’t met last time was pouring a glass of wine. Lorenzo was nowhere in sight.
I stepped to the bar. “Can I speak with Lorenzo, please?”
“He’s in his office,” the white-haired girl replied. Even though she looked like she was no older than fourteen, I had the feeling she was much older, at least, in her mind. Her black eyes were a stark contrast to her flowing, almost waist-length hair. “I can let him know you’re here.”
“Please do. I’m Halia.”
She turned and slipped behind the black door. Returning a minute later, she motioned for me to follow her. “Lorenzo will see you now.”
My stomach tightened. Was it wise to go into Lorenzo’s office by myself? Was this a trap? Nonsense. I was just allowing Victor to get into my head, letting what he had said to me affect me.
The door closed behind me, and I found myself in a small office illuminated with gas lamps. Cabinets lined one wall, and a large, oak desk occupied most of the space. Lorenzo was sitting behind it, poring over some papers. When I entered, his gaze shot up toward me. “Halia, please take a seat.”
I did, sinking into the soft leather. Unsure where to begin, I folded my hands in my lap and surveyed the cabinets, wondering what they held.
“What’s going on?” Lorenzo tilted his head.
“I need to talk to you about opening for the Dark Quartet.”
He nodded. “Are you upset I put you down without talking to you first?” His voice was filled with genuine concern.
“No, I’m grateful for the chance, but I don’t understand why you chose me.”
He leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I believe in you. I think you can do it.”
“Did you expect me to do anything in return?”
Lorenzo’s silver brows furrowed. “Well, I hope you will put on a good performance.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I mean. I want to know if you expect me to give you something in return for providing this opportunity.”
He chuckled. “If I did, I would be a very bad salesman for not having mentioned it until now.” His mirth disappeared. “Why? What do you think I want in return?”
Heat streamed into my face, and I turned away, unable to take his intense violet-green gaze any longer.
“I see.” Lorenzo rose from the table and headed over to the cabinets. He opened one and, ignoring the decanters filled with alcohol, poured himself water from a jug. After emptying his glass in one go, he faced me. “I thought we had settled that question last time. Not all demons are bad or into deception.”
“We have, but…”
He crossed his arms. “Is that what you plan to do, question me every time you see me? How would you feel if I questioned your goodness every time?”
I rose and stepped toward him. “It’s not like I don’t trust you.”
He gave a tiny shake of his head. “Hard to believe, given your words and actions.”
I looked down at my hands, pushing my nail bed back. “I’m seeing someone. I think he’s jealous of me working with you.”
Lorenzo sat back down at the table. “I see. Do you expect me to talk to him and explain that my intentions are pure? That I’m only trying to run a business here and give a rising talent a chance, not steal his woman?”
His words made me want to disappear into thin air. He must think me a spineless coward. How I wished I hadn’t started the conversation. If only I believed in myself more, I wouldn’t have let Victor undermine my confidence and convince me Lorenzo could only be interested in me for ulterior motives.
I sat down once more and forced myself to look Lorenzo straight in the eye. “I grew up in an orphanage. I’ve never had anyone besides Tia to show any interest in me. When I came here a
few months ago, Victor rescued me and made my life easier in many ways. But lately, he’s been moody. I think he’s under a lot of stress from his work. I don’t want to ruin what I have with him for a possibility that is only real in my head. I want to sing, but I don’t want to mess up my life. The opportunity you’re giving me is amazing. I know I should be overjoyed, and I am, but I’m also terrified.”
Lorenzo leaned forward. “If what you have with this guy is real, how could you ruin it by pursuing your passion?”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I swallowed them. I had cried enough for one day. “I don’t know. He doesn’t want me to sing or perform.”
Lorenzo was silent for a long moment. “Do you want to sing?”
“More than anything.” The fervor of my words surprised me, but once they came out, it was as if a dam had broken. “Singing is my thing. It gives me joy. When I was on the stage, I felt alive like I had never before. I was on top of the world.”
“Do you think any man is worth giving up your dreams for?”
I swallowed hard. “Doesn’t love require sacrifices?”
Lorenzo gave a bitter chuckle. “I used to think so. A long time ago, I contorted myself for a female. It nearly destroyed me. I can’t stop you from making the same mistake I did. But ask yourself this: If tomorrow, either your voice disappeared forever or the man you’re seeing, which would devastate you more?”
I reached for my throat, guilt overwhelming me as I whispered, “My voice. It would be like a part of me was ripped from me.” I shook my head quickly. “I’m an awful person for thinking this. I’m too attached to my talents and needs.”
“No, that’s your healthy sense of survival and self-esteem. You should develop that.” Lorenzo smiled, and his violet-green eyes sparkled with warmth. “Your voice is an integral part of who you are. It’s much bigger than you know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’ll see. The world is changing, and so are you.”
I didn’t know how to reply to this cryptic statement, so I simply asked, “You really think I’m ready to perform in front of a huge audience?”
Halia: Daughter of Cinderella Page 6
