Refreshing Reviews

Prince of Peace, control my will, Bid this struggling heart be still; Bid my fears and doubtings cease, Hush my spirit into peace.

---Anonymous



Chapter 1:

Four years later. . .

Pain, disgust, hurt, hatred, unloved, fear. I could go on and on about the feelings that I have kept locked inside me for years, and my distrust towards the ones around me. If I could have chosen a life, it would not have been this one. My heart is wounded and I forever feel like taking revenge on those who caused it. Like a hurricane, I fight with my demons night and day. I’m shattered and scattered in the wind like grey ashes. To care or to love again is too hard; it is much easier to just inflict pain on others. Am I selfish for wanting to be freed of this so called ‘privileged ’ life that I’m forced to go through day after day? No! I want to be free! Free to make mistakes and not be a disappointment. Free to be me and not the image you want me to be. Today I was supposed to be going to therapy due to the last suicide attempt, but I do not see the point in wasting the man’s time. By the time you get this letter mom, I should be dead.

Marcus.



Marcus Barceló scanned over the letter in his hand, with a critical eye. Satisfied, he folded and shoved it in his shirt pocket, before he morosely lay back against the tile restroom wall. The blade was there, precisely over a prominent vein in the crease of his forearm. For just a few hours, he wanted to be numb again. It was the only thing he thought about, as he held the blade over his previously scarred arm. He did not want to carry these unhealthy thoughts. Nor did he want to feel the affliction of guilt welling up inside him. Whenever those feelings came, he was dangerous (more to himself than others). Marcus took a good, long look at the pulse that very vein carried. He felt his stomach churn at the thought of the blade opening it. Cut deep enough and he’d just float away into nothingness, never to wake up again. But he had planned this night in a particular order and needed to stick with the plans.

Who would ever think that a modern twenty-two year old “aristobrat” like him would be suicidal? He was the guy everyone wanted to be. . .everyone except Marcus himself. His world had toppled with the chain reaction of domino blocks. His life had become diseased; rotten, decaying and fatal. The feelings had evolved right after the death of his brother Lucas. A death that his family was unable to recuperate---especially Marcus himself, since he was the one who caused it. His parents did not repose his guilty feelings either. Though not spoken out loud, his mother’s actions indicated that she wished Marcus had died instead of her first son. Even his father constantly enunciated that he was incomparable to Lucas. That his own parents affirmed what he himself already felt, further marred Marcus’ wounded feelings.

Marcus moved the blade up his arm and pressed down on his tender tan flesh. Gradually, he began to slice the skin to an open. The first trickle of blood travelled slow and steadily down to his forearm. He had found a new release for the violent and depressive thoughts he bore within him. The self-destructive path had begun as recent as last month. Slicing his arms, legs and torso with razors. The scarring would be followed by violent outburst that led to blackouts and him waking on mornings with bloodstains on his sheets. For two weeks, Marcus struggled to resist the urge of exploding into that blind rage. He was doing so well at deterring himself---only to give into to those voices in his head once again. Marcus’ palm closed then opened. He felt the electrifying sting that broke him out into cold sweat and paralyzed his system with its agonizing pain. Yes, cutting the wrist was a precarious work of art that should only be done by a dexterous artist. Like the literal drugs themselves, he wanted more of it. More of the releasing feeling. He wanted to go deep. He wanted to cut until he could feel that emotional need no more. However, the blade lingered over his arm as if someone was holding his hand and stopping him from completing the process. If there were a God who cared, he would stop me from committing suicide. His mind roiled.

Marcus’ head jerked up after the opening and slamming of the bathroom door against the tile wall. His friend Shane sauntered in and called out to him.

“What’s taking you so long bro? We’ve been waiting like forever for you outside.” Shane said. He turned and inspected his appearance in front the mirror wall.

Marcus closed his eyes, contemplating if he was grateful for Shane’s interference. Marcus pulled on his blazer that was hanged on the door’s hook and tucking the razorblade back into his handkerchief, stood up. There was no need for unnecessary questions to arise for the length of time he was in here.

“Don’t tell me you’re hiding out in the bathroom.”Shane added. He knew Marcus sometimes had the tendency to isolate himself from others. The second toilet door was opened and Marcus stepped out. Shane smoothly turned, leaned against the marble sink counter and smiled.

“Finally.”

“I just needed a moment. I still have to settle with the idea that I’m no longer in England and I’m back here.” He explained as he walked to the sink. Right hand in his pocket.

Shane grinned and placed his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Relax, you’re home again and everything is going back to the way it’s supposed to be.”

Marcus chuckled at Shane’s excitement.

“We’re not in high school any more Shane. A lot of things have changed over the years.”

“Like what? Everyone may have gone in different directions but nothing much has changed. Right now, we’re just glad that Marcus Barceló is back in Malabar beach. Everyone is going crazy man. You’ve been away for too long my friend.”

Marcus pretended to laugh with his old buddy. Sadly, that was just the problem. He did not want to go back to the way things were. He dreaded it. For him, life in Malabar was not as beautiful as his friends had thought. There was the burden of upholding the Barceló name, constantly keeping up appearances and pleasing everyone except himself. Not one of his friends had a clue what he was planning to do tonight.

“Let’s go.” Marcus said and walked back out into the restaurant.

Marcus headed out to the restaurant’s terrace that his friends reserved for the entire night. A welcome back dinner was arranged by his girlfriend for just the seven old friends. Once again, he felt as if he was back in St.York’s high. He looked around at the familiar faces. Orlando the player, Shane the captain of the football team, his cousin Kat the drama queen, Selene the cheerleader and Stacy the party girl. Standing in the middle of the room, Marcus spotted his father Michael. Orlando and Trevon’s attentions were held tentatively as he chatted and poured wine into everyone’s glasses. The mere sight of Michael brought back unpleasant memories. Marcus instantly wished that the man had not come. Selene handed Marcus a glass of wine as Michael turned his attention to him.

“I want to present a toast to my son Marcus.” He began as he raised his glass.

My son, that’s a new one. The man treats me more like an asset than his flesh and blood.

“I see that you left here a boy and came back a man.”

Orlando playfully shagged Marcus’ hair while his friends laughed, but Marcus only responded with a lopsided smile. When the laughing subsided, Michael continued.

“Now that you’re a man, join me in building and expanding our company’s empire. It’s time you step up as my son.” Michael extended his hand for Marcus’ taking.

Selene looked at Marcus, eyes glistening as she waited for his response. She wanted to be part of that future in Álvaro winery. The company brought in millions in profit yearly. Marrying an heir to Álvaro, would secure her family’s own future of repositioning their status, after her father caused them to go bankrupt last year. The Barcelós owned the largest Vineyards in Spain. The business expanded from Spain to America, Argentina, France and Japan, exporting wine to over 140 restaurants in these countries. Her family would once again gain respect when Marcus had her hand in marriage.

“I went away to study civil engineering dad. I was planning on going to China by the end of the summer and continue in that area. Working for you is fortunately not part of my plans.” Marcus said.

Michael sniggered as he dropped his outstretched hand and rested the half empty bottle of Las Moras wine on the table.

“So you plan on establishing yourself by building towers for the rest of your life?” Michael ambled closer to him. “You better put away that childish hobby. Real men don’t build towers, real men build empires and you’re not gonna be more successful than you are once you become a member of our company.”

Marcus did not reply and Michael became chafed by his delayed response. “Marcus sooner or later you’re gonna run this company anyway. I’m just giving you a head start by adding you on board.”

“I appreciate the offer dad, but I don’t think the direction I want to take is the same as yours.” Marcus finally said.

“And here I thought you were beginning to think like a man.” Michael said to him. A nerve twitched in Marcus’ jaw at the comment. Michael lifted Selene’s hand and kissed the air above it. “Thank you for the invite Ms. Porter, but it’s time I leave. I have a plane to catch in the morning.” He looked up at Marcus with contempt blazing his eyes before he exited the terrace.

“What were you thinking inviting him here?” Marcus asked Selene as they stood in front the water fountain.

“I thought that you would have wanted him here.”

“Well you thought wrong.” He snarled and headed towards the table.

As the waitresses were called in, Marcus caught unto two familiar faces. Faces he had not expected to see. Selene leaned towards him with an aversive expression on her face.

“Yes, Nadia Henderson and Kareen Joo. Those two work here now.” She said as if answering his unspoken question. She then looked at him with a malignant smile. “Why are you surprised, they’re still losers.”

Marcus watched as Kareen filled up the glasses with the Casillero del Diablo wine and Nadia lay down the main courses. The two girls had been rivals to Marcus and his friends back in St.York’s high. More so Nadia than Kareen. Kareen did her best to avoid them, but Nadia was the feisty one who moved from the Caribbean to the States in her third year of high school. She wasted no time in standing up for the students they took advantage of. Ever fearless, strong and free-spirited and that was why her presence always irritated him. Back in school, he was secretly envious of her. She was respected by teachers, set her own rules and was determined to stand out from a crowd. Something Marcus was never really able to do his entire life. He took a seat and watched at the way Nadia moved around gracefully setting the dishes on the table. She was a waitress, a job that will never be in his or his friends’ future. Yet, she moved as if her job was one people wished they had. Marcus looked Nadia over. She had cut her once full and dark hair that ran down to the center of her back, to the nape of her neck. Her work uniform seemed big for her body as if she was trying desperately to hide her curves. Other than that, he did not see much change in her or anyone else around the table.

Selene saw the way Marcus’ eyes were glued to Nadia and wondered why she was not the one holding his attention. Hadn’t she taken the time to beautify herself enough to captivate him? She wanted him to run back to her after four years of being apart. Now that college was out of the way and his future was obviously set, he needed to have her at his side. They were meant to be Malabar’s power couple. Both their mothers believed it and things were already being put into place for their future. A chill went up her spine every time Nadia’s eyes swept on her. Those piercing moonlight blue eyes of hers always made Selene uneasy and everyone else as well. Whenever Nadia looked at someone, they had the same uncomfortable expression as Selene did. All, except Marcus. He did not look away from those eyes when they fell on him. Chafed by Marcus’ fixated stare on Nadia, she decided to bring up old memories of where they stand.

“Ferbie dear,” Selene called out and Kareen turned around. “I need a refill.” She raised her glass and saw the blush that rose from Kareen’s neck before spreading across her cheeks.

“Ferbie!” Shane burst out laughing. “I haven’t heard that name since high school.” He said as Kareen filled Selene’s glass. “And what was Nadia’s name again?”

“She didn’t have a nickname. She was just an infectious disease to us.” Stacy said detestably and everyone laughed harder. Shane lolled back in his seat.

“I’m curious. . .how much money do you girls make?” He asked Kareen who hesitated before she answered.

“Seven hundred and fifty a week.”

“That’s how much I spend on my dog at her pet spa and that’s only grooming.” Kat snickered.

“Our gardener Victor makes way more than that. He gets like fifteen hundred a week.” Trevon added.

Selene looked up at Nadia while her friends talked about salaries and watched her place more wine in the wine buckets.

“I told you back then that you will never be part of our world.” She panned Nadia from head to toe. “Now look at where you’ve ended up. A server girl.”

Marcus’ right eyebrow jacked when he saw Nadia tense up, but didn’t respond. He expected her to come back with a snappy comment like she usually did. Instead, she calmly turned away from Selene. This wasn’t the Nadia he knew. Had time changed her defiant spirit? A nasty thought crept into Marcus’ head and determined to test Nadia, he dropped his knife and folk, sending a loud pang across the table.

“I ordered medium rare steak.” He shoved the plate aside, almost sending it flying off the table. “This steak is over-cooked.”

Nadia ambled up to him.

“You never said it was to be medium rare, if you did I would have made sure it was medium rare.” She said to him in disbelief. Her Trinidadian accent had faded, probably due to the amount of time she had spent in the States.

“Well maybe if you were more alert, you would do your job better and satisfy your customers.” He said to her and his glance tacked her.

Nadia was about to open her mouth again when Orlando pitched in.

“Do you want us to call the manager of this restaurant? The man said he wants medium rare, your job is to get whatever he wants.”

Nadia looked around at the faces that all watched and waited for her to do as she was told. Tampering down on her thoughts, she picked up the plate and headed to the kitchen.

Kareen appeared next to Nadia as she walked with the empty water glasses on her serving tray.

“Breathe Nadia.” She said.

“I am breathing.” Nadia replied. Her chest rapidly heaving up and down. She was ready to blow. Physically exhausted, Nadia’s patience was at an end. Knees cramping, back aching and feet swollen from working six hours straight, she had had enough. Still, she had two more hours of her graveyard shift to go! For the past six months, she had been working at Stone haven’s restaurant as a waitress. In an elite restaurant such as this, only the rich of their town Malabar could afford to dine and people like Nadia, served. The hours were long, the work tedious, but the money was good and as long as she could buy groceries at the end of each week, pay the bills and keep a roof over her and her fourteen year old sister’s head, then she could endure it. That was the only reason why she tried hard at keeping her temper in check. She needed to take care of her herself and her sister. Nadia plunked the plate on the counter so hard, its food shifted.

“I need a medium rare rib-eye steak ASAP!” She shouted through the arch above the boisterousness inside. “I wish we weren’t their waitresses tonight. They had no right to talk to us like that.” Nadia said as she paced back and forth.

Kareen looked at her reflection through the glass of the pocket doors. She tilted her head to the right.

“I don’t get it. The bracers are gone, I no longer dress weird, and I think I’ve developed into a half nice girl---so why do they have to call me that horrible name again?”

“Cause they can’t help themselves Kareen, they’re idiots.” Nadia paused when she felt the warmth of something thick and gooey coming down her left nostril. “Oh gosh, not now.” She groaned as she dabbed her fingers under her nose and saw that dark blood painted their tips. She reached for her handkerchief in her back pocket and holding back her head, kept the rag in place to stop the bleeding. “Jesus, Jesus, keep me from sinning.” She said as she slowly paced with her head lifted. The fact that she couldn’t get angry or hyper without bleeding from her nose or ear heightened her anger.

“Give me a peace, send a calming spirit, anything to keep me from slapping dat boy!” She yelled. “Ah tried holding my tongue, ah tried doing that ting with a soft answer turns away wrath, but it hard to stay silent when he just provoking meh to slap him, and if I go out there and he makes just the merest wrong comment, he gonna get slapped---hard!”

Kareen’s nostrils twitched as she stifled a laugh. As always, when Nadia was angry, her Trinidadian accent would come out and no matter how angry she got, Kareen always found it cute the way she talked. Hence why she sometimes, let out a snicker.

“I need to sit down.” Nadia suddenly said and quickly stumbled towards the stool in the corner. An instant migraine came, knocking her senseless. Her body was alerting her that she was stressed, she could tell by the oncoming migraine. The non-stop throbbing in her head was so powerful that every clinging and crashing sound in the kitchen set her nerves on end.

“You want some water?”

Kareen held unto Nadia’s arm when she began to sway.

“Yeah and I think I need my tablets. They’re at the side of my bag.” Nadia muttered as she leaned her head her back against the wall behind her. She felt as the pressure in her head kept expanding and expanding until it moved down to her neck and lodged itself between her neck and shoulders. Tonight the work had really taken a toll on her. She needed a break, but their manager Mr. Bossley would not allow her to sit for too long. Not when two other waiters were sent home earlier after suddenly falling ill. Kareen stooped in front her with a bottle of water and the two blue tablets in her palm.

“Thank you.” Nadia whispered and shakily held back her head and took them.

“You know if you tell Mr. Bossley about the Hyper-hernia, you wouldn’t have to work these long hours and maybe he wouldn’t push you so hard.”

“If I told every employer about the illness I have Kareen, then no one would hire me in the first place. They’d think I’m some kind of walking hospital case.”

The pocket doors opened and Mr. Bossley the manager tramped in. Kareen stood as soon as he appeared.

“Henderson!” He shouted out Nadia’s name and she closed her eyes from the irritation of his voice. “Why are you sitting in here when my customer is waiting for his correct order outside?”

“The cooks are still doing the steak.” Nadia said with a muffled voice. The man had to be blind not to see how tired she was.

“The Barcelós own the majority of stocks in my restaurant. I suggest you get off that stool and find a medium-rare rib-eye steak in mushroom sauce now!” He said and continued throughout the kitchen shouting orders. “Come on people, we have a full house tonight and we’re moving ridiculously slow!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take over.” Kareen offered her, but that was the last strike for Nadia. All reasoning melted and aggravated, she barged through the doors of the busy kitchen and pushed her way pass the cooks. When she reached the rack of raw steaks waiting to be cooked, she got the longest iron folk and stuck it into a steak.

“Oh lord, she’s not going to do what I think she is.” Kareen muttered and followed behind Nadia as she headed to the terrace.

Marcus sat listening to his friend’s conversation about a mysterious new resident when Nadia came and stabbed the raw stake in front him on the table.

“What the?” Trevon shifted in his chair when he felt the table shook while Selene’s glass of wine fell and ran down its center.

“Is this raw enough for you Mr. Barceló?” Nadia bent and asked Marcus. She could barely see his face. Her eyes were swimming and her nose was ruby red. The migraine was unbearable and all she felt was pain and the heat of anger swelling in her chest.

“Now all of you may not respect what Kareen and I do and I know you see us as pathetic,” She looked around the table at the stunned faces. “But not everyone is fortunate to be an heir to daddy’s business.” She looked back at Marcus.

“Yes the money may be small compared to what you have or to what your gardeners get and yes it isn’t a glamorous job, but we got to do it anyway and we don’t need people like you making it any harder on us.”

Nadia straightened and arrested Selene with her eyes.

“And her name isn’t Ferbie, its Kareen. K-A-R-E-E-N, got it?”

“Hendersonnnnnn!!”

Nadia heard her manger call out. He quickly headed towards the table with a sheepish expression.

“Your waitress just ruined our dinner.” Selene lividly stood and said.

“Nadia, I will see you in my office.” Mr. Bossley said. “And remove this steak from Mr. Barceló!” He yelled at Nadia. She did as she was told and quickly turned away. Marcus watched her stride off. He had not said a word while she talked. He knew that she couldn’t control her temper, it was a part of her whether she liked it or not. He was amazed however, to see that she would go this far, knowing the consequences and yet she did it anyway. He did not know anyone, friends or relatives who would dare do that.

“Sir I am so sorry for my employee’s rude behavior. The entire dinner would be on the house, including whatever else you request.”

The manager raised his hand and alerted for Kareen to clean up Nadia’s mess.

“I have only one request.”

“What will that be Mr. Barceló?”

Marcus lifted his glass of wine.

“Fire her.”