Your
Beauty is Our Dream
She prodded at
the mole on her left cheek with a thin finger. It was a dark orange
brown color and it was more a splotch than a blemish. The fluorescent
lighting shown down on her in an unflattering way, highlighting flaws
that would have otherwise been overlooked. Katarina saw the place
where the fine hairs on her upper lip were starting to regrow before
dully noting that her next appointment at the salon was just three
days away.
Katarina's
skin looked washed out in the mirror, with the wrinkles she had been
delaying since twenty-five finally winning the battle for existence
at thirty-two. She washed both hands in the sink under cold water
with pure organic vanilla scented soap, then shook off the excess
water with a flick of either wrist. She completed her morning regime
by massaging her face with both hands for twenty minutes, pulling her
skin almost violently up to down, left to right, and in small
circles.
She had washed
her body thoroughly with a lavender scented moisturizing bar before
applying an exfoliating sea salt scrub. She had raked the salt over
every corner of her body to remove any offensive dead skin left,
until everything glistened red and fresh as the day she was born.
The steam left
from the scolding hot shower lingered in the air making her flushed
and sticky with fresh sweat. She began her makeup routine by turning
on and positioning her magnifying mirror so that she could see even
the smallest details, even the most minor mistakes, for correction.
Katarina pressed down on the silver lid of the ornate glass bottle of
her new primer, then spreading the thin cream languidly over both
face and neck. She grimaced at the wet feeling underneath her
fingers.
She jumped when
her phone vibrated against the crowded marble vanity. Twenty-four new
emails. Sixty-seven new messages from people she didn't know. Three
texts from people she did. Katarina sighed with a sharp exhalation of
breath that fogged over a small circle on her mirror.
Next was
slathering green over the red splotches, then orange over the deeply
discolored area underneath her eyes, and finally the application of a
shade lighter than her own skin to highlight her already prominent
cheekbones. An involuntary scowl came over her face as the phone kept
vibrating against the counter, making a grating noise with every new
notification. She couldn't turn it off though. She didn't want to
miss something important.
The neighbors in
the apartment to the right were starting off the morning with a
screaming match again - their small dog screeching more than barking
to finish off the chaotic noise. It was something small, because she
carried it around in her arms whenever they met for a chat in the
hall. A Chihuahua? A dachshund, maybe? It didn't matter - it was
just as loud and shrill as its owners.
Katarina felt a
headache growing faintly from the back of her skull, just above the
nape of her neck. She hated headaches. The pain would start out small
with just an ache at the back of the head, but over the hours it
would grow the same way mold does on ignored fruit.
She pictured it -
the overripe strawberry that was her brain. You didn't notice it at
first, but there were spots of dark, slick rot growing around the red
fruit. The next time you saw it there were small white hairs growing
just out of sight, but the disease was spreading more and more with
every second. Slowly. Virulently. Then it is unsalvageable. Then
there is a pain so bad she can't move without a wave of nausea
pooling in her stomach, and the throbbing of her head being twisted
ever tighter in a vice.
After spending a
night tossing and turning from the medication that would upset her
stomach even more, Katarina would finally fall into a dreamless sleep
to awake fully recovered in the morning.
It was a cycle.
##
The waiter was a
young man, thin and listless looking. He took their order without
embellishment, spending no more time at their table than was required
to maintain the veneer of hospitality.
"I'll take
the cobb salad, but no cheese and no bacon. Dressing on the side."
Mel ordered without looking away from her menu.
"Avocado veggie
sandwich with a hot detox tea. Water too please." Katarina intoned
next, without looking away from her phone.
"I'll have
that right out."
Katarina glanced
up at her friend, taking in the bright orange lipstick and well
blackened long eyelashes over her doll like eyes. Mel had an
effortless beauty, without need for the extreme corrective measures
Katarina had to employ every morning and night. For her perfect
complexion, there was no need for hydrating balms and oil free full
coverage foundation. No, anything she applied was for fun and added
emphasis for an already pleasant feature. Any shade was perfect with
her coloring - any new trend she could pull off with ease.
The waiter
brought the food then gave a required smile before quickly walking
off to another table. Mel poked at the greens presented in front of
her.
"We haven't
done anything fun lately. We should have a girl's night!"
"I don't
know...what are you thinking of? Not that bar off seventh again?"
Mel gave a
mean-spirited laugh that made her mouth curl up at the edges.
"Ugh no. God
that place was a fucking dump. I mean the new place downtown. Chere,
I think. It's a club."
Katarina clicked
her black four-inch heel on the restaurants laminate floor. She was
picking at her food too, but with a shaky hand. She took a sip from
the grassy tasting herbal tea to hide her weakness, her face
twitching with another dull spike of pain. The headache was
threatening to get out of control if she didn't take something for
it soon.
"Yeah it looks
amazing from the reviews. Five-star rating and the drinks are great.
Do you think it's worth it, though? I'm really broke after we
went shopping last week." She joked with narrowed eyes.
"Aw come on, I
need it after the shit week I've had. You too, right? I'll invite
all the girls from the store so we can really party."
Katarina's mind
was already racing with the expectation of a night starting at ten
and ending at two. She would drink the rest of the money she had
saved, then find someone to hook up with before stumbling out of his
apartment the next morning. He would be tall, dark and handsome. He
would know how to dance. It was a perfect night.
"Okay, okay!
How can I say no?"
The waiter
returned to clear away their plates.
"Are you sure
you're done? Would you like a desert or drinks menu?" He recited
with a noticeable hint of irritation.
"I said we're
done. Just bring the check." Mel said with a glare that went
straight into the tired man's eyes, without remorse from either
party.
##
They first
spotted the store as they were walking down a line of shops with
windows full of the finest clothing, shoes and jewelry. Mel and
Katarina let their eyes linger over the newest designs from Chanel
and Christian Louboutin, then over the ubiquitous light blue boxes
framed by glass from Tiffany's. There were bright colored bags from
Michael Kors displayed next to the window for Gucci and an imported
luxury car dealership next door. All the people on this side of the
street knew enough to remark tastefully that the new displays were
good - but not too good.
There could
always be advances in luxury, taste, style. It was best not to be
overenthusiastic about anything.
Katarina caught
the glare of bright neon lights from within a side alley which could
only be seen at an angle from the main shopping district. It was
buried under awnings and balconies, but the neon sign and sleek
chrome lined windows gave the building enough elegance to compete.
"Let's go
over there - I've never seen this place before!" She said as an
afterthought as she left Mel gazing into the eyes of a rose gold
bedecked mannequin.
Katarina squeezed
her long body through the short opening in the alley, worrying about
dirtying her pristine white coat from the brick. She could smell
sewage coming from a manhole somewhere nearby, and the usual piss
scent from crowded city streets. She didn't even glance to see if
her friend was following behind.
The space the
front window occupied was narrow but enough for her to see a
beautiful display of models faces lined up from end to end. "YOUR
BEAUTY. OUR DREAM. "read the banner underneath in a swirling
cursive script. The faces were almost perfectly symmetrical, with
large eyes, high cheekbones and full, pouting pink lips. They looked
out at Katarina with a bemused expression. They were saying they were
ready for her to join them, up there in that window where everyone
could see.
Each model was
perfect: men with jawlines sculpted from stone, women with eyelashes
that went on for miles. Katarina wondered what service this place
offered before hesitantly walking up to the ornately decorated doors.
There were no other signs to shows hours, or to give any indication
of what was inside. She glanced around quickly before swinging the
door open with one strong pull.
Inside the bright
white light blinded her, making the silver colored front desk a blur
of metallic sheen. It was the only object in an entryway that looked
to be impossibly large for the thin space the building's exterior
occupied. There was a similarly brilliant white, thin computer screen
on top of the desk, but nothing else. The words on the wall behind it
repeated the slogan displayed on the banner outside "YOUR BEAUTY.
OUR DREAM."
Katarina could
feel the pounding in the back of her skull even though she had taken
her migraine medication after lunch. It was still spreading out,
still growing with all the voracity of a mold.
She cleared her
throat while peeking over to the right, where the wall opened into a
long, medically lit hallway lined with six silver doors on either
side. The marble floor and the metallic doors reflected the lights
back in weird directions, so that at some angles Katarina was blinded
while at others the corners of the building seemed dark.
"Hello?" Her
voice sounded strangled as it echoed through the empty building.
No one offered an
answer, or so much as the sound of a heartbeat, from down the
corridor. There were no decorations, no more pictures of models
smiling faces on the walls, and no trace of color.
Katarina was
starting to feel uncomfortable in the silence of the place when the
sound of automated chimes made her jump. She spun around to where the
thin computer screen displayed a menu with the words "Welcome" in
the same calligraphic script. Another three chimes rang out before an
unaccented voice began an introduction in perfect English.
"Hello, and
thank you for choosing us as your treatment center today! We welcome
you to our new downtown location. Please enter your name below and
the service you would like to receive."
She did as she
was told then pressed enter. The screen now showed a menu with four
different choices: One, Two, Three, and Four. Katarina stared at the
screen with a blank expression - there was no explanation for what
any of the choices meant. She assumed this was some sort of new
digital sign-in service for a salon, so that way they wouldn't have
to bother with a receptionist.
She made up her
mind with a shrug then pressed the second button on the touch screen.
"Thank you for
choosing your treatment option. Please wait while we process your
request."
The silence
resumed for what felt like an eternity before the screen finally
displayed another of the faces of the models from the outside.
"Please proceed
down the hallway to the left. Your personal treatment center is room
number six on the right side of the hall. We hope you enjoy our
service, and thank you for your loyal business. And remember Your
Beauty is Our Dream!"
The voice cut off
and the computer went dark. Katarina once again glanced down the long
hallway to see that, yes, the sixth door on the right had swung open
at a perfect right angle. She couldn't see anything beyond that,
though, as the reflection from the overhead light was piercing her
eyes once again.
She briefly
looked back at the front doors, but knew that she couldn't leave
without at least satisfying her curiosity first. Where had Mel gone?
She thought at the back of her mind. She normally would have called
me by now, but her phone hadn't made a sound since she came in. Oh,
well, they would meet up again after this.
Katarina's
heels were shotgun blasts as she made her way down to the only open
door. There were only large roman numerals from one to six to
differentiate one room from another, and no door handles on the
outside. It was all mechanized, and apparently tied back to the
console at the front. Amazing, she thought. Katarina didn't know if
she even had enough money in her bank account to pay for whatever
service this was - but that didn't matter. She would take out
another loan from her mother.
She walked into
the room without hesitation.
##
After finishing
her own shopping, Mel tried to call her friend repeatedly, with each
attempt becoming more frantic. Katarina never missed a call as a
matter of principle.
Mel was about to
give up when she walked by the alley on the way to her sedan, and
remembered Katarina's long blonde hair disappearing behind the
brick wall. She didn't want to go searching for her friend - all
she wanted was to go home and soak with a charcoal honey bath bomb.
It was quick dissolving and wouldn't even stain the tub. The
well-dressed saleswoman had assured her that it was the best way to
pull the toxins out of her skin. Toxins, she explained, that built up
in the body from everyday pollution and could cause skin damage and
premature aging.
But the alley was
right there, on the way back.
Mel maneuvered
through the crowded space and was surprised to see the bright neon
lights of a store front in such a dingy place. She couldn't
recognize the building but went inside the floral designed glass
doors to see only a front desk with a single computer.
She waited for an
attendant to show up before looking down the hall with annoyance.
There was a single door open at the very end. If no one was going to
wait on her then she would have to go find an employee herself.
Long legs carried
her quickly to the room, but inside it was pitch black. A disturbing
kind of darkness only available in space with no windows and no other
exits. The kind of dark you could distil into ink. Mel's hands
groped at the walls to find a switch but only felt their cold, smooth
surface.
She stepped
inside fully to look for a lamp when with a hum the fluorescent bulbs
turned on all at once. A little groan escaped her as she shielded her
eyes with a hand until they had adjusted enough to stop watering.
It was a moment
before she fully registered what she was seeing.
There was a large
chair in the middle of the room, the same kind used by dentists. It
was long and cushioned, leaning back so that the practitioner could
get to the mouth with ease. It was surrounded by wires and a small
steel coated box was connected to it on the left side.
Medical
instruments were laid out on a raised platform, and when Mel came
closer she could make out their details. There were scalpels,
tweezers, forceps, small circular saws, what she assumed was a drill,
and a larger saw with a straight blade. Without thinking, she touched
the button on the circular saw then nearly screamed when the thing
roared to life.
Was this a
doctor's office?
She inspected the
metal box to find that there were no buttons, no outlets, and no
displays. It was a perfect metal cube except for a robotic arm which
extended outwards. She realized with a shiver it was there to grasp
the implements on the table - the newest form of surgery, she
guessed.
It was then she
looked around the room and noticed a large display case, of the same
sort a jewelry store used to show the shine of its products. It was
large enough to take up the entirety of the back wall.
She peered down
and froze. Her heart seemed to stop for a beat and the blood rushed
through her ears.
There under the
glass was Katarina's face. Her eyes shown up at her from atop a
beautiful, serene smile. The most genuine expression Mel had ever
seen her friend make. The orange mole she had always hated was gone,
and so were any signs of aging she had accumulated over the years.
Her skin was practically luminous it was so bright, with lips a
natural but enviable shade of red. Fuller than the thin lips her
friend had always hated.
Mel couldn't
help but smile too. The skin of the face had been severed neatly,
before being placed on a realistic mannequin's head - a perfect
fit. There were still traces of blood dribbling down the sides, but
that would dry with time. If she looked closely she could see the
slightly ragged edges where the saw had cut, but it wasn't
noticeable.
She did not know
what had happened to her friend - how she could have been
transformed. She looked more beautiful and alive than the real thing.
She placed a hand
over the top of the case.
"I
envy you." She whispered to the glass.
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