Chapter 9. Crack

Chapter 9. Crack

Uno would look at me from time to time while we were eating breakfast. I ignored her for the most part, remembering how she teased me about eating like a horse on our very first meeting after mom's funeral. There were many things I wished to ask her. If I were to play my game, I could say that so far, she'd make the habit of either deflecting my questions, or resorting to irrational answers. Neither would get me what I wanted.

"Have you checked the other rooms?" she asked after taking her last bite. 

It took a moment to answer her. I couldn't tell if it was a trick question or an innocent one. "Some of them." There were unused guest rooms and a gym. Nothing that interested me. "Why?"

"I take it you haven't seen my dressing room."

"You have one?" I asked in jest. "I thought you only wear the same clothes, black."

"That's the only color that suits me," she said. Uno stood up, took her plate to the sink. "Meet me at the east side of the house after eating. We'll pick your clothes for tonight."

I wolfed down the food and did the dishes quickly. I didn't usually get excited over attending parties or meeting famous people. Mom wouldn't even let me accompany her in events, and I was sure she went to a lot for her job. However, I did love clothes. I hummed with anticipation at the thought of seeing a dressing room. Granted that Uno almost always wore black. It was still exciting.

Uno's stone and glass house was a big W-shaped building. In the middle was the living room and kitchen. Then, there were the left and right corridors. I've only stayed in the left side because that was where the rooms were. The right side was a big mystery. I haven't gone there to clean once. There were enough skeletons to uncover as it was. I didn't want to find out more.

"What's taking you so long?" Uno asked as she met me in the living room. "Is there a problem?"

I wiped my hands at the back of my jeans. "Nope. I washed the dishes first."

"Okay." She tilted her head to the right. "Let's go. It's the first door." 

The right part of the house looked uncannily like the left. She opened the door for me and stepped aside so I could go first. "It's like a huge walk-in closet," I murmured under my breath. I glanced reluctantly at Uno, asking for silent permission. She pushed me playfully until my foot was inside the boundary of the room. The open cabinets were almost as high as the ceiling. "How do you even reach that?" I said as I glanced at the top drawers. Uno pointed to a corner where a step ladder was situated.

The room was arranged meticulously. One side was solely for hung clothes. Even that was divided into different colors in the cabinet. I was wrong with the black statement from before. Her clothes rivaled that of a small store. I went further inside the room to see better. Most of the cabinets weren't equipped with doors, but some drawers were made with glass so you could see the contents.

The shelves were illuminated by LED lights, giving it a clean, modern appeal. I noticed that the right part of the room was dedicated for the shoes. Though Uno was mostly barefoot inside the house, there was an assortment of shoes to match every occasion. I went beside the table in the middle, looking at the LED lights that surrounded the frame. "This is where you prepare for an event?" 

"Sometimes. Sometimes in my bathroom if I'm not feeling it," she said. "Sometimes in my car if I'm running out of time. And if I'm really lazy, I go to the studio and let the staff do their job. I can't really say because each shoot, event, or party demands something different." Uno went in and trailed her hands on the shelves. "Like you said, I wear black anyway. Manager Chance was the one who insisted on getting all these clothes. I don't use it."

"That's such a waste," I said disdainfully. "Any girl would be happy with these."

"I'm not just any girl." She paused. "The event we're attending tonight is a masquerade." Her eyes twinkled. "The best part is it's not exclusively for celebrities or the rich and famous. It's for a charity event. The instructions in the invitation said that we should disguise ourselves convincingly so people won't recognize us."

"Will Bianca be attending? I've forgotten to mention that I met her by accident yesterday."

Her expression turned sour. "Bianca, my competition? If it's the same girl, you don't want to be associated with her."

"I don't see why. She seems like a cool person," I reasoned. "She even asked me to dinner, and I've been hearing good things about her."

"She's the reason I'm not number one," Uno said in a clipped voice. "Before you accuse me of being bitter, just know that Manager Chance and I agreed on the subject. Steer clear of her Riri. She's nothing but bad news. If you've known her long enough like I do, you'd notice that something is off with her."

"I don't think anyone is weirder than you." I smiled sweetly at Uno so she'd know I was kidding. 

"Let's just say Bianca is a different basket case altogether," she said. "Let's drop the subject." Uno gestured to one part of the room where the clothes with hangers rested. "You can choose a dress now."

"Would you like me to pick something for you too?"

She shook her head. "I'm not wearing a dress. I'll show you later. You're free to check each drawer and grab anything that might interest you."

Uno left me alone in the room, saying that she'd be back after thirty minutes to check what I picked. I stared at the shelves hesitantly. I've imagined having this kind of room a million times in my head. The difference was, it was more of a shop, where the clothes displayed were my creation. Instead of wanting to wear dresses like these, I preferred to make them.

If Uno wanted me to accompany her tonight, I had to take the role of a good manager. Maybe she was thinking that it was to be my introduction to the scene. The "date" thingy was her sweet way of telling me to dress appropriately. 

I rummaged inside the cabinet until I saw a black and silver dress. It was a tad too long for my taste, and I wasn't as tall as Uno to begin with. If I cut the dress and made alterations here and there, maybe it would work to my favor. I dashed to my room to get the materials I needed for the project. 

Later, Uno peeked inside the room and found me seated on the floor, by the table. "Should I even ask?" she said.

"Go away. I'm working."

"Okay." She pouted. "Nice choice by the way. I'll ready our masks."

By nightfall, my date was dutifully waiting for me outside, by the Hummer. Instead of wearing a dress like me, she was clad in a well-fitted black suit, complete with white gloves, a black top hat, and a cane in her hand. She removed her hat and bowed to me like an ever pleasing gentleman in the 18th century. "Good evening Milady," she said as she took my hand. "Goddesses have nothing on your beauty."

I turned my head away so she wouldn't see the blush that I was sure was on my face. "Are you wearing a wig?" 

"Why yes. Yes I am," she said cheerfully. Uno opened the door for me. "Makes it easier instead of wearing a dress don't you think?"

"Well played Madame," I said, joining on the mood.

We reached the venue a little over seven in the evening. Uno knew exactly where to go, so I settled beside her comfortably while she drove. On our way, she remarked about how I was able to style the dress beautifully, and how great it was that I was pursuing my passion. Not a lot of people had the guts to do what they wanted in life, mainly because their parents were against it. When asked about her own parents, all she said was they were well. Uno gave me the impression that she didn't want to talk about them.

"We're near the place," she said. Uno handed me a black and silver masquerade ball mask. "They don't know who you are because they've never seen you before. If people asks, you are the daughter of a rich tycoon who is pledging thousands of dollars for the charity."

I made a mental note of her instructions. "What's going to be my name?"

"You can go by your real name except for the surname. They don't need to know that." She dabbed a grape colored lipstick on her lips while driving. "If anybody asks what the business is, tell them something about oil. Oh, and tell them I'm your fiance."

"Don't you have to be the one to tell them that?" I wore the mask. 

"I don't even like attending these types of events, much less actually conversing with the people," she said. "The only reason I'm doing this is because it's for charity." She handed the lipstick to me. "Put that in your purse. I like the flavor." Uno licked her lips.

"You're not supposed to eat it," I scolded.

"Too late."

I opened my purse and placed the lipstick inside. "Back to what you said earlier. So if you don't like events, what are you interested in aside from acting? Locking yourself in a room?"

"Of course not. I like things that make me feel alive. But being with socialites? Bzzzzt! No way. I'd rather study."

"You're a weirdo Uno."

She looked glumly at me. "I told you to call me Blaze. It's important that you call me Blaze, okay? Uno is separate from me."

"Is that your birth name? I just can't get used to it. Every single person I know uses Uno to describe you."

"Then don't. Anyway, here we are." Uno wore her mask, a white one that covered her face except her lips. "Do great on your acting. I'm counting on you, Manager." She drove to the venue's driveway and smiled quickly at me before departing the car. A valet was ready to help us. 

"Whose mansion is this?" I whispered. 

Uno handed our invitation to the people by the door. "Some rich suckers."

I tightened my grip on her arm. "That's not a nice thing to say." We smiled at every guests we encountered on the way in.

"People are not supposed to be good all the time Riri. We all have a dark side," she said, picking up on our conversation. She steered me to the left to avoid colliding with an older couple. "See those two?" she murmured next to my ear. "Tell me when they're getting near, so we can keep away from them." I did a double check. The couple she mentioned were wearing masquerade ball masks like everyone, but their salt and pepper hair was a giveaway to their age. They were speaking to a large group of guests.

"Why?" I said in an equally low voice. 

"Because I'm not in the mood for it," she said.

We continued up the red carpeted staircase. The hosts of the event did a marvelous job with the design. There were flower accents all over, including the windowsills and the side of the stairs. People were exchanging pleasantries below us. We managed not to bump into any of them on our way up. We wouldn't need an alibi after all.

Uno pushed my head down when the older couple turned in our direction. "What are you doing?" I complained. She was ruining my hair. 

"Just messing with you." She grinned. "Hey, want to see something really cool?" Without waiting for my answer, she took my hand and dragged me to a room. Uno glanced over her shoulder before we entered. 

"Are we allowed to be here?" I said when she shut the door behind us. "I don't want to get in trouble." She ignored my warnings and signaled for me to follow her. The room was basically empty, save for a bed that looked like it hasn't been slept on for years, a table, and a cabinet. I concluded that it was a guest room. Even so, it was way bigger than mine back home. Not the one in Uno's house. "Have you been here before?"

She parted the curtains, revealing a glass door. "There's a telescope in the balcony," she said. "I saw it outside as we were driving to the mansion. Let's check the stars." Uno lead the way. She peeped through the eyepiece of the telescope and made some adjustments. 

I went behind her. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Don't worry about me." She continued looking through the hole. "There," she said happily. "The view is better." Uno straightened. "Try it." She wasn't taking no for an answer. I shrugged and replaced her in front of the telescope. "You know what I like most about telescopes?" she asked. "You can only see one thing at a time. There's no confusion. Your eyes are focused. And when it is, it's easier to achieve your goals."

"And what goal is that? To be number one?"

"Anything less is a failure, and I don't like failures."

I glanced at her over my shoulder. "It's not a failure if you've tried."

She shook her head solemnly. "Not when there's two of you. It's only double the failure." 

My train of thought was stopped when I heard the door open. I stared with wide eyes at Uno and said, "I think we've been found." 

Uno glanced around for an escape route. The footsteps went louder as the people who entered walked to us. Finally, Uno raised her hands in the air, surrendering. "You got me," she said, as the two older couple she pointed to earlier came into view. 

"I knew it was you!" the woman said. She removed her mask, as did the male beside her. I was right with their age, but the way they carried themselves compensated for that. The man and woman weren't stooped over. Their faces weren't aged with wrinkles too, though they had evident laugh lines. "What did I say, Gerald?" She elbowed the man. "She'd visit us soon."

Uno rolled her eyes. "I didn't go here for both of you." She lowered her hands. "It's a charity event." The two crowded and hugged her fiercely. "Yeah, yeah, mom and dad," Uno said over their shoulders. "Hello to you too. Well played. Very well played."

They leaned away. "You haven't been home for years," her mom said. "No calls. No letters. "It's like you've forgotten about us."

"I was busy," Uno excused.

"Busy with what?" her father asked. The man had a deep, commanding voice that suited his imposing figure. "You haven't been married have you?"

Uno looked bewildered. "That's absurd!" She remembered that I was still there when her gaze landed on me. "Speaking of which, mom, dad, I want you to meet Riri. She's my new manager."

Uno's mom wrinkled her nose in displeasure. "Aren't you done with acting? You're old enough to handle our family business. What has Hollywood given you? If it's financial assistance you want, we are more than willing to contribute." Uno's jaw clenched. We haven't been together in the room for ten minutes, yet I could see the problem already. The parents discouraged her dream.

"We've been through this a hundred times," Uno said, not bothering to hide her irritation. "I'm giving you the same answer as before, no." She stormed out of the room before anyone could make sense of what was happening. 

Her mother turned to me. "If you really care for my daughter, you will convince her to quit Hollywood and go home," she said. 

I didn't see why. My own mom always supported me with fashion design. It was sad to find out that parents like these still existed, no matter how kind they seemed to be. "I don't want to be rude," I said. "And I don't know you well enough to say that it's in my place to ask. But why don't you support her?"

"We want her to stay where we can see her," Uno's father said. "She's a very sick girl."