Round N Around We Go (Has Cupid Gone Mad?)

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Belinda Elkaim
Miami, Florida
1-786-440-8189

The silky red robe drapes her
luscious body and embraces the
contours of her perfectly toned
body. The belt is untied and
dangles
loosely through
the
loops on both sides. Hanging
slightly opened in the front,
the luxurious fabric sways as
she moves and reveals the
cleavage of her full and
voluptuous breasts.

Humming a tune in her mind, she
gracefully raises both arms
above her head and begins to
dance as if she were a belly
dancer except noticeably, she
tries to choreograph ballet
steps into the routine. She
spins around on tip toes and the
fabric of the robe dances in air
to compete with the elegance of
her mesmerizing motion.

She swirls into the bathroom and
smiles at her reflection in the
oversize mirror. Indiscreetly
she admires the results of her
religious workout routines. Her
body is in the finest shape and
is flawlessly toned from head to
toe, ready for a new Broadway
season which commences in a few
months.

As if exempted from natural
aging, she is blessed with a
youthful appearance that makes
her look at least twelve years
younger than her chronological
age of thirty six. Her stylishly
layered brunette
hair curls
inward and drapes the contours
of her near perfect
facial
features. Rather impossible to
ignore her greenish blue eyes
that run deeper than the
mysterious
waters
of
the
Atlantis, and once gazed upon,
addiction to her presence is
almost instant.

She leans closer to the mirror,
inspects her nearly unblemished
skin and gasps audibly as she
realizes that a visit to her
dermatologist is overdue. The
photo shoot of a new poster for
her
Broadway
musical
is
scheduled in two weeks and she
must look impeccably radiant.
Amber Winters is born a Broadway
star, her comeback performance
is a major success and her fans
are finding
every reason to
forgive her premature retirement
at the peak of her career some
twelve years ago. Besides the
inarguable talent that she
possesses, Amber’s strengths are
her
lovable
charisma
and
compelling
stage
presence,
weapons that she is fully aware
of and utilizes to the fullest
extent.

Pulling back the layers of her
long brunette hair, she twirls
it a round a few times and clips
it on top of her head. Ever so
sensually she removes the red
robe and lets it slip onto the
round Persian rug in the center
of the marbled bathroom floor.

She closes the drain of the art
deco bath basin made out of hand
painted enameled cast iron and
fills it with warm water. While
waiting for the basin to fill,
she turns around and studies the
reflection of her naked body in
the full length mirror at the
corner of the bathroom.
She angles her curvaceous yet
slender body from side to side
and tries to find traces of
imperfection that does not
exist. Apparently her personal
trainer and nutritionist have
ensured that she will have zero
grounds for complaints.

Stepping into the basin she lets
out a soft moan of pleasure and
eagerly immerses her body in a
therapeutic soak after a two
hours workout routine. Just as
she submerges herself into the
serenity of the moment, her
attention is interrupted by an
oddly unfamiliar and ghastly
smell of something burning in
her penthouse condominium.

Concerned by the odor which is
coming through the ventilation
system, she quickly steps out of
the tub, dripping wet she wraps
herself in a bathrobe and dashes
out to search for the source of
the burning smell.

“Neyo? Something is burning,
where are you?” she searches for
her lover in the living room but
he is nowhere in sight. She
scans across the room and
prances down the hallway towards
the powder room. The door is
locked and she could smell
something burning from behind
the door. “Neyo?” she pounds on
the door, “What is that smell?
Open the door now!”

Slyly he shouts from behind the
door. “Just a minute!” Neyo, the
lead cast of Amber’s musical,
opens the door and steps out of
the smoke filled powder room.
Half naked with his designer
jeans unbuttoned, his milk
chocolate colored skin gleams
under the spotlight of the
corridor. Preoccupied by the
sight of his impeccably built
body, she frowns and stares into
his
light hazel eyes now
disturbingly bloodshot.

Instantaneously she
recognizes
the smell of burnt marijuana and
demands an explanation from her
obviously stoned lover.

“Are you insane? Did you bring
weed into my place?” she
tightens the belt of her
bathroom and pushes him aside to
inspect the powder room.

“Relax baby doll, it’s just a
joint. You should try some, it’s
good for you.” He blocks her
path, takes her by the shoulders
and removes her from the powder
room then closes the door behind
them.

Neyo grabs Amber by the waist
and backs her away from the
powder room while kissing her
neck. “You’re way too tense, let
me relax you.” He whispers into
her ear and sweeps her off her
feet. Carrying her to the sofa
of the living room, he kisses
her passionately and tries to
make her forgive the odor that
quickly fills her condo.

Amber manages to mumble while he
reaches under her bathrobe to
caress her breasts. “I don’t
care what you do outside, but
don’t you dare bring that stuff
into my place again, you got
that?”

Utterly
stoned, Neyo isn’t
really sure about what Amber is
trying to tell him. In fact, he
isn’t even paying attention to
her words. All he knows is that
his primal desire for her is
becoming
uncontrollable.
He
needs her.

Despite the twelve months of
undeniable pleasure that they
have shared, Amber regrets to
have accepted Neyo’s proposal of
an ‘unattached relationship.’

She regrets to have taken
lightly the words of her
producer and best friend Conrad,
who has warned her to be
vigilant
and
not
to
be
implicated with someone from an
entirely
different
social
stature, especially not with the
lead cast of her own musical.

Acutely late to pull away, she
is addicted to him and craves
the pleasure that seemingly only
he knows how to ignite. Her
intuition has warned her over
many occasions that he means
nothing but trouble and that she
should refrain from seeing him.
She knows that she should follow
her instinct but her body defies
the reasoning.

Captivated and disinclined to
quit, she needs his touch and he
is well aware of it. Taking full
advantage of her weakness, he
finds it thrilling to manipulate
her as he remains irresistible
to her in each and every way.

An hour has passed when Neyo
climbs off the sofa. Drops of
sweat drip carelessly down his
back as he smiles at the sight
of his conquest. Amber rests
soundlessly and contently on the
sofa with her eyes closed.
Pulling up his designer jeans,
Neyo zips up and walks over to
the kitchen, removes a small
medicine bottle from the back
pocket and swallows two pills
with a gulp of Pelligrino.

Peeking from across the room,
she admires his body and asks
curiously, “what’s that for?”

Neyo seems surprised that Amber
is watching him,
tucks the
bottle back into the pocket of
his jeans, turns around and
forges a guilty smile as if he
is hiding something. “Nothing,”
he assures her and avoids
suspicion; “it’s medication for
my ulcer.”

Cruising at 65mph along 195
heading west, Karina Sebastian,
former model turned artist,
exits north and heads home to
the Art Lofts in midtown Miami.

Speeding along with the windows
of her brand new Audi rolled
down, her wild mane of long
blond hair dances with the wind.
She sweeps her fingers through
the untamed locks and tugs them
behind her ears, then dons her
large rimmed sunglasses to
protect her gorgeous blue eyes
from the piercing wind.

She reads the clock on the
dashboard and it is only six
thirty p.m. “Still ample time
before sunset.” She thinks to
herself and decides to drive
around the Art & Design District
to check out the world renowned
street art.

It has been nearly two weeks
since her relocation to midtown,
boxes are still unpacked but she
is eager to learn more about her
new neighborhood and is anxious
to start working full time at
Theodore’s art gallery in South
Beach.

Having suffered a heartbreak,
miscarriage, anemia and severe
insomnia,
she
is
finally
beginning to recover physically.
With the help of her entrusted
therapist, she is starting to
feel relieved from the emotional
distraught triggered
by
the
death of her belated boyfriend
Alex. She will never forget the
day when she was given the urn
containing his ashes and will
forever remember the greatness
of the love that they had
shared.

His struggle with leukemia was
only disclosed to her during the
very last stage when hospice
care was refused. The last
memories that she has of him was
how he deteriorated and refused
to let her stand by his side.
She wasn’t allowed to see the
last of him and
misses him
immensely.

It has been nearly a year since
his death and she feels that a
change of scenery might help her
recover from depression. A new
home and a fresh start in
midtown Miami might be the
perfect antidote for the agony
that only she knows exists.

Music is blasting
from the
stereo of her car. Tired of R&B,
she presses the buttons of the
radio and switches from station
to station and searches for up
tempo electronic dance music.

Her focus is whisked off the
road for just a split moment but
long enough for her to miss a
turn. The detour leads her to a
shady looking neighborhood off
the main streets of the Art
District. She realizes that she
is lost within the side streets
off NE 28
^th
and NW 2
^nd
Avenue and
shrugs.
“Darn.” she whispers
loudly and looks around, “Where
am I?”

Just five blocks away from her
art loft, the artistic hype of
midtown turns ghetto. Frankly
scared, she knows that this is a
rather dangerous area and she
definitely should not be there.
Desperate to find her way back
to civilization on Biscayne
Boulevard, she makes another
wrong turn and begins to panic.

Karina looks around, rolls up
the windows and locks the doors
of her car. Without seeing this
sharp statue like object on the
road ahead, she drives right
over it and the jagged edges of
the statue
pierce
straight
through the front tire on the
left. She feels the car tilt to
the side and pulls slowly to a
stop. She lowers the volume of
the music and steps out of the
car to inspect the damage.

Staring at the punctured tire,
she covers one eye with her hand
and curses silently. “Shit,” she
says out loud, “now what?”
Feeling uncomfortable in a
precarious
neighborhood,
she
swiftly climbs back into her car
and locks the doors. While
dialing the number of her best
friend Taylor, she notices that
her phone is almost out of
battery. Taylor is not answering
the phone. “Pick up Taylor, pick
up the phone!” she mumbles to
herself. After the forth try,
she gives up and tries to call
her other best friend Amber for
help.
Amber’s
phone
goes
straight to voicemail. “Great!”
Karina shuts her eyes and tries
to think.

She has never changed a tire
before but realizing that it’s
almost sundown, she is willing
to try anything to get out of
this eerie looking neighborhood.

She taps on the YouTube icon of
her cell phone and searches for
a video tutorial on how to
change a tire. Halfway through
the video and seeing the sky
turning darker, she decides to
bring out the spare tire and
attempts to change it herself.
“Can’t be that difficult!” she
mumbles
and with all her
strength, she drags out the
spare tire and a tool box from
the trunk. “My God this is
heavy!” she mumbles.

Forty five minutes later, tools
are scattered across the ground,
freshly manicured nails are
ruined and her hands are covered
in grime. By the time she
successfully
removes
the
punctured tire, the sky has
turned dark and the street is
only dimly lit. She tries her
impossible to fit the spare tire
into the link; to no avail she
begins to panic. “Dimmit!” she
kicks the spare tire and wipes
her hand with a washcloth.