Short Fiction by Odara Massey
Today is the day I meet Violet Holloway.
Violet Holloway is a girl I believe I will never forget. I have never met her in person, but she has an intangible magnetic hold on me. I want to be free. I want to be able to live my own life and focus on myself, but I feel her hands closing in around my neck, her slender fingers compressing my windpipe, and her burgundy nails clawing into my skin. She has me in a chokehold. She has everybody in a chokehold.
Before getting ready for an event, a teenage girl watches a makeup tutorial designed to emulate Violet’s beauty while cautiously painting eyeliner along the creases of her eyes. In the high school cafeteria, another girl browses the Internet on her phone and scrolls through flashy images and video clips of Violet, her radiant confidence evident in the way she flips her hair, the seductive gleam in her eyes, and the dramatic way she poses in front of the camera. Each image of Violet has thousands of likes and comments, all variations of – ‘Violet I love youuuu <33’ and ‘You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen’. In a dark, musty garage, a boy etches Violet’s emerald eyes onto his notebook as a way to warm up for his intensive studio art class.
I am no different from any of these people. Why wouldn’t I be? We are all generic teenagers who are on our way to becoming cogs in a machine, subservient to anyone who intimidates our psyche. We will graduate from high school, go to college, and land a soulless corporate job that’ll eat all of our time. The money we will toil away to earn will be put toward maintaining the livelihood of our boring spouse and insufferable children, and any cash we’d like to allocate for our pleasures will be stripped away by inflation and taxes. Our youth contains the last ounces of freedom in our lives, and we better enjoy it. But then there are people like Violet Holloway.
When I first heard about Violet, I regarded her as just a vapid product of nepotism who had been dealt a great hand and too much money to spend. But as she was granted more opportunities that caught the attention of the public eye, she grew in popularity amongst my entire generation. Even if you try to distract yourself from her existence, she will come back to you. When you’re sitting in a stall in a public bathroom, you will overhear an insecure girl whining about her looks because of her lack of resemblance to Violet, and then her friend will comfort her by saying—’No, you actually REALLYYY look like her’. When it’s your first day of Italian lessons and your peers are sharing the reasons they
decided to learn Italian, there will be at least one student who admits the reason they enrolled in the class was to become more like Violet, who is half Italian. You may ask, why are we obsessed with Violet? What is all the fuss about? Violet is an actress, but her good looks and family name is enough for people to overlook her ineptitude. When I ask my classmates why they’re fixated on Violet, the sole reason is always because ‘she is pretty and confident’. But there is a sea of fashionable women who are pretty and confident, but the attention they receive is nonexistent compared to Violet. So what is the reason for this mania behind her?
Let me give you some more information about Violet. Violet was fortunate enough to be the offspring of a film director and the CEO of one of the most successful real estate firms in the country. Her childhood was a blur of boarding schools, horseback riding, vacations to private islands in the Caribbean and second homes in Provence. Her teenage years were filled with parties at exclusive nightclubs, modeling deals with luxury brands, and rebellious acts that we admire her for committing, inciting the urge in us to sneak out and do drugs despite risking our health and our parents’ good graces. But it’s worth it, we say. If we misbehave, then one day there will be an article published that writes about our rebellion and the next generation of teenagers will admire us.
Now, Violet’s life is outrageous. She has dated the wealthiest, most attractive, and most talented in the country. She has reached absurd lengths in her career, and she is only 22. Her life sounds more like a meticulously curated
fantasy than a reality, and the dreams that I’ve been striving to achieve ever since I was a child were all snatched away from me by a girl who had the right connections.
I may sound like I am exaggerating, but listen to me.
Ever since I was a child, I have been obsessed with two things. One of them was acting, and the other was an obscure fantasy novel called Queen of Ash and Graves, deeply seeing myself in the character of Ruby. Back then, it was a book that barely anybody knew, yet it had entrenched itself deep into my heart. When I was nine and bored in the summer months, I would memorize Ruby’s lines and repeat them in front of the mirror to perfect my acting skills. Embodying Ruby on the screen has become one of my biggest aspirations, and I don’t think I would have won the prestigious National Young Actors Scholarship if I hadn’t made that my passion.
About a year ago, the movie adaptation for Queen of Ash and Graves was announced with an open casting call for Ruby. I worked the hardest I could for
months, spending my hard-earned money from my receptionist job on acting classes in order to hone my talent and increase my chances of securing the role. At one point, I was almost sure that I was going to be cast. I received a callback for my audition, and the casting director wouldn’t stop raving about how good I was. After all, it had been my mission to portray this character for countless years.
Violet, a bad actress, got the role.
I wasn’t disappointed—I was angry. And the fact that I had to witness everyone around me’s excitement to see her as Ruby on the big screen exacerbated it. When I told my peers about the unfair situation over lunch, they ganged up on me and chose to defend a girl they’d never met instead of one of their closest friends.
There is no reason to defend Violet. She never smiles. She looks sullen in all of her pictures, and the answers she gives in interviews are devoid of any thought. When asked about how she secured her role as Ruby, Violet responded in a blasé tone— “I don’t even like fantasy to be honest, but I just got offered the role so I was like, okay, fine I’ll take it”. She’s not a fun person, she has no kindness or charisma or any redeeming qualities to her, but everyone is too afraid to admit the truth. I can sense their resentful attitudes. I can hear the bubbles of envy boiling in their stomachs. I think all my peers are gaslighting me—even I am. I tell myself I’m happy for Violet’s success, because girls are supposed to support girls, right? But I am lying to myself. We are all afraid to speak our minds when we are driven by fear and subjugated by a greater power.
Months have passed since Violet’s victory over the role of Ruby, and I have efficiently managed to keep the thought of her out of my head. As theater practice begins to get more intense and finals season approaches at school, I haven’t really thought of her. But on a windy Friday afternoon, she came back into my life.
I was eating chicken tenders and a salad in my family’s lamplit dining room when my father broke the silence.
“Guess what?” My dad said between bites. “We received an invitation to the premiere of Queen of Ash and Graves.”
“Seriously?”
“Apparently, you were shortlisted for the role of Ruby,” he continued, “They thought you were so good that you deserved something in return, so they invited you to the premiere and the afterparty. Isn’t this exciting?”
I nearly jumped from my chair. “Of course it is!”
My mom caressed my shoulder. “Good job, Isabel,” she quietly flattered me. She had been championing me for the entire year and praying incessantly for my success. “We’re gonna have a great time.”
It didn’t feel real. I was going to attend the exclusive premiere of the film adaptation of my favorite book of all time. I was speechless. Violet had gotten the role, but I had also been given a rare opportunity. “I can’t believe this!”
My dad smiled at me. “I can see a bright future ahead of you, kiddo.” We continued our conversation, and I kept asking questions about the premiere. The movie would be screened at a glamorous movie theater downtown, and the afterparty would be hosted in the lobby of a luxury hotel that resembled a Parisian building. I imagined the experience would be a far cry from the mundanity of my suburban life, so I needed to prepare myself for what was to come.
Finally, the day arrived. Goosebumps swarmed up my arms and legs like trails of ants marching through a vine as I walked into the cold, cavernous theater full of black silhouettes. I took a deep breath before immersing myself in the movie. Since I had been waiting for the release of this adaptation for years, the movie left me feeling like it didn’t pay homage to the book and it was quite different from what I’d envisioned, though it was decent nonetheless. I couldn’t stand Violet. Every time her cold, skull-like beauty appropriated the screen, wearing Ruby’s pale blue cloak and her signature turquoise diadem, my stomach lurched. It lurched even more when the film ended and I saw her flaunting her light dress on the red carpet before two stern bodyguards hoisted her onto a limousine. I noticed she never said thank you, and she barely even acknowledged them. The more I gazed at her, the more I came to realize that this was a real young woman, not a personification of my insecurities.
At the afterparty, I spent my time gorging on delicacies and admiring the hotel’s architecture. The polished marble columns flanked by gargoyles; the blazing chandeliers; the bright linoleum floors; the billowing white curtains exposing a marvelous garden packed with rosebushes and wildflowers illuminated with fairy lights. For one gilded hour infused in a cloud of floral perfume, my mind slipped into a state of believing that this was how the rest of my life was going to feel like, but I snapped out of my reverie when a figure sat beside me on the pink lounge.
Looking to my right, I could not believe my eyes. Violet Holloway was sitting right next to me, her sleek blonde hair pinned up with a silver ribbon, the sequins of her gray tube dress scintillating under the chandelier light. Her
cheekbones, sharp and protuberant on her delicate features, looked even more striking in person than in photoshoots. The black eyeliner that rimmed her blue irises made her appear like a devious cat.
“Hello, she said with an air of nonchalance. She shifted her petite figure towards me, “You’re the girl who nearly got the role of Ruby, right? Izzy–something?”
Without a second thought, I replied. “Yeah, that’s me! My name’s Isabel. I’m such a big fan of your work.” I reached out my hand, and she shook it. She smiled. “I couldn’t help but admire your audition. You were so talented! They could’ve at least given you another role.”
I flashed a smile at her in return. “Still, I am so grateful to be here. This hotel is so beautiful! I can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up going to events like these.”
“Trust me, this isn’t how my life is always like. My life is actually pretty humdrum.”
Humdrum? How is being a young millionaire admired by the entire world who’s dated the most attractive guys of the decade humdrum? We talked more and more, and we ended up covering a wide range of topics. Violet wasn’t the mean girl I expected her to be. We bonded over how we both thought mushrooms were disgusting and over our similar taste in movies, and she gave me advice on how to strengthen friendships and relationships. Talking to her was strangely comforting. I felt like I was a simple mortal meeting a higher being in the universe, a wise old soul who had lived two lifetimes. She was a princess without a title. She was the big sister I never had. She was how I wanted the future version of me to be like, and it was as if my future self had come as an apparition to instruct me about life. She was kind and thoughtful, and now I understood why people genuinely loved her.
After a while, Violet decided to invite me up to her hotel suite. When I arrived, my eyes widened in awe of its beauty. She had a queen-sized bed with silk pink sheets, a chandelier, an antique clock, an aureate mirror, a wool carpet, and a bay window with a balcony and an extensive view of the city’s glistening lights.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” I murmured. I felt like an intruder. “You are so, so kind. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
Violet smiled, but the skin around her eyes didn’t crease. “Come on. You are such an angel.”
I jumped forward and gave Violet a hug, wrapping my arms around her waist. As Violet released me, she flashed me a grin again.
“This suite is so cool,” I giggled, dashing around the room like a mischievous ghost. “The closet!” I opened to a set of open doors leading to a room filled with a series of block-color gowns. “The view! I can’t wait to see the sunset. I love everything about this room. I wish I could stay here forever.” I plunged on the soft bed. “How is it like to be you?”
Violet’s eyes were fixed on the ground. Once again, she had returned to her signature sullen pout, and her hands were stiffly clasped behind her back. “You can lie down if you want. If you’re not too busy, we can talk more and go out. We can roam around the city. Go to the boardwalk, if you’d like,” she suggested, her bright pupils smoldering into mine.
“Roam around the city?” I beamed as I took in the softness of her plush pillows. I must be dreaming. But then I remembered my parents, who were lost in conversation with some people in the lobby the last time I saw them. My smile waned. “Wait. My parents. They’re probably worried about me by now.”
Violet scoffed. “Why would they be worried about you? When I was your age, I’d sneak out every night and no one cared!”
I hesitated, glancing around the room. Then I exhaled. “You know what, forget them. I’d rather be with you, anyways.”
Violet looked up at the sky. When she looked back at me, her sullen pout had morphed into a smirk. She ambled away from me and walked to her nightstand where she picked up a silver box. “Macarons,” she said, placing the box in my hands. “Strawberry, lavender, vanilla. From one of the best French bistros in the country. We can eat some of them together before going out.”
I took a deep breath and nodded before opening the box and inhaling their sugary scent. “I never eat sweets like these,” I said, “What is it like to have your life? I can’t believe you get to do all of this.
Violet folded her arms over her chest. “Once again, I’m not perfect. I’ve got my problems.”
“What kinds of problems?” I asked in a joking tone as my gaze wandered to the frescoed ceiling.
Violet laughed. “Oh. Stalkers, paparazzi, having to take way too many stimulants for my own good in order to stay awake on set. But right now, both of us have nothing to worry about. We’re gonna have fun!”
THWARP.
There was a pounding noise on the opposite side of the door. It sounded like someone had knocked, but it was so loud that it shook my eardrums. “You should probably get that.” I said after a pause.
“I think it’s construction in the apartments next to us.” Violet said. Again. THWARP. I realized the pounding came from the direction of the closet door. The sound did resemble a knock, but whoever was making it had a massive fist.
Suddenly, the pounding continued and it nearly rattled me off my feet. “That’s not construction!” I exclaimed, covering my ears in a desperate attempt to make it stop.
“Oh no, It’s sunset.” Violet mumbled.
The closet door broke down, and I screamed.
Right before my eyes was a horrific creature with a male torso and antlers protruding from its cervid head. Its bare flesh was crimson-red and its long nails were digging into a scepter, but my eyes were fixed on the several rows of teeth it exposed while it screamed.
“What the hell is that?!” I cried. My heart pounded against my chest. “Someone wake me up from this nightmare!”
Violet winced. A monstrous creature had just stepped into the room and her reaction was still blase. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry, I can explain—” The creature’s shrill yell and the snapping of its fingers interrupted her statement. She beckoned the creature towards me. “Come here, Gorgamath.”
I was already sobbing, tears cascading down my cheeks as my jaw rattled in fear. This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening.
Its meaty fingers closed around my neck and choked all of the air out of me until I couldn’t scream and was too petrified to move. Blood erupted from its throat and ejected all over my chin and neck, trails gushing down where the creature was strangling me.
“This is the price I have to pay to live my life. Every day at six, 365 people a year,” Violet stated, swallowing a lump in her throat.
Suddenly, the main door slammed open, and a woman in her forties who was a dead ringer for Violet strutted in while completely ignoring the situation at hand—as if neither the creature nor I were present. I quickly recognized her as Ann Holloway, the famous real estate mogul who took the country by storm.
“Can I not give her up, this one time?” Violet protested. “Why her?! She deserves none of this!”
“Our family made a pact with a spirit a long time ago. This is the one condition we have to accept in order to maintain our lifestyle.” Ann tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Some people are meant to prosper, and others are meant to be crushed. That is how our world operates.”
“But they’re so innocent! They come to us thinking that we live the best lives and—”
“They see the persona we put on towards the public. Simple people can never look beyond the surface, darling. If they are stupid enough to believe it, then it’s perfectly fine to sell them to the lambs.” Ann turned and simpered at me, the corners of her lips curling upwards towards the point where they almost reach her eyes.
I find myself not being able to breath anymore, and it’s only a matter of time until the final traces of oxygen escape my lungs. I wish I’d never chosen to come up here. I wish I had been responsible enough to not escape my parents’ company downstairs. But I’m obsessed with Violet Holloway, and the power that she holds over the world will never be quelled as long as her family keeps satiating the desires of a demon.
“You have to catch a flight to New York tomorrow. Better get ready for bed,” Ann instructed.
“Why is this my life?” Violet grumbled. “You made this decision. You ruined me. I see people get devoured every single day and I have to pretend I’m the happiest girl in the world.”
Ann was already heading towards the exit, placing her hand on the door. “I said they deserve to go away.”
“But where do they go after they die?” Violet asked. “Do they float to heaven? I’m sure they’ll be happy. Eventually, they’ll reunite with their families, they—”
“You know what they see when they die?” Ann said. “Darkness, Violet.” And with that, Ann left the room and carefully shut the door.
