Cerise and Sal

The move to Faradiso was a headache. Everything else other than the garden that greeted Cerise on the town’s barriers was a headache. The sounds of the engine and the obnoxiously bright buildings and light that seeped through the tinted windows of the van had her groaning in her seat, constantly flailing her arms and accidentally hitting her best friend, Sal with her pillow.

“Don’t even try sleeping anymore, we’ve got a lot to visit.” In utmost concern, she throws the pillow harshly to the side of her head, moving away to the back seats so Cerise couldn’t get her back. Sal was most excited for this, eager to live in a place that values nature unlike their previous home rattled in skyscrapers and noisy streets. This place wasn’t that much different in terms of the structures but Sal sets the thought aside as she writes down more places on her checklist, now landing on Cerise’s lap.

As soon as her eyes reach the paper she begins to feel her inner self give out, sliding down dramatically on an imaginary wall. “Can’t we just rest for one day? We aren’t tourists!” Cerise whines, crumpling the piece of paper with about 10 destinations written on it giving herself a horrified gasp from Sal before she takes it away, a string of curses falling from her lips as she straightens it out on the glass.

“We’ve arrived”

The door opens, the driver gladly opening it for Cerise and her luggage, A small ‘thank you’ about to spill from her mouth before Cerise hears her best friend shouting from inside the van. The door was apparently slammed shut before she got out. Cerise fumes, facing the driver with an angry look while he only reciprocates an oblivious one. “Can you please open the door the hollow can’t get out.” Cerise states, placing her hands on the handle to do it herself but she only struggled, her gaze trailing from the man’s hand up to his face. He was holding it closed, a disbelieving look partnered his stare.

‘Another headache’. Cerise counts. This man was a stubborn swan, keen enough to prove what he wanted to as he raises a brow. “you’re either one of those crazy journalists or you’re crazy itself. Tell me, where is the hollow?

Faradiso was a very well-known place in the country. Reasons being named the town of blossoms. There wasn’t an area here that doesn’t have flowers all over the place. Another for its entertainment industry, many famous acts found and reside in this town including the international models Tiffany Love and Fleur Jean, but that wasn’t the point right now. This place is an icon for its people, a population of five hundred thousand and only a few percentages of aurums in it.

Conclusion? Majority of swans in Faradiso don’t believe in hollows, and this driver was one of them.

“Do you want your payment or no?” Despite being the gentle coward she was, confidence will always be in her senses if it’s for her friend. No one has the right to treat her as if she doesn’t exist. There was even a time before her graduation that she cried because they wouldn’t allow her to attend, she bugged the organizers the whole day and it worked somehow.

Cerise’s threat seemed to have pierced through the man’s ego, dropping the cocky act, and pulling the doors open for her best friend. Cerise hears Sal muffle a quick thanks, the wheels of her luggage colliding with the steel of the van giving it a scratch.

The driver coughs to gain her attention, raising his brow once again as he waits for his payment.

Unlike the modern way of paying through the phone, Cerise spits out “Sal, can you give this kind swan his cash?” The man’s face morphs from scandalized before turning into fear as a wad of money is thrown directly at his chest, none of it coming from Cerise’s unmoving limbs but from the girl beside her.

After a minute of no response, Cerise thinks that she might’ve broken the poor man. Sal pulls at the red thread on her pinky, tugging Cerise along to walk through the park.

The red thread was for safety purposes, so Cerise wouldn’t lose Sal. Speaking of swans, Cerise was one herself but a tiny bit special, she can hear hollows but she can’t see them.

Sal was like a guardian angel if seen from another perspective, a voice nagging from either behind, beside or in front of her at all times of the day. She’d only ever seen her through her phone, the reason why her storage is always full as multiple selfies and videos of Cerise and her best friend fill it.

The only real contact ever shared was the thread, one end tied to Cerise’s pinky and the other end tied to hers. A sad but the only reality Cerise and Sal’s relationship could ever be. Shaken away from her thoughts, Cerise asks her friend to repeat whatever she was even telling her. “We’re at Luce park. The flat should be around this area.” She huffs, voice small and somewhat tired from all the navigating.

“Let’s stop by a coffee shop” suggest, earning a grunt from her as Cerise paced towards the eye-catching shop at the other side of the garden before she could even agree. The Park was relatively empty, only a few swans here and there and Sal takes the chance to (illegally) pluck a good five of middlemist reds along the way.

“Good morning” The bells of the shop jingle as Cerise opens it, a warm welcome given by the woman at the register. Both Cerise and Sal move to a booth by the wall covered in paintings of castles, a childish tint to the retro-styled cafe.

Cerise asks her best friend for her drink as she finishes skimming through the menu under the glass of the table, chanting her orders in her mind as to not forget it. The cashier only made the place even better, her gummy smile bouncing off the sharp eyes yet calm features as she took Cerise’s order. ‘Jenny’ her name plate read, a name Cerise would surely remember as she includes a nectar dessert to which she gives her a questioning look. “It’s for the firefly.” Jenny whispered.

Cerise’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as she glances back to where her best friend is seated, a red thread floating on the table. “How much?

“It’s on the house” the cashier replies in an instant, arms crossed as a sign to reject Cerise’s payment. Cerise’s face flushes in deep pink, insisting that she take the money but she only shoo-s her back to their booth with a strange grin. The moment Cerise’s bottom makes contact with the seat, Cerise hears Sal roar in happiness, the nectar dessert disappearing as soon as she touches it. “Thank you so much~”

“It’s from the owner.” Cerise lisped before chugging the matcha tea down, an exhale of satisfaction as she finishes it halfway. Cerise’s best friend mutters something along the lines of ‘sweet’ and ‘aurum’, but that thought slid to the back of her head, preoccupied with how things are going forward from now on.

Overall the place wasn’t bad, with only a few asshole swans and aurums outside, a clear balance to the haven-like town. Back in Omelaisse, Cerise never would have thought to sit down in a coffee shop, with calm winds surrounding the atmosphere. It was hell-coaster back there, something straight out of an overly-dramaticised action film in a busy city unlike now where everything felt like a dive through a child’s imagination.