SWEET CHAOS

The morning sun beat down on the surface of my patio pool with an aggressiveness that only money could alleviate, but the crystal-clear water wasn't the only thing shining under that cloudless sky. "I am Alex Miller, and I am 19 years old." I was walking through the Italian-designed house, eyes closed, meditating. “Why am I so perfect?” I enjoyed the silence... or at least the pathetic attempt at silence that reigned in the garden. I didn’t need to see to know I wasn’t alone. I could hear the attempts at nervous whispers and the soft, almost feline steps of the maids who were supposed to be pruning the roses or cleaning the house windows. —Look at him... he looks like a god, I wish he’d just look at me—one of them whispered, her voice a mix of fear and fascination. —They say he’s never looked at any woman twice. Can you imagine being the one to make him lose control? Just one look from those cold eyes and I think I’d even forget my own name —the other replied, her breath hitching, clearly affected by the sight of my bare torso, glowing with sunscreen. I felt a shadow looming over me. Then, the "accidental" brush of a warm and slightly trembling hand on my leg. It was a bold touch, a caress seeking a reaction, as she placed a silver tray with freshly squeezed orange juice next to my hand. I didn’t open my eyes. I stayed motionless, letting the tension grow until the air itself felt heavy. I knew they were provoking me, waiting for a gesture, an insult, or, in the best-case scenario for them, an invitation. —The juice is going to get warm, Elena —I let out with a voice so perfect and deep it seemed to freeze the pool water. I didn’t move a single muscle and only looked into her eyes—. Don’t worry… I like it warm… but I like it more when a beauty serves me. The girl let out a gasp of pure surprise and nervousness. I heard her trip over her own feet as she hurried away, her face surely burning like a tomato. It’s funny, almost poetic, how people believe desire is an unavoidable human weakness, when for me, it’s simply the easiest leash to use to walk them like lapdogs. I sat up slowly, feeling the drops of sweat and water slide down my toned abs, tracing lines that the maids in the background followed with their eyes as if they were witnessing a miracle. I stood up and walked toward the large hand-woven hammock hanging between two imported palm trees. I lay back in it with a natural grace, letting the swaying relax me. —Why am I so perfect… ish. I stayed lying back for a few seconds until I heard a voice. —EXCUSE ME… could you help me with some boxes on the balcony? I looked at her; she was a pretty, slender, and clumsy maid. I began to inspect her from head to toe, knowing what she really wanted. —Sure, no problem, I’d love to—I said with a voice full of desire until I heard... —You’re still as charming as ever, Alex. Sometimes I wonder if you actually have blood in your veins or just high-purity ice. That voice was different. It had authority, class, and a hint of mockery that only one person in this world dared to use with me. I looked at her: it was my mother. She was impeccable, draped in a designer suit that cost more than the annual salary of the mansion's entire staff. She sat on the edge of my previous lounger with a victorious smile etched on her lips. —MOTHER—I said with an impeccable voice, watching the maid walk away in shame. I knelt, raising a hand, saying in my own mind: “NOOOO… come back… come back!” I knew I had wasted an opportunity as impeccable as myself, until I looked at her with a touch of bitterness. —What do you want now, Mom? —I asked, still kneeling, lamenting my actions—. If it’s about the company board, I already told you my seat will stay empty until I’m older. I’m not interested in playing business with old men who smell like mothballs. —It’s not the company, darling. It’s something much more... stimulating —she tossed a cream-colored envelope with gold seals directly onto my abdomen. The weight of the paper was considerable—. I’ve enrolled you in Silverwood University Institute. You start tomorrow, first thing in the morning. —University? —I stood up and sat abruptly in the hammock, making it shake violently. Zeus, my black cat with yellow eyes, leaped from a nearby bush onto my shoulder, digging his claws in with a familiarity only I allowed—. I thought we were past the stage of wasting time with hormonal teenagers and professors who barely earn enough for their coffee. —Silverwood isn’t high school, Alex. It’s the ecosystem where the predators of tomorrow live. It’s the cradle of the richest and most powerful families in the country. You need contacts... or perhaps, you just need a bigger chessboard so you’ll stop being bored and tormenting the employees with your little games. —I DON’T TORMENT THEM… I just play along—I said, my voice cracking slightly. —Ehh… —I covered my mouth and noted in a planner: “Improve my perfect voice and 50 penalty sit-ups.” —Anyway, let’s get back to the conversation. I got up from the hammock and walked toward the massive glass window that reflected my figure like a perfect mirror. I observed myself for a second: the perfectly messy hair, the firm jawline, and that gaze that always seemed to be analyzing how to destroy whoever was in front of me. One of the new maids, passing by with some towels, froze when she saw me head-on. Her eyes went down my chest and, literally, her legs trembled so much she had to hold onto a column to keep from collapsing right there. —Fine —I murmured, seeing my own reflection and my mother behind me—. If they want me to play the model student, I’ll do it. But don’t let them complain when I’m the one dictating the rules and breaking their precious toys. —That’s my son —she said, standing up and giving me a kiss on the cheek that felt like the seal of a contract—. Don’t break them all on the first day, Alex. Leave something for the rest of the year. And above all—she whispered— “Never fall in love with anyone.” —I can’t promise that… but tomorrow, Silverwood Institute would meet the real Alex. Those grades, those friends, those girlfriends and lovers will be as perfect as ME. I raised my hands while the maids fainted from my perfectionism; I was going to conquer. And in this game, I never play to lose. —Anyway, get inside the house, it’s going to start raining—my mother said with a commanding voice. —Oh no, my perfect hair is intolerant to rain!—I covered my hair while I went running into the house.