Chapter Three: Fractured Focus
706 Words
The drive to the neighboring city felt endless. Jordan stared out the passenger window, the highway blurring past in streaks of gray and green. Rio’s empty leash still dangled from the rearview mirror—Elena had tied it there “so you remember why we fight.” Jordan hadn’t taken it down.
Elena glanced over. “You’re quiet.”
Jordan didn’t answer. She kept seeing Rio’s small body on the asphalt, the way his chest had stopped rising, the blood soaking her shirt. Every time she blinked, the memory replayed.
They arrived at the studio just before noon. The brand audition was for a luxury teen fragrance line—high-fashion, high-pressure. Jordan had done shoots like this before, but today her hands felt heavy, her thoughts slow.
The director—a tall woman with sharp cheekbones and sharper words—called Jordan to the mark.
“Chin up, eyes to camera three. Soft smile, then turn slow—show the neckline of the dress. Ready?”
Jordan nodded. The lights were too bright. The music looped softly in the background.
“Action.”
She lifted her chin. Tried to smile. But her mind flashed to Rio whimpering, to Leo’s smirk as the SUV sped away.
She turned too fast. The dress caught on her heel. She stumbled—small, but enough.
“Cut!” The director pinched the bridge of her nose. “Azul… get a grip of yourself. You’re disturbing the cameramen.”
Jordan froze. The crew exchanged glances.
Elena stepped forward from the sidelines, voice low, calm. She leaned in to whisper something to the director. The woman listened, eyes flicking to Jordan, then back to Elena. A slow nod.
“Alright, Ms. Azul—Jordan.” The director’s tone softened just enough. “Your mom wants to speak with you.”
Jordan walked off set, eyes already stinging. Elena opened her arms.
“Come here, my baby.”
Jordan collapsed into the hug, face buried in her mother’s shoulder. Tears spilled hot and fast.
“Mummy… I miss Rio.”
Elena stroked her hair. “I know, I know. I’ll get you a new dog, sweetheart. A better one.”
Jordan shook her head against her mother’s blazer. “It won’t be the same. It won’t even make a difference.”
Elena pulled back slightly, cradling Jordan’s face in both hands. Thumbs brushed away tears.
“Hey… hey. Look at me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know it hurts. And it’s alright to hurt. But the next revenge we do on Leo? That will make a difference. I promise.”
Jordan’s breath hitched. “Promise?”
Elena smiled—slow, sharp, loving in the cruelest way.
“Anything for my baby.”
She hugged her again, tight. Jordan clung back, letting the scent of her mother’s perfume drown out the memory of blood for just a moment.
Elena pulled away first. “Okay, sweetie. Go get your makeup fixed. You ruined it.”
Jordan nodded, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, and walked toward the dressing room. Her fashionist was already waiting—powder, concealer, fresh eyeliner.
When she returned to set, the tears were gone. Her shoulders were back. Her chin lifted.
The director raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”
Jordan smiled—small, determined, dangerous.
“Ready.”
“Action.”
This time she didn’t stumble. She turned exactly on cue, eyes locked on camera, neck arched just right. The dress caught the light perfectly. The smile looked effortless.
Elena watched from the side, arms crossed, a quiet smile curving her lips.
“That’s my girl.”
The audition wrapped after two more takes. Break was called.
Jordan slipped into the bathroom alone. She stood in front of the mirror, hands braced on the sink. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
She stared at her reflection—makeup flawless again, eyes still red-rimmed underneath.
She leaned closer.
“You did this to me, Virell,” she whispered.
Her voice cracked—just once.
“Soon… it’s gonna be my turn.”
She straightened.
The door clicked shut behind her as she walked out.
But the words stayed in the mirror, echoing in the empty room.
- Writer
