Cinderella, The Return of Genevieve (3 page)

Humans laughed a lot more than vampires, they seemed to enjoy life a little more. They had more advantage anyway, being able to walk under the sun. If they truly believed in vampires, every den, every house where vampires slept w
ould be torched. A group of girls were huddled together, giggling together, staring at a group of boys who exchanged glances with them from a distance, none of the boys made an effort to approach the giggling girls—probably because they were a group of vampires and could not come in direct contact with them. (Young vampires were bombs waiting to be set off. Until they matured, they had their own set of special rules.) She walked past them, and she peeked at the group of vampires from under her hair. They all in unison eyed her and nodded as she continued on. It was her way of saying, “I see what’s going on, if the girls come up missing, you will be punished.”

Cinderella found herself at the 42
nd
street station and descended into the station, she stood at the Broadway platform, near the edge at the furthest wall and once the train entered the station and left, she slipped down to the tracks with a few other vampires while the living ones were occupied with entering the train.

A Christmas tree stood at the entrance of the market
. This night market was her favorite. There weren’t only vendor stands, there were actual stores built inside the walls, there were more cafés and restaurants. Her first stop was a music shop. There was a small crowd of young looking vampires huddled at a few of the stations. Their jeans practically falling off their waist, and their shirts barely reaching their waist. Wallets bulging from back pockets, with long copper chains ornamentally dangling from their pants. The clerk sat behind a counter with his feet propped up on the counter, flipping through a magazine. “We got some new stuff in. Mostly rap, check it out.” He said all this without looking at Cinderella.

She
stopped at the only available computer station and began touching the screen, flipping through the music not really knowing what she was looking for, but she knew she needed some new music. Maybe electronic? Genre, Electronic, Click! The headphones fit snuggly on her head. The volume was already pretty high. Her head moved up and down to the fast pumping sound of the music. Add to cart. Click!

Fishing for more music. Genre. Pop. Click! Ewww…sounds like pink bubble gum. Hmm…Rap? You’re joking right?

“What are you looking for?” Cinderella reached for the headphones being removed from her head. She knew that voice, it was hard to forget. The prince. She froze and could already hear the smile in his voice, he was the type that didn’t need a reason to smile, probably smiled when he was angry. It was part of his charm, wasn’t that how political figures had to be? She felt his hand around hers, “must be hard getting all that paint from under such small nails. Were you painting before you came?”

S
ituating her hair, Cinderella peeked up at him, careful not to reveal her face. Snatching her hand away as gently as she could, letting her head hang a little lower. “Yes.” She said softly.

“Cinderella right?”
Why was he acting dumb? “What were you painting?” Patrick bent his head, trying to see past her hair.

“I was finishing a portrait.
”

“
Of who?” Patrick’s body was nearly cloaking hers as he stretched his body around to see her face. “Why won’t you show me your face? Why are you hiding behind your hair? What are you hiding back there?”

Cinderella turned away from him.
“I think I should go.” This was her first night out on her own. She didn’t want to ruin things so soon.

“
I’m sorry. I won’t impose. Maybe you’re shy. I’m just a very curious creature… Let me help you shop for music. What were you listening to?”

Peeking through her hair,
“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’re busy.” Victor stood behind Patrick with his chest out and arms behind his back. His face was a solid wall, with lips that didn’t seem to ever curve.

He slipped on the headphones,
“Let’s see what you were listening to? Ahh…electronic?” Peering at her from the corner of his eye. “We have similar taste.” Bobbing his head and shuffling his feet a little. “You listen to it while you paint, don’t you?” Patrick was removing the headphones.

Cinderella took a deep breath and cringed at the thought of being caught speaking with the prince. But she knew he wouldn’t let her go easily. It was obvious he would
get his way. She needed to secure her innocence her safety. It would be the Sun Room for her, if Mother caught her.

“Prince Patrick?” Cinderella began.

“Patrick, call me Patrick, please.” Smile.

“Patrick, I have a favor to ask you.
Ummm…” she needed to choose her words very carefully. “Please, I’ll let you help me if you keep our encounter to yourself. Please, don’t let Liza and Mother find out.” Rolling her hands anxiously into one another.

“Why? Will you be punished for speaking to me? Is Mother Minerva so cruel?”

Cinderella shook her head, looking up at him for a moment, quickly her head fell again once she realized her face may have been revealed. Combing her fingers through her hair, “no, it’s just that I…I’m supposed to be home working, but I was able to sneak out.”

He had the tension span of a dog,
“I do believe I’ve witnessed some beauty behind that hair.” Patrick’s eyes grew as his curiosity was struck again. He raised his hand, guiding his hand to raise her hair. Cinderella covered her face with her hands and she nodded.

“
I’m ugly! Totally gross! You will not like what you see. Please.”

“Alright, alright. I give up
,
today
. But you’re only making me more curious. Let’s see here.” He turned away from her and flipped through the music choices.

Slowly letting her hands fall from her face. “Thank you.” Gulping down dryness.

“Do you know anything about Mozart?” Cinderella was silent. She had no intention of becoming too friendly with the Prince, she didn’t want to jeopardize the small life that she was gaining. “It’s okay, Cinderella. You can trust me. I promise I will not tell Mother
or
Liza. Please feel free to talk freely, I insist.”

“Why do you want to talk to me? I’m just a maid.”

“A maid that paints.” He smiled and began moving his hands as if he were pulling something out of his body. “I am very passionate about the arts, so I’m always curious at how the mind of artist work. I’ve never been able to paint or do anything creative except observe it. Art is very expressive and emotional, and I want to connect with it and feel what the artist have felt. Do you understand?”

“
It’s like listening to a love song and wanting to understand for yourself what it’s like to be in love. To look at someone and be totally enraptured, and overcome with emotion and feel time stand still.”

“
Exactly!” His smile was like the sun, illuminating everything, sending chills over her body. “This is why I want to talk to you. You’re an artist, you understand life and see it in color, in emotion…I have that much, but the actual gift of creating is something beyond me. What did you feel when you painted last?”

“Umm, I was angry at first.”

“Angry?” With thoughtful eyes, “Weren’t you painting a portrait?”

“Yes.
Do you think a portrait requires any less emotion?”

“
I dunno…Was it a painting of someone who hurt you? Why the anger and why would you paint a picture of them?”

“Sometimes I don’t know what I’m painting
until I’m done. Or I figure it out as I go. This person didn’t do anything to me. I don’t hate him, I actually think I admire him. It’s the person attached to him who I can’t stand, whose evil.”

IIIII hhhhaaaattttteee yoooouuuuuu!
“Oh, sorry, sorry.” The young vampire ducked his head with each apology. Fumbling to re-plug his headphones.

“Come on dude! Get it together!” The clerk shouted, still not turning away from his magazine.

“Metal…disgusting.” Patrick rolled his eyes and then completely turned his focus on her. “So about this person…”

“Yes. A friend of mine is seeing a girl who is no stranger to evil.” Cinderella clenched her fist.

“We are evil creatures are we not?”

“Our habits make us children of evil.”

“Our emotion too. Is not hate a form of evil? Even
the day walkers are evil. Vampires are not alone in this life of sin.” He crossed his arms. “Humans kill their own for the pleasure, or
mental ailment
.” He scoffed. “We kill to survive.”

“We drink their blood, desiring the life that pumps through their veins, we are a different breed of evil.
And our murdering them for survival doesn’t make it okay.”

“It is okay. The way they kill animals to feed themselves, we simply do the same. They are our prey.”
Patrick shrugged and casually threw up is hands, like the answer to every problem was that simple.

“They aren’t ani
mals. Did you think you were an animal when you were alive?”

“Sometimes, human nature, is survival
. Anyway, do you think we should die? How else should we survive? We are created beings too.”

Cinderella couldn’t help her laughter.
“Oh gosh.”

“What is it? What do you find so funny?” Patrick whispered, ben
ding so his face was just directly in front of hers.

“
No peeking remember?” Guarding her face with her hands.

“Yeah, yeah…I’ll see it one day.” He spoke to her like
a long time friend. “Anyway tell me what you were laughing about?”

“You think we are created beings. We’re an absolute abomination, DNA gone wrong. We’re practically zombies.”

“Except our flesh doesn’t peel. And if we didn’t drink blood, it probably would peel. Dangling lips, and eyeballs. Not attractive at all.”

“Animal blood.”

“Seriously, what planet are you from? Have you tasted the stuff? It’s filthy, especially rats blood.” Frowning and gagging.

“
I can’t believe you drank rats’ blood.” She laughed harder. “Prince of Elite, drinking rats blood. “You’re very daring, but that seems a pretty low for you.” She coughed, trying to suppress more laughter.

“I see.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “There was an artist
, Christophé Moreau, he was brilliant. But his love for women and wine completely overtook him. A wasted life.”

“How did that lead you to drink rat blood?”

“Well Christophé, was quite the ladies’ man. One of his lovers found out about the many other women and burned his house to the ground. All of his paintings, he lost everything. He gave up on life. And while he was down, I would sit with him and try to get him to paint again. He chose to live on the streets and eat whatever they offered.”

“You lived that way?”

“For a very short time. Eventually, Christophé, by choice, faced the sun and let his life be taken.” Cinderella didn’t say anything, she didn’t know what to say. Nobody said anything to me when I lost my father. Hilda and the other maids weren’t allowed to speak to me. I was locked in the Sun Room for the morning and then thrown into my attic for days. Nobody cared enough to come to me, and here royalty lived on the streets to preserve a life. “What are you thinking about? Did you lose someone to the sun?”

“Huh? No. Not the sun.”
Cinderella could feel herself choking on tears.

“To what then?”

“Um…I think I should go. I need to get back.”

Patrick grabbed her arm, before she
could leave. “Answer me one question, before you go.”

“
Yes…” she said feeling a little disoriented. “Okay.”

“Would you change what you are?” Patrick stepped closer to her, making the space between them very small.
“Would you throw away this life?”

“
No. I wouldn’t change what I am. I would only change who I’ve become.” Cinderella tried to step back, but a pillar was in the way. She knew what he was doing, and she knew it was dangerous for her. He was too interested in her. She didn’t care if it was because she was an artist. She knew her life was at stake and she didn’t want to be caught with him.

“Who were you before?”

“I need to go.”

“One more question. Do you think we go to heaven when we die?”

“How can we go anywhere when we are without spirit?” And at that she snatched her arm away and fled the Manhattan Night Market.

***

Relief washed over Cinderella as she carried her bags home, after leaving the prince she went to the Night Market closest to her home. Markets were disbursed everywhere, but the Manhattan Market was the biggest and best one.

She had an hour left and sat in a café, it was a part of the market. They sold the usual things a human café
’s sold, the only difference was they had blood on the menu. Vampires still enjoyed the taste of human food. It didn’t fill them up, it provided no nourishment for them. They simply enjoyed the taste.