"..... Win-win."
Fedora stuck out his tongue, winking back at his reflection before spanking himself softly with a playful thwack.
Enough of the self-obsession; he had to lock in now before the morning transitioned into the heat of the afternoon.
"Okay.. dor-dor baby, time to go show these bitches who's the baddest of them all," he shimmered, grabbing his silk robe and sliding into it as he glided out of the bathroom.
"Advantages of a nepo baby," he presided softly the moment he stepped into his bedroom. The space had already been properly arranged in the time it took him to shower: duvets changed and pulled taut, pillows and plush toys arranged with geometric perfection, rugs vacuumed and curated to his exacting usual aesthetics.
Considering how tacky and chaotic the whole room had been when he went in, clothes strewn like a battlefield, Fedora knew the cleaner deserved a raise.That was a level of labor even he couldn't wrap his head around.
They had probably slid in while he was sulking naked behind the glass.
"Thank God for frosted glass," he muttered, his head snapping back to the bathroom door briefly before he walked over to the heavy purple curtains.
He dragged them aside, sliding the large window open to let the calm morning sun, mixed with nature's fresh air, spill into the now-brightened room.
Fedora pressed his eyes together, stretching his hands sideways to let the sun kiss his damp, smooth, glistening skin. Without a shred of shame, and with the gait of a man completely unbothered by the world, he let his robe slip off his body, falling freely and lazily to the floor.
"I can't help but ruin this clean-boy aesthetic," he scolded himself, abandoning the silk heap as he stepped into his walk-in closet.
Minutes passed, and Fedora was still inside that closet, the little droplets of water that had clung to his skin now transitioning into fine rings of sweat.
He was restless; his face twitched with a growing frustration as he kept grunting out his irritation in jagged intervals.He carelessly ransacked each layer on the counters, aggressively pushing stacks of designer wear to either side.
His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, keeping up with the frantic movement of objects.
"Where could I have dropped iiiiit?!" he hissed. He took a step backward, standing to his full height with one hand balanced on his snatched waist while the other pinched his forehead.
He tried to recall the last time...the last place, he'd worn the particular bracelet he was looking for.
The whole thing made him uneasy. First, he hated the lack of control in not being able to find things when he actually needed them.Second, that bracelet meant something; it was a gift his parents had bought for him back when they were still sane and not money-mad.
Now, they didn't see gifts as special anymore, but to Fedora, that piece of jewelry was a relic of a better time. And now, he had lost it.
"Think Fedora, think!" He paced from one end of the closet to the other, but the more he agitated his brain, the more the memory receded.
"Shit!" Anyway, it wasn't even the bracelet's fault. How was he supposed to remember anything when he hadn't stayed home for one full night since his return? It had been a blur of one cookout to another, club to club.
He exhaled as he came to a stop. Even if he remembered now, it was likely long gone, recovered by a janitor or swept into a gutter. It was pointless.
"I'll try asking Tyra,"
He resolved. After wasting another minute on a focused sulk, he finally chose his jogging outfit: a custom-made pink body-con jersey with black racing stripes down the sides and a cheeky kiss print on the back of the shorts. He pulled on portable shoes and socks, grabbed his pods, and slid into his water-carrier bag. He sprayed on a heavy layer of ouds and marched toward the door.
Placing his hand gently on the knob, his head snapped back to scan the room one last time before shifting toward the long mirror.
He caught his full reflection. Even in sportswear, he still looked tea and F.A.B: fascinating and breathtaking. He twisted to the side, kicking one leg up in a reflex of pure vanity, biting his finger with theatrical sass.
"Damn!" he exclaimed. Without wasting another second, he walked out and slammed the heavy door shut.
Fedora was still halfway down the stairs when he suddenly paused in his tracks. He heard it, the faint, warm banter echoing from the breakfast nook between his mother and their 'favorite child,' his sister.
His morning was about to get a little sour.
To think he was the younger child, yet his grown-ass sister received a surplus of attention and care that he could only dream of.
It used to make him sad, jealous, and profoundly upset, but he was fine with it now. It wasn't like he didn't know the reason why. It was because he felt and thinks his sister was a certified ass kisser
" Hell, I don't think, I know that for sure."
The painful part was that it never used to be like this. Not until the day he fully came out to them.
He could still vividly remember the look on their faces that day, especially his mother's. They didn't look impressed, and they certainly didn't look surprised.
They looked disappointed, which really threw Fedora off; he had never once given a signal since he was a child that he was 'straight.'
He would literally go to school in trousers and come home demanding a skirt or a dress or even wearing one.
And the response they gave him? The most basic, lifeless "Okay, what do you want us to do?" he had ever heard.
"What kind of parents reply to a 'coming out' like that?" Fedora reminisced bitterly as he resumed his walk down the stairs.
"They just don't have the balls to tell me they don't want a gay son."
They never said it to his face, but with the sudden, suffocating pampering and focus directed toward his sister, he didn't need a translator.
That was when he knew he was on his own. He doesn't faze him that much, though.
As of now, he didn't care as long as they didn't stop pumping his account every month.
"All I need is to save up more and leave this goddamned hell!" he murmured as he reached the final step, coming fully into view.
To be continued...