36 The Crystal Palace Part 1
An enormous building stands in front of them. Rosalind and Vivian animatedly talk while Feng Mian contemplates when she can go back home to Jinn. Walking through the double doors, Noe can already tell that they have a long day ahead of them when the scent of pedicure bubbles, boutique shampoo, and pressed linens wafts into his nose.
"Welcome to the Tower of Beauty. How can we assist you today?" a Caucasian man with perfect skin, a flutish voice, and a debonair smile elegantly greets them at the door.
"Reservation for Vivia-"
"Right this way, ma'am," the man stops Vivian before she continues. "You booked a haircut for one, male. Skin care for three, women, and tailoring for three if I'm correct?" he says in rapid progression, blinking his eyes, leaning forward and staring at Vivian.
"That's correct," Vivian responds in half a laugh.
Lightly tapping on a device against his ear, the man says, "Rebecca," and a young woman pads over. The man places a hand on Noe's upper arm, "Please take this fine young man to Greg's to meet us at tailoring in precisely an hour. Right this way please, ladies." Vivian, Rosalind, and Feng Mian bustle along down the finely lit lobby before disappearing through a door releasing the sounds of steam and leisure.
Noe is lead up a flight of stairs and through a courtyard with a sky window letting natural light in. It feels like a fairytale. Surrounded by all this empty space, Noe wonders why there are so many people stuck without a roof over their heads. Is this what Rosalind called 'pride'?
"Hi," a large man with well groomed chest hair peeking over his friendly t-shirt greets Noe, a slender pair of scissors between his hands, "I'm Greg and I'll be in charge of your gorgeous lion's mane today. Please, take a seat," Greg firmly pats the leather recliner chair in front of him.
Taking up his offer, Noe sits upon the chair and puts his legs between the silver ring projecting from the chair's cylindrical basis.
"What can I do for you today?" Greg asks. Noe pulls out a paper with Vivian's notes from his robes and hands it to Greg. "Such a shame, we have to chop it all of," Greg briskly runs his hands through Noe's hair.
"It'll grow back to this length by tomorrow. That's why my mom never bothered cutting my hair when I was younger."
Greg laughs heartedly, "You've got one active imagination. Now, to build you into a tower of a man."
An hour later, Noe emerges styled in a short blowout with tapered sides. Every strand of his hair shines.
"This way please," Rebecca keeps her head down as she walks Noe up further flights of stairs.
"You look wonderful, Noe," Vivian comments. "The barber is alright?"
"Yup. He's fine."
"Oh, congratulations! Judging by how... otherwise intimate you were with Daniel I thought that you found a means to control your heat but witnessing it myself," Vivian begins to tear up. "I wish I had been there to see you grow so... so..."
"No no no, don't cry," Rosalind grabs onto Vivian's arms and hugs her as if she were a fragile piece of fine china.
Touching his exposed ears, the draft plays with Noe's skin. It is the first time in years that his head has been so free; exposed to the elements. The snicked nerve endings at the tips of Noe's hair tingle and spark like mini fireworks.
"Welcome to the tailoring store," the man from earlier opens the doors to another room.
Feng Mian's refreshed hair bounces as they walk through the threshold and look up. Shelves of fabric run up for miles in every luxurious colour possible. Hanging on hundreds of racks is suits and dresses galore. From the floors to the changing room doors, everything is covered in glitz and glam. Where he stands, Noe cannot see the end of the roomfull of clothes and cloths.
"We'll be taking your measurements now." Equipped with a measuring tape, the man stretches out his hands across Noe's broad shoulders while Rebecca determines the ladies' bearings.
"Please pick a choice of dress, any suit or floor-length gown is at your disposal. We do the rest. Take your time," the man advises before he kicks his left bottom with his foot and gushes out the room. Rebecca follows behind him.
"Rosalind you'll take a scarlet colored dress, Feng Mian choose a jade one and Noe pick something scarlet," Vivian instructs them. "Scarlet and green are Kamiyama's favourite colours. All the pieces in here are solely affordable for the top percentiles. As long as you have these clothes on and your healthy appearances, you will look the part."
Wiping his drooping face and deep purple eyebags with his palms and fingers, Noe looks through the outfits hung in pompous display. He picks one.
Three hours later, the group returns to wipe away any sweat collected on their foreheads, delicately apply perfume chosen by Vivian herself, and straighten themselves out within their perfectly formfitting attire.
~
Stationed a street away, Vivian looks up at the Crystal Palace which has earned its name. It is built in the shape of a spiralling diamond with glassy walls giving an indestructible crystal appearance. No matter how hard one tries to look through its surfaces, they cannot.
A huge 'crystal' is in the center of the city.
Another sun sets as lines of bourgeois automobiles unload the city's very own VIP guests. Vivian is sure Noe and his friends have secured their spot at the event.
~
A harp melodies as the sleek elevator opens its polished stainless steel doors.
Vivian's words reverberate in their memories, 'Singling out the problems of the redevelopment plans will do nothing for Kamiyama's campaign. She'll easily bounce back from any inhumane accusations the same way she brainwashed citizens to believe revoking human rights is natural.'
The confident pitter patter of heels and a man's wingtips tapping to the harshness of the glassy floor beneath them resonates throughout the massive glass chamber.
'We have to pluck her from her roots and turn the weapon she uses to gain approval against her. We must dislodge the people's reason for voting for her. The elixir of life. Taking that away would mean Kamiyama loses her main selling point. If you find any dirt on it, or her 'everlastings', and obtain stacking evidence, Kamiyama will crash and burn.'
These taps belong to Rosalind, whose classy scarlet jumpsuit boasts two trains of vibrant, trailing fabric; Feng Mian with her jade kimono inspired gown dazzled at the waist by streaks of scarlet gemstones; and Noe, a fine black suit hugging his thick arms and legs, finalized by a popping scarlet tie exacted around his neck.
The immense expanse of the hall they have entered primordially boasts Athenian columns of crystals resembling a controlled rapid of water. Although the world outside is dark, not a hint of dimness can be felt. Golden luminescence refracts within the walls giving the appearance of light playing within them. It feels like fresh air. The white light looks ethereal.
Only human beings dressed to the nines mar the refined sight. Their garish makeup, talons of long nails, and weighing accessories' purpose are to assert dominance. "I have more money than you," their adornments say.
Waitresses and waiters with champagne on circular glass trays swerve around Noe, Rosalind, and Feng Mian. Quiet chatter and mumbles buzz in the room as everyone scrutinizes the new arrivals. Finally, someone steps forward.
"Patel!" a man with an oily smile that smells like money greets Rosalind with open arms. Rosalind recognizes his voice from the many phone conversations her father used to pick up during their basement sessions together.
"I was a friend of your father, please call me Jorge. My sincerest apologies, I did not get to present my condolences at your father's funeral but I am glad that you are well. With how much I heard about you and how you were always busy with school and other projects, I cannot help but be inspired by your hard work. Do you finally plan on taking over Patel Holdings? Prime Minister Kamiyama has great plans for Northville too and needs your influence to make them happen."
The three Ephrenes stare back wordlessly, their unadulterated faces limmering forth like sunshine on a cloudy day.
"Would you like to introduce me to your companions?"
Rosalind gestures to Feng Mian and Noe individually, reciting their fake identities, "This is Nicholas, heir to Khumalo & Co. and this is F-"
Animated, "Khumalo & Co.?" Jorge gestures to a young black man, taller than Noe himself, in a white suit, "Then you two must know each other. Lancaster, come over here!"
White dress shoes turning to face scarlet and green reveal Noe's old schoolmate.
"Meet Lancaster Khumalo," Jorge announces, "Great-grandson of Babatunde Khumalo and Chief Architect at Khumalo & Co."
