Splendificent

by Dacy Alex

  "Ya won't be selling this one back anytime soon," she said, tossing it to the floor.

  Stuart was left wheezing and lying against his gaming chair. Though again Giselle didn't know if his exhaustion was because of his overdose or his insane spiel. But more importantly, his erection had diminished to flaccidity. The cold, clammy hands and explosive bowels side effects from BigStense would remain, however.

  "We saved ya," she pointed out with a wink, "aaaaaand I think I better take those pills from you."

  Stuart wanted a high-five, but Giselle was so not down for that shit.

  Chapter Two: Prince Charming and The Foxy Lady

  Giselle typed a quick "yes" and let Stuart know she reached her condo, and it was the greatest thing ever in the history of the thousand other things she called greatest thing ever. But she was super busy so she didn't have time to hear conspiracy theories about how South Africa doesn't exist and is actually a chemical weapons testing ground for a cabal of communist zombies.

  What she was most transfixed by was that mural. It called to her. More than a painting should. Like the way a mother called to a child.

  "Nyx, the great Greek goddess of the night," said an accented male voice that was like listening to Ode to Joy while riding on a dildo made of roses and strawberry jam.

  Looking up from her phone, Giselle realized she was next to a guy she thought to be her age. Maybe she was hallucinating? She wasn't sure because this gentleman was too beautiful to be anything but a hallucination. A vision crafted by a woman who tempted fate this morning by mixing a can of Starbuck's Doubleshot with two 5mg Benadryls.

  His pouty lips formed a shy smile. Long eyelashes hung above sparkling purple eyes. The sunlight through the windows seemed pale and jealous of his radiant light brown skin. There was brown hair in an artful tumble of curls. Giselle had a fervid urge to snag that hair around her fingers and pull him into a kiss she'd never let go of.

  And he smelled great!

  Giselle stammered utter asininity. Later she wouldn't even be able to recall if they were actual words.

  "She lived in Tartarus," he told her in an airy breezy way. "A place of great suffering. Woe be to one who met the goddess residing there, wouldn't you guess?"

  There was nothing she could say. She only heard the word Tartarus in supernatural anime. She didn't think this guy was too interested in anime.

  "Uh, maybe?" She blurted then immediately wanted to kill herself.

  He just gave a chuckle that made Giselle want to whisk something so beautiful out of this ruthless, repugnant world.

  "Forgive me. You are Giselle Nyfall, correct? I am Krisdane Elvrina. Prince Krisdane Elvrina."

  There was a certain flair in the way he announced his name that made Giselle feel like it should come with video game cinematics complete with light effects, fancy colors, and a unique font that spelled out Krisdane Elvrina.

  "Prince--" she struggled, words fused in her throat refusing to come out. "Charming?"

  His face was red with embarrassment.

  "We all have our nicknames in my family. Be thankful you did not meet Rodgir the Grandson of the Bitch," he said, closing his eyes and laughing.

  "That's a video game character!" she shouted before she could halt herself.

  There was a moment of confused silence from the prince. A short moment that to Giselle felt like time dragged out to be inhumanly long.

  "So it is," he affirmed. But Giselle could tell, she could just tell, that he thought she was a dumb-dumb who licked the gum found stuck beneath school desks. Which she was accused of doing in tenth grade.

  He suggested, "We are to return Sofi Poe to your dwelling before Tristabelle becomes overwrought. I believe Sofi is at the same restaurant we dined at yesterday. Shall we be off to find her then? "

  Not wanting to risk her mouth spewing vapid rubbish, Giselle remained quiet and nodded.

  It was a simple matter of putting one foot in front of another. She took her first steps at only eight months old, which Stephen Nyfall loved to boast about.

  So then why is she rooted in place?

  "Uh, are you sure you want to go with me?" She pointed at herself, as her blue eyes shrunk in disbelief, her mouth formed a half-grimace.

  "Can you think of someone better to accompany me?"

  Giselle whipped her head to search, "Uh, I guess not?"

  "Nor I."

  His arm waved her forward, a refined movement as precise as his dancer sister. A phone toppled to the ground. Giselle turned just in time to see the woman with the Gucci purse, scowling at her for pulling such a hot dude.

  Hhehehehhe!

  Whereas walking came difficult, Giselle was determined not to let talking be a laborious undertaking.

  I'm the main character, of course, I can talk to a prince!

  "Aren't you gonna be hot?" she heard herself say then actually put her hand over her mouth.

  New York had the kindness not to reach the 95-degree temperature she read the city had last week. But it was most assuredly not fit for a man who wore light pink pants and a white dress shirt. The shirt had red rose embroidery crawling up the sleeves and down the collar so that they encircled the same dancing woman that Giselle saw on Tristabelle's robe. The only thing revealing skin so it could breathe were four undone buttons.

  Krisdane stopped at the giant glass doors, "I should think not. Feel the material if you dare doubt me."

  Feel Krisdane! Or at least feel his material? That was a hell yes!

  What was the word her creepy principal said about her? Concupiscence? "Giselle, around you my concupiscence knows no limits!" Around Krisdane Giselle's concupiscence knew no limits.

  Giselle clamped down on his arm with all five fingers getting in on the Krisdane action. Not a nanosecond passed that Giselle didn't savor this. As for the material? It was so light she could feel his skin. His skin!

  "I said to feel the material not feel me," he pointed out with a merry sort of musical chuckle.

  In vain, Giselle lingered just a bit on that magical gorgeous arm of this magical gorgeous man. But after those three seconds passed, she removed her hand.

  "Eeep! I'm so sorry!" she rushed out.

  He held the door open for her. And for an old lady behind him.

  "You two make such a cute couple," The lady complimented, her small eyes taking them in.

  Krisdane had a bashful smile, his eyes closed, his face looking down, "Thank you, my lady."

  Forget acknowledging their non-existent relationship. Giselle felt fortunate Krisdane was still even acknowledging her existence. Everything altogether, this was a C- interaction. Giselle was better than this. She had done better on dating apps. The Internet equals real life, obviously, so she should be fine.

  If only that damn squirrel didn't get in her way.

  She swore she didn't see it, but it crisscrossed her path with something in its mouth, and she stumbled over it.

  "I'm so klutzy," she lamented. Though she was glad she didn't trip and fall into the Sanitation Department truck parked in front of them.

  "I am most certain you make up for it in the right spots."

  He is charming!

  "If you follow me, I can lead us to Sofi," Krisdane said, almost like he read her mind.

  The pair didn't quite walk arm-in-arm, but Giselle kept it so her body heat could maybe be fucking his body heat.

  "I know what you are thinking," his voice broke a bit in embarrassment.

  Oh god no.

  "How am I Tristabelle's half-brother?"

  Oooh, that is a good question.

  "King Fenrisson had a bit of a roll with Lady Davenkiss and..."

  In a rare act of grace and reflexes, Giselle dodged a pizza delivery biker. Go her.

  "That didn't make the queen upset?" Giselle asked.

  "Not at all. It was the queen who welcomed me. My eldest sister, Astrid, who taught me to ride, how to wrestle, and how to sword fight," he said, then clicked his mouth shut.


  A few seconds passed before she could find anything else to say.

  "So you have no bodyguards either? What if someone tries to assassinate you?"

  His tone was without malice, just an even keel, "Woe be to the soul who dares to cross an Elvrina."

  "And what about the non-Elvrina standing next to you? What if someone shoots at you, misses, and her brains get splattered all over East End Street?"

  "I had not considered that. Shall I call for an escort from the consulate?"

  Giselle had a choice. Ride with a bunch of suited-up security dudes toting big guns. Or walk with the man who's gorgeous enough to retire People's Most Beautiful award.

  "Nah, I'm think I'm safest with the prince who has ISIS shook."

  A man passed by looking at Krisdane and singing one of R. Kelly's dirtiest songs. He reminded Giselle of her old principal.

  "So what does a prince do exactly? Because I make meme pages. But someone hacked into my computer and then my phone and deleted it and stole my mom's credit card number, which is way worse, but I loved that meme page."

  "I myself am..." Krisdane seemed to struggle for words, his mouth opening but saying nothing. But then he recovered to say. "A member of the Air Force."

  "That seems awfully dangerous for a prince!"

  Krisdane shook his head with a chuckle.

  He has such a cute laugh!

  "My sister Astrid is the highest ranking in the field. Astrid Iron Wings."

  I got a drone for Christmas. We're so alike! We are a one true pairing. Squeal!

  A few feet from them before the entrance to a parking garage and near an intersection, two guys, one in a dirty red hat, the other missing several front teeth, were pounding sticks against overturned rusty trashcans. To the ears it sounded like they were playing a fierce tune. But it also sounded to the ears like they intended to drive people to cutting off said ears.

  Krisdane stopped in front of the duo, spellbound, his eyes tearing up, "Magnificent! A crisscross of blinding carnality when faced with a world of oppressive morality. A gold piece to you minstrels."

  Krisdane reached into his pocket, pulled out a thick gold coin, and tossed it to the men.

  With the tune in his head, Kris hummed at the crosswalk.

  Giselle inched herself just a tiny bit closer to Krisdane to make the haters jealous. She wondered, "Are you a, uh," Giselle scanned her mind for a fancy term to use, "a connoisseur of music?"

  "Of sorts. I play the guitar. Queen Brunhilde is my biggest patron. Though she says my music sounds rather melancholy. At this moment," he glanced at Giselle, "I might strum sweeter notes."

  Giselle was going to say, "I'd love to hear it!" but instead she tripped over a rock. What should be the beginning of a broken nose, a visit to the ER, lecturing by her mother, and facial scarring was all prohibited by Krisdane catching her arm.

  Prince Charming tossed his brown hair back ever so slightly. But just enough that Giselle wanted to toss him into the nearest vehicle, swarm her lips around his pouty ones, and fuck him till they heard screams in Golden Land.

  Instead, she gathered herself, just barely, and barked, "Shit! Shit! I'm such a klutz!"

  Her sneakers stomped underneath a construction awning, with her big blue eyes now watchful for dastardly debris.

  After several seconds of silence, Krisdane said in a low voice, "Tristabelle banished me from the ice when I figure-skated with her. I may have dropped her on her head once or twice."

  It's almost impossible to fathom. The dashing prince twirling and twirling and twirling his princess only to leave her with CTE.

  "She doesn't seem like the type of person to take a headshot with reason and understanding," Giselle replied, sliding past a guy handing out fliers to a new diner.

  "Her words were, 'Krisdane, you are more scourge than brother, more devil than sibling. And when I deposit your severed head on father's desk, the realm will rejoice and the gods will smile," Krisdane said, eyes closed, long lashes pressed down, pouty lips curved into a smile.

  Did he say gods with an s?

  "She called me 'simple,'" Giselle remarked, her pouty lips now taking on an actual pout.

  There was another spell of silence. This one coming with Krisdane rounding on her. His eyes were bigger than before.

  "I have my doubts about that," he decided with a firm nod.

  Yes! This was her iron fillings coming together with his iron fillings to create a spark.

  The time to shoot her shot and turn that spark into the fires of hot sex and passionate love had arrived.

  I'm a good looking girl. I'm cool. I got this.

  Giselle's sneakers came to an abrupt stop in front of a pharmacy. There was a giant poster with a pretty teenage girl that hawked same day photo printing. Giselle's smile made that girl look like a glowering ogre.

  "Ya know what, let's hold off on getting Sofi," she suggested, twisting her torso back and forth, eyes fluttering.

  "Hold off?"

  "I mean, it's just adultery. It's barely even a sin! Let's just see New York. How often do you even come to America?"

  "Never. We rarely leave our country," Krisdane responded with an even voice. "Queen Brunhilde all but challenged my father to open combat in her quest to see Tristabelle come to this school."

  Giselle paused for a moment to soak in the casual admittance to near domestic violence between two heads of state.

  Once that moment was up, it was time for the hard-sell. The hardest of sales! The hardest sale selling has ever seen! Giselle knew the way to any man's heart...

  "We can do a Spider-Man tour!" She announced. "Yeah? We can see where all the fights from the movies took place. Call me crazy, but I will die for my right to love the Andrew Garfield Spider-Man."

  This hard-sell seemed to find a purchaser. Krisdane's lips swirled into a huge smile, one that has a passing middle-aged Asian woman lowering her sunglasses to gawk at.

  "If this Andrew Garfield is part-spider part-man, we should capture him for my sister, Princess Magilinda's, studies. Perhaps she could even cure him of his curse. If she cannot, Rodgir will end his misery swiftly enough."

  She shot her shot and it ended up in the fifth row.

  Giselle bit the right corner of her lip, closed her eyes and said, "Let's just go get Sofi, Prince."

  The enormity of her despair weighed heavily enough on Giselle to visibly sag her shoulders. Like the lonely old hags of fate were pressing them down with ten-pound weights. This poor beautiful man was oblivious to the sublimity of their future marriage. Oblivious to the sensuous techniques she learned from Making Sex Fun, when she quickly browsed the book in Barnes and Noble while her mother was reading a Glen Beck book. He was oblivious to Spider-Man, which may have been the saddest thing of all.

  Krisdane led the way, whistling a tune that Giselle couldn't recognize. It was infused with a sadness that had Giselle seeing him on stage. It was almost symphonic, sounding like no human whistle she had ever heard. Yet Queen B had a point.

  "And here we are." Krisdane said at the end of his whistle.

  A row of tables was laid in front of a diner with a rustic brown facade. Ellen Choo's, the sign read, in skinny yellow font. Orange umbrellas were folded in front of the diner and stood between pots with an angelic motif and pink shrubbery. The way the shrubbery was set made it look like the trumpeting angels were expelling pink bursts of color.

  "Who are we looking for, Prince Krisdane?"

  "There she is. Right up ahead," his finger pointed to a seated woman with red curly hair that streamed like a rush of blood.

  Traffic law and jaywalking tickets be damned, Krisdane gave a fuck you to the NYPD and crossed against the light in front of one of their cruisers. Curses were hollered from the officers, but Krisdane didn't give them a thought or a reply. Instead, he kept walking to Sofi's table with Giselle hurrying behind him. The irate officers nearly reduced Giselle to a mangled mound of flesh and tattered American Eagle, but she got to Krisdane in one piec
e.

  "Sofi," he began with a bow, "your presence is requested by Tristabelle."

  He didn't bow for me. Am I not bow worthy? Do I not deserve the bow?

  The redhead turned around, and what Giselle saw astonished her and had her mouth twisting into a jealous frown while her heart betrayed her and melted into the consistency of oatmeal. Fleur was fitness-model hot. Tristabelle was classically beautiful. But this one...

  She's the finest woman I've ever seen!

  Giselle had been able to watch tryouts for L.A. Rams cheerleaders, but this chick made those girls look like an offensive lineman after a round of Old Country Buffet.

  Giselle was already mentally undressing her. Although it probably wouldn’t take much for Sofi to undress with her jean shorts riding up her healthy thighs, her stomach entirely exposed, and her more than healthy flesh missiles, as Giselle would term them, bursting through a top that read “FAMOUS.”

  Sofi's hairstyle framed a triangular face that Giselle thought could be on TV gushing about the latest facial wash or Revlon makeup. Freckles dotted skin that was the near same color as Krisdane's. Burning brighter than her spectacular hair was long red lips in an easy smile.

  The freckled beauty stood up causing Giselle to helplessly ogle her voluptuous body. Her proportions of well endowed chest, sensuous hips, and a thick butt reminded Giselle of a rap video.

  "Kris, you're back," she said with a brightness filling her voice. "And, heeyyyy yoooouuu," she greeted Giselle. "Haven't seen you in a minute."

  The ginger's long lips above an angular chin formed a tempting smile.

  "It's been more than a minute. It's been never," Giselle corrected with an embarrassed grin. "I'm Giselle Nyfall, your new roomie."

  "Oh. I thought you were that stalker I had on Twitter last month. I think she shot her parents though. So you totally couldn't be her. You're extraordinary also? So what are you then?"

  "What am I?"

  At that moment, the budding artist, occasional vlogger, and video game streamer didn't seem too extraordinary.

  "Um, I guess I'm just me," Giselle said, voice barely audible above New York traffic.