Mask of A Legend (6 page)

A
dreamlike landscape filled the otherwise elite room, grasping decorative, ravishing beauty that hung from all edges of the walls. Shadows that displayed young girls nervous by the sight, and silhouettes of older adults gaping at the intriguing innocence, as if they were judging them by the amount of nerves that filled their juvenile personas were what ached in the air, smelling like the sweat which formed under the girls’ already smeared make-up. Red velvet drapes hung from several large chandeliers, and the classical music that played in the magnificent space filled the air, giving a voice to the stunning fresco paintings that were etched in the walls, and breathed life into the large, painted vases that stood on green, marble pedestals spread out throughout the room. Red velvet was everywhere, covering the floors and mingling its way into the walls while the light from the chandeliers reflected off the material, giving the velvet a glow that radiated the room, giving a soft shade of red and peculiar shadows that bounced off the youths of beauty. Nirvana, or at least a sense of it, was frolicking around every corner, but all eyes were not on the room at all, but on a single woman by the name of ‘Paula’. She sat in the center of the ballroom-like space at the Drake hotel, watching as girls stood in a long line that stretched all the way out to the Chicago streets. The young knew she was of importance, the way her posture was straight, her clothes were intriguing and make-up was perfect, and how her figure sat behind the center of the table made her status climb high in the imaginations of the girls.

Paula started to get drowsy, looking at the time up on the wall that read 6:50 p.m., while girls of all ages showed their pictures to her and anticipated that Paula saw beauty in their image. “So, Paula, did you see any future supermodels yet?” a man asked, smiling and sitting down beside her. He also began looking at pictures of the young girls who perceived him suddenly as a person of importance, like Paula.

“Well, Steve, if you want me to be honest, I don’t know,” Paula replied. She peered her sharp eyes at an obese girl walking up to her. The girl handed a photo of herself, Paula looked at her picture and then grabbed a stamp and pressed it hard over the girl’s photo. The stamp read ‘Denied.’ “I’m sorry,” Paula said to her. The young, obese girl formed tears in her eyes and ran away. “You know, Steve, this is the one part of this job that I hate. I just wish that this world would accept beauty from the inside! Or perhaps this bloody business.”

“Then why did you turn her down?”

Confusion struck Paula’s brown eyes, gazing at Steve like an ignorant chimp. “We’re inviting some of the top modeling agents to come to our search, and I don’t want to disappoint them by showing average girls. They want beautiful girls, and especially girls who stand out: I’m going to give them that!” Paula then played with her long, blonde beautiful hair, twisting a few strands together: a nervous habit. She then put her hair up in a bun while the line, which consisted of young girls from fifteen and up, with a single dream, grew longer. “My one dream is to find a girl who’s beyond beautiful, that’s all, Steve,” Paula whispered. She placed a pencil in between her hair to keep her bun in place. “The evolution of this business is changing every year. First they want skinny women, then fat, or voluptuous as the critics put it. Then it changed to big foreheads, small foreheads, and on and on. Steve, I can’t keep up. But I do know what I’m looking for and I still haven’t found her.” Then she noticed a young girl who stood right in front of her. She lingered up toward the girl’s hair and saw how it was long, brown and beautifully kept. She looked at the girl’s gorgeous face as well as her figure and slowly dropped her mouth. Steve stared at her also with amazement on his face as the young girl handed Paula a photo of herself. Paula, nervous from the excitement of this girl’s attractiveness, looked it over and saw the girl’s name at the bottom of it. “So, is this your real name, Dina?”

“Yes, my name is Dina Monroe. The last name was my idea.” Paula noticed a red mark on her face. Dina detected her looking at the mark and immediately covered it with her hand. “Oh, don’t worry, this isn’t acne beginning to form, I was just in a little fight yesterday.” Paula smiled at her in relief.

“Oh good, because I have to tell you that I think you’ll get a good modeling agent to represent you,” Paula assured. She picked up the stamper and pressed it hard on Dina’s photo. The stamp read ‘Approved’. “Just wait in the lobby for a little bit. In about twenty minutes we’ll be showing a tape about the model search for those who are invited, like yourself,” Paula explained, handing Dina a few brochures. “You’re definitely going to get an agent.”

“Why thank you,” Dina said. “I know I’ll get an agent, I just hope that I won’t have to put up with the hassle of getting a shitty one!” She then grabbed her photo and the brochures from Paula and walked away.

“You know, Steve, why can’t a girl be beautiful, and also be nice at the same time?” Paula asked. She stared at Dina exiting the ballroom. “Well, at least the agents will be happy to know that their payment to us for being here, yet again, won’t go to waste.”

“Paula, no one’s perfect. Besides, maybe you just haven’t met any girls who were kind and beautiful simultaneously.”

“I don’t know, I mean, take that Dina girl, for instance. She’s beautiful, and I know damn well she’s rich, but that one quality that’s most important in this business, she’s lacking. That quality is to not have a stick up your ass,” Paula remarked, followed by Steve’s laughter.

The dreamlike landscape of the room, mixed with the reflected red velvet, slowly Paula’s eyelids began to get heavy. But they continued their commitment of looking over more girls’ photos. Meanwhile, past the chandeliers, velvet, vases, green marble pedestals and fresco paintings, Dina finally reached the exit of the hotel. She walked out and felt a cold breeze run against her sweaty, make-up-enhanced face, the chill freezing her sweat. She looked at the line of girls who stretched all the way down the block and walked opposite of where the line led to, observing as these young girls looked at her with envy and enjoying it.

Mingled within the line, a nervous voice, belonging to Legend, said, “Oh my God, that’s Dina,” after she noticed Dina walking toward her.

“Alright, just turn around and maybe she won’t notice us,” said Jenny. Dina passed by them without even acknowledge their faces.

Legend turned back around and saw Dina walking over to a taxicab while the line started moving.
If only the cab could hit her. No.
Legend suddenly felt a breath of sadness rush over her face, mixed with the cold, chipping away the only hope of succeeding that she ever had in her life. It’s as if the moment she saw Dina, the negative empowerment she had over Legend for a long time abruptly came full circle again. “I wonder where her friends are,” said Legend. Dina’s taxi drove off.

“Who cares where the other bitches are at? All I know is this line is long, and my ass is freezing,” Jenny mumbled. Her mouth felt the numbness from the cold wind.

“Do you think they’ll accept this picture of me?” Legend showed her photo to Jenny, grasping onto it tightly due to the wind craving to tear it out of her hand.

“Well, girl, you are thirteen years old in this picture. But, maybe they will,” replied Jenny. Girls passed by them, some had tears in their eyes, others had solid smiles on their faces, just like Dina had, separating the two emotions that Legend would inevitably feel after she exits the hotel.

“This is the only picture that I have where I don’t have acne, or even stringy, blonde hair.” Jenny rubbed Legend’s back to calm her.

“Listen, calm down, it’s gonna be fine. Just follow the plan that you explained to me yesterday. All you have to do is hand them your photo while covering up part up your face with this scarf. We covered up most of your zits with make-up, so this should be a cinch.” Jenny handed Legend a red scarf and continued to rub her back.

“What are you talking about? You can still see my acne through the make-up!” Legend was frantic, seeing the line moving faster and closer to the entrance of the hotel. Suddenly, through her poetically mixed emotions, lightning shot out from the sky, thunder followed and ice-cold raindrops began to fall. There was no time for any of the nervous girls to think how amazing it was to see this type of deranged weather during such a cold season. But for Chicagoans it was nothing new. The wind that traveled through the skyscrapers grew faster and larger, and the darkened, gloomy clouds moved faster against the hidden sun. To some, this would be a cliché of movement, depicting that someone or something was coming from the heavens. Yet the girls who stood in line only worried about keeping their balance against the ravishing winds, mixed with grueling rain. At that instance, a young, black girl tapped Legend on the shoulder.

“Well, if you keep the scarf on your face, they won’t notice the acne,” the stranger said. Legend turned around and saw acne on the girl’s face as well. “You see, I’m gonna do the same thing, too,” she added as she held up a blue scarf and put it around her neck.

“Thanks,” Legend said. The wind calmed, but the rain still coveted to thrive throughout the city. The rain stopped hitting their heads when they entered the hotel entrance, and the line moved faster while Legend noticed the black girl smiling toward her. “Do I know you?”

“No, my name is Angelica Winters.” She shook Legend’s hand and looked at Legend with a smile: a kind, familiar expression that treated Legend’s emotions like Angelica did know her. Angelica, seeming like she was in her mid-twenties, had a soothing voice, a kind one that could only reflect smiles to anyone who heard it.

“Oh, my name is Legend Conaway, and this is my friend, Jenny Smithers.” Angelica shook Jenny’s hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Jenny. Legend looked up at the luxuriant foyer of the hotel and saw a fresco painting of angels on the ceiling. She looked over at the different types of artistic vases that stood on separate pedestals. Then she looked over and saw a huge, beautiful, Chinese plate that stood to the right of her on a huge, brown, glossy table.

“This place is beautiful,” Legend remarked. They came up to the stairway that led to the ballroom and the line started to get smaller, vanishing almost to nothing as they proceeded to enter the ballroom. The anxiety grew in Legend’s mind the shorter the line appeared.

“Don’t be afraid, Legend.” Angelica noticed fear in Legend’s eyes. Legend turned to face her while Jenny gave Legend a quick hug for support.

“Are you afraid, Angelica?” Legend asked.

Jenny looked to the front of them and saw the table that stood in the middle of the room. Angelica questioned, “What is there to be afraid of?”

“Alright, after this girl, it’s gonna be your turn,” Jenny warned. Legend quickly turned around and saw Paula.

“I wish I was beautiful, so that I wouldn’t have to wear this scarf,” said Legend. Angelica smiled toward her again.

“Watch what you wish for,” Angelica stated. Jenny and Legend looked at her in uncertainty.

“I wish it would come true!” Angelica smiled even more toward her. Then, inhaling a quick breath of air, Legend turned around and walked up to Paula in the reddish-colored room, while putting her scarf over her face to mask her supposed unattractive features, including her acne she so despised. Nervous, fearful, her spine twisting itself into knots, Legend handed Paula a picture of herself while Angelica and Jenny waited behind her. Paula looked over her photo as she grabbed the stamper and Legend just stood there with apprehension in her psyche. Even though she hoped that the stamp Paula was about to place on Legend’s photo was a positive, symbolic one, she still tried acknowledging that it might not be, and that her chances of Paula seeing her beauty were highly slim indeed.

Just before she was ready to stamp Legend’s photo, Paula stopped and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Oh, my name is Legend, Legend Conaway.”

“How old are you in this photo?” Paula asked, looking at her photo more closely. Legend turned away from her and looked at Jenny, not knowing what do, how to answer the question, debating if a lie should follow or perhaps the truth should just flow out.

Legend faced Paula again, replying, “Oh, I’m thirteen years old here.”

Eyes widening so far that the make-up under Paula’s eyes began to crumble, Paula couldn’t believe that Legend told the truth. “Most girls tell me a lie when I ask that.” Paula smiled at Legend, wiped away some of the crumbles of mascara that cracked and fell near her pupils of brown, and then noticed Legend pulling her red scarf close to her face. “Do you have a cold, Miss Conaway?” Legend pulled the scarf closer to her image, attempting to hide herself more, including the lie she didn’t want to birth.

She didn’t know whether to lie or not, fib or stretch the truth, so she said the first words that came to her mind. “No, I just don’t want you to see my face.” Legend was sad when she answered her, but Paula still smiled toward her again.

“My God, no girl has ever been so truthful with me before,” Paula stated. She turned to Steve and noticed him looking at Legend, too. Steve winked his right eye at Paula and gave a grin. Silence took over the meeting and now it was up to guessing Steve’s facial expressions to guide Paula’s next actions. So, she put down the stamper and grabbed the other one. She pressed it down hard on Legend’s picture and said, “Have a nice day. Oh, and for future references, I would get professional photos of yourself.” Legend grabbed the photo, turned around to face Angelica and Jenny, walked up to them quickly, and cried behind her scarf.