Veil

by aaron overfield

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is
entirely coincidental.

In other words, I made this shit up
so don’t be coming at me for no money
.

(Oh, especially Anderson Cooper and Christiane
Amanpour - but I swear I read all kindsa stuff bout how you can use
a public figure's name and likeness if you do it creatively.

I like you two a lot. I was getting my whole creative
on and shit.

Please don't sue me. Thank you.)

Copyright © 2012 Aaron Overfield

Smashwords Edition

Makeup: Megan Wunder

www.makeupwunder.com

Photography: Jenna Thall for Killer Imaging
Studios

www.killerimaging.com

Model: Misha Grace

All rights reserved.

That means there are no more reservations available
nor is there a guestlist.

I don't care if you're with the DJ. Do I look like I
care? Back of the line.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or
distributed in any printed or electronic form without my
motherfucking permission.

Copywritten, so dont copy
me
. – Missy Elliot

(see what I did there?)

Please do not be participating in no piracy of
copyrighted materials and shit because it be violating my sexy ass
rights. You don’t see me all violating up in your rights, do you?
Well, maybe if they was sexy I would.

10 9 8 7 6 (wtf are these numbers for? I never
understood that.) 5 4 3 2 1

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please
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this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your
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own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.

part one: veiling

part two: veiled

part three: unveiling

epilogues: unveiled

"by the way my love, we need milk"

E
levator

Elevator. Elevator. Elevator
.

The elevator was Jin’s first concern
.
The elevator consumed Jin’s morning. It dominated his thoughts
every day before work, even if the word itself didn’t cross his
mind. The elevator dictated his mood and actions from the moment he
opened his eyes until he arrived at it. Even then, Jin couldn’t
breathe unless the elevator doors sealed, with him
inside—
alone
.

The elevator wouldn’t let up and allow Jin to
relax until its doors actually met. Jin learned early on how
someone could interrupt those doors at the last second. They could
use a hand, a foot, a purse, a briefcase, or pretty much anything
they happened to have available and were willing to risk
losing.

Anything.

A lady used a stroller once, with baby
inside.

Jin’s goal was the same every morning: get to
the elevator before anyone else. Get to the elevator before most
people started their day.

Enter it alone.

Alone
.

The elevator was Jin Tsay’s greatest source
of anxiety and stress—greater than Veil.

That day was no different; no day was
different.

Jin was mindful of his sleeping wife as he
slid from underneath the covers. (After he stole a sneaky kiss from
her soft skin, of course.) He grabbed the meticulous pile of
clothes that were prepared by his doting Suren, which she left on a
chair next to the bedroom door; he entered the bathroom around the
corner to begin his daily routine; he was absolutely quiet as he
shut all doors and took each step. Jin did all of those things
without once making the slightest detectable sound—any sound that
could possibly disturb his Suren’s sleep.

Elevator
.

He wasn’t sure how certain aspects of their
lives achieved such a perfection of organized silence. It wasn’t as
if he and Suren ever spoke of such things. That was probably one of
the reasons he loved her. Suren intuited everything Jin required to
achieve his goals, although she never knew what his goals were, and
never once did she ask about them.

Not once did she ask; she just knew
him
. They didn’t plan how each morning should unfold or what
would be most efficient. There were no discussions about what steps
were required to ensure every morning went so smoothly. Suren Tsay
sensed precisely what Jin required, so he could be up and out the
door, without so much as rousing her, in time to make it to the
damned elevator before anyone else could encroach.

Jin never spoke to Suren about the elevator.
Never. He never even spoke about Veil itself, except to say the
project existed.

Still, somehow Suren managed to entwine their
lives together in such a way.

That morning—like every morning—Jin was
silently steered out the front door by the intuitive forethought of
his sleeping Suren. Everything Jin required was laid out before
him, and he followed an unobstructed, sequential path through their
house. Jin followed that path in the same manner of silence that
Suren used as she plotted it for him.

Elevator
.

First, Jin was led from their bedroom into
the bathroom, where he quietly groomed and dressed. Next, to the
kitchen, where he poured his coffee from the fresh, steaming,
programmed pot. He added a bit of sweetener and a splash of
soymilk. Jin grabbed the breakfast sandwich Suren prepared the
night before, which was wrapped and lovingly placed on the top
shelf of the fridge.

While the microwave warmed his food, Jin read
the morning greeting Suren left for him before she went to bed. Jin
jotted her a tender response. He wished Suren a good morning in
return, hoped she had a good day, and expressed his singular love
for her. They shared their daily words through a notebook that
remained on the kitchen counter for the sole purpose of such
exchanges.

He regretfully added a postscript …

By the way, my love, we need milk.

… which wasn’t penned as a reminder or a
prompt. Rather, it was offered as a considerate confession and
forewarning, should she drift toward the carton when she arose from
her slumber; he didn’t want her to open the refrigerator door with
expectation, only to be faced with disappointment. He wanted her to
get the bad news from him first.

Jin made sure to finish his note in time to
open the microwave door before the timer ran out, to avoid the
noisy ding. He carried his breakfast and paper cup of coffee to the
foyer
,
where he snatched up his briefcase.
Jin was then out the front door.

Elevator.

Jin trusted the trail his Suren prepared for
him. Her path led to the same ending every morning: Jin Tsay left
their home meticulously groomed and uniformly dressed, with his
coffee, breakfast, and briefcase in hand. Each time, from the
moment he opened his eyes, Jin’s routine lasted somewhere between
seventeen and twenty minutes.

That day, it took Jin eighteen minutes and
sixteen seconds.

That day was no different.