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The long table at the corner of the restaurant was full. There were loud chattering going on, the spreading of gossip and perhaps some hints of business deals for the future. Everyone was carefully ignoring the couple seated at the centre – a beautiful lady, staring intently at the red linen tablecloth, and the host, doing his best to comfort his date by giving her the warmest hugs: It’s alright, I’m here for you.
She was beautiful, but people rarely liked Amanda. She was the kind of person that gave off an unwelcoming aura the moment she entered a room. Her face was smooth and long, forehead protruding, nose sharp. She had large almond eyes that gave very strong glares, and a never smiling big mouth that warded off friendships. Her height was average but the way she held herself, it was as if she towered over everyone – it was often seen as arrogance.
For all the cold exterior, Amanda was highly sought-after in her career. Her agent once said that she was never going to make it into the industry as she was only able to take angry, one-dimensional pictures. Today the said agent thanks her stars everyday for not letting go of this gem. It seemed that not being able to take perky commercial pictures was not a problem, because Amanda’s brooding demeanor attracted the couture world.
How can one be so cold, and yet find success in a vicious, survival of the fittest world? Amanda’s answers include bulimia, constant depression and self-inflicted injuries. People saw her as proud, but she was insecure. Modeling didn’t make her happy, but it made her feel productive. It was a reason to keep going, to look forward to next week, because she was needed. She hated to disappoint.
When does the madness stop? When will people completely stop what they are doing, sit down and rest, tear up their editorials and apply for a job at the bank?
Life was simple with Jake. She didn’t have to please. She didn’t have to paint her face and put on a look. She could eat anything she liked and there will not be questioning stares. He knew what she looked like in the mornings when her hair was disheveled and her breath was reeking last night’s dinner. She could be wearing his Manchester United jersey and not having to check her posture all the time and Jake still found her beautiful.
Even more important than their comfort and passion was that she could be honest with him. He never judged when she purged. He sat with her all through the nights when she couldn’t understand the world around her anymore. He kept away all the pins and scissors and knives, and cut her nails for her when they grow enough to be a danger. He was silent when she needed to think, gentle with his words when she needed answers. He was the pillar that she needed to hold on to, to lean on until the madness stopped spinning – and even more assuring was the fact that he was always going to be there for her.
Nothing in this world is certain enough to employ the word ‘always’. The long table at the corner of the restaurant was full, and Amanda’s cup was half empty. Her breathing was constricted, because perhaps if she was to sigh the tears would spill. She had to bite her lip and dig her nails into her palms, because perhaps if she was to relax she might just hold him and never let go. Her mouth was clammed shut and she never looked at him, because perhaps if she was to let her guard down she would revert back to old Amanda that Jake had worked so hard to take away from her.
It was the last supper. In eight hours Jake will be on a plane, to an institute where he will learn the ways of the world which will, hopefully, gain him a respectable career. Sure, nothing could be certain, but Jake believed in hope, and he had to make the decision he made because it was the only way he could earn enough to house and feed the woman who needed him: I’m taking you away from the madness, Mandy, I’m going to take you far away from the madness.