Beast And The Beauty

                  

As a pleasant December morning made its way through the cool atmosphere of Texas, the streets slowly grew denser with people crowding near the groceries and the Church. Quite far from the heart of the bustle, a majestic mansion stood – isolated yet monumental – home to an honest, affable and popular businessman and his six handsome children. Three of them were sons and the rest daughters.

“You colossally pathetic piece of lowlife – how could you do this to me?! I’m your sister!”

“What’s the difference? You been ignoring him ever since you both started dating! Besides, you’ve got plenty of boys to play around with just like last summer. I love him and he loves me back! You were always the lousy third wheel!”

“Oh please! Shut that pie hole now, will ya? He’s my property, not yours. I was the one who won his heart with my Prada dress and my best pair of Jimmy Choo’s at prom, not you! Your fake Louis Vuitton gave it all away, sweetie.”

“You insolent little witch – I swear to Justin Beiber, I will kill you!” A huge puffy white pillow abruptly flew into the air and crash-landed on Ruby’s face, leaving behind a distorted expression smudged with vibrant make-up on the pillow. “You are so dead, Cheryl,” saying this, Ruby broke into a brutal war with her sister yet again. 

“What in Heaven, Hell, and Earth is wrong with you girls? Knock it off, you both!” And so the third sister, youngest of them all, barged into the room upon hearing the racket. It was almost her duty to break their fights off regularly and bring them back to their senses. After many unexpected jabs and upper-cuts, the poor pillows could finally catch a breath. Tufts of quill that were expelled from the pillows now floated in the air and lay scattered across the room, resembling a poultry farm struck by a hurricane. On the bright side, one of them finally committed to loving someone other than themselves. “Oh, look! If it isn't our very own petty version of Kendall Jenner? You’re not welcome here, pretty-face. Go stick your butt in someone else’s conversation. Get out!” Cheryl’s words stung her like knives but she shot back a look that hit them both like bullets.

Ever since she won the Prom Queen at high school, Cheryl and Ruby had been eternally jealous of her – hence, the bully. Belle (short for Isabelle) was the apple of their father’s eye. He often saw her as “better” than her sisters which only fuelled their anger and jealousy for Belle. Along with her father, everyone in the neighbourhood adored Isabelle for her attractive looks and “modest behaviour”. But you see there was a catch. She wasn’t the ideal princess that you came across in the well-known fairytales but more of an intriguing human with an insatiable hunger for knowledge, and less of a stereotypically idealistic princess in Fairyland.

“Perhaps, Cheryl, you too should stick your business with your own boyfriend – God knows when you have one. By the way, Ruby, your gentleman tried to break into Father’s room today and rob him. Father isn’t very proud of his heroic act at the moment. Let’s all pray he escapes from prison soon,” said Belle, calmly as she walked away leaving her sisters boiling over with rage.

Later that night, Belle and her brothers prepared their dinner. While the four of them worked hard roasting the meat to perfection, Cheryl and Ruby stayed glued to their phones in their rooms as usual. Ever since Cheryl learned to boil eggs, she refused to “waste time near the fire to spoil her skin any further”. Unlike her, Ruby didn’t enter the kitchen at all. She’d “rather survive on take-out food than cook something on her own and accidentally fry her manicure”.

“My dear children,” Father addressed everyone at the dinner table with a warm smile, “thank you so much for preparing this absolutely delicious feast tonight. But I have something to tell you all. It is not good news.” “Father, we know. He deserves to be imprisoned. I promise I won’t see him anymore from now on,” Ruby spoke softly and sincerely, contrary to the tone she often used with her sisters. “It’s not about that, dear Rue. We have much bigger concerns. Our business is suffering a very brutal economic crisis. What’s left now is very close to nothing. I’m afraid we might have to sell our luxuries in order to make both ends meet. There’s a small country house around twenty-three miles due East from here. We’ll have to move there."

Silence prevailed all around the dining hall for an eternally long moment. After the passage of the dramatically awkward silence, Cheryl looked at her father, “Father, don’t worry, I had several lovers around here who promised to even die for me, shall the need ever arise. Surely, they’ll help us now. I’ll talk to them immediately.” Father wore a mixed expression that would probably even beat Mona Lisa’s. “I’ll check on mine too,” Ruby said and both sisters left to negotiate with their former lovers/potential lifesavers. Isabelle couldn’t bother less about her exes. Instead, she silently devised a plan to prepare for the worst-case scenario, which she was sure of facing soon.

A month passed away since the billionaire-turned-nillionaire family moved into a new house. Ruby, Cheryl and their exes distinctly had one thing in common – very high self-esteem. Not surprisingly, they forsook them in their poverty, leaving them heartbroken yet again.

One day, their father set out to travel back to deal with some unfinished business and return the next week. Cheryl and Ruby were thrilled at this chance to go shopping and hit the spa. After all, how could they let something like poverty get in the way of their beauty, right? Their soft-hearted father couldn’t reject their pretty pouting faces and so, it was decided that both girls would leave with their father to venture out the next day. Belle and her brothers stayed behind to look after their home for the week. 

The next day after they left, Belle set out on a nice walk while her brothers stayed indoors hooked on the unresolved PUBG battle among them. Belle's reasons to stay behind were not only to look after the house but also to enjoy the bliss of temporarily getting rid of her sisters. She didn't necessarily hate them but only felt fed up of their regular ranting and bullying. Certainly, Belle could use a break. When she was younger, she didn't dare to talk back to her elder sisters. But with age, she learned how their abuse was wrong on so many levels, grew resilient to them and even developed the courage to fight back, not only with a louder voice but also with a better argument. It was a necessary development in order to thrive along with her sisters while they were all under the same roof. 

As the day bled into nightfall, Belle recalled her father repeatedly warning her to stay indoors or at least be in a pack if she were outdoors after sundown. Regardless, she continued on the isolated course under growling thunder clouds. Before she knew it, she was almost back home. Just as she entered the small garden of roses planted by herself and her father, her eyes immediately shifted to someone’s silhouette hovering over the rose bushes. “Hey! Don’t you dare steal our roses! Step away before I stab you!” Belle snapped. Suddenly two arms shot up in the air as if someone had pointed a gun at the silhouette, as it slowly stepped away from the roses. “Turn around!” The silhouette turned around in the same cinematic slo-mo that happens when two lovers reunite in a movie. It took the shape of a young man.

“Is he the one?” her heart whispered, beating like the rain. Just as Ed Sheeran started singing ‘Perfect’ in the background and a soft breeze blew through her hair… BANG BANG! A bright streak of lightning tore through the sky, blinding her vision for a second and roaring deafeningly. What followed was a yelp out of Belle’s mouth as she fell hard on the grass beneath. "Woah woah woah, hey... You alright?" A husky voice came over to her, as a pair of strong arms lifted her up. Just when Belle saw his face, she abruptly gasped in fear and disbelief. "Oh no, I didn't mean to scare you! I'm so sorry," the young man exclaimed, abruptly looking away from her in embarrassment. After an awkward moment of silence, both of them stood away from each other. 

"No, please don't be. I apologize for reacting that way. You didn't scare me; the thunder did," Belle said, avoiding his eyes nervously, "What were you doing here? Strangers are not allowed to touch our roses." 

"I know, I'm really sorry about that. They're so beautiful that I couldn't help it."

"Well, that is true but if my brothers were in my place, they wouldn't have waited to see you. Before you knew it, you would've been reduced to a pile of bones."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair, "That would've left you with a big mess to clean up then, wouldn't it?" 

Belle chuckled, starting to feel the initial discomfort fade away a little, "I'm Isabelle. You can call me Belle."

"Nice to meet you, Belle. I'm Adam and I've probably already screwed up my one chance to make a good first-impression. 

"Nice to meet you too, Adam, and don't worry, I think I did a much worse job."

Adam's kind smile broke into a soft laugh as he shook his head slightly, "Treacher Collins syndrome."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's a genetic disorder that most often affects the cheek bones, jaw, chin and ears. That's why my face looks so messed up," Adam said, smiling politely.

"I see..." Belle said softly, unable to find the right words.

"Some call me Beast and that's alri-"

"I'll call you Adam," Belle cut him off mid-sentence. Both smiled.

The week passed by. Belle's sisters and father finally returned. Belle and Adam occasionally went out on walks. They went along quite well. You know what they say - good taste in music is attractive, right? That was probably one of the spells that worked, apart from both of their unique charms. 

If you're thinking, "This is a goddamn fairytale so where's the fairy at?" I might as well tell you that there isn't one. Know why? Because they don't exist. In this world, you need to be your own superhero because everyone is busy saving themselves. Thank me later. 

Coming back from the detour, Belle and Adam started to like each other. Big surprise, right? The roots of their platonic love started to develop as time went by. There was no Ed Sheeran this time but just the usual urban noise pollution and car headlights as they walked down the cold, damp streets of Texas under the fog. 

One such night, they were taking an evening stroll in the nearby woods. Just when they decided to head home, all of a very sudden, Adam froze. He couldn't move or breathe. Confused, worried and panicking, Belle struggled to hold him up but he lost his balance and sat on the grass against a big tree, panting and staring into space. She called the ambulance immediately and he was taken to the nearest hospital which was, luckily, not too far. It looked like a panic attack but Belle feared for something much worse. 

Two hours passed by as she sat impatiently in the waiting room, her head cradled in her hands. It was completely unexpected. Maybe it was unexpected for her because they hadn't known each other for that long and it was the first time Belle saw something like that happen to Adam. Maybe it wasn't as unexpected for Adam. After what seemed an eternity, the doctor came over to Belle. 

"How is he? Is he okay? Is he awake?" Belle began showering the doctor with questions. "He's doing better but there might be a problem here," the doctor said, hesitantly.

"What?"

"His breathlessness was caused due to his condition, Treacher Collins syndrome. I'm afraid he will continue to experience this once in a while. It cannot be cured."

"Oh my God. Isn't there anything at all that can be done?"

"Some patients undergo reconstructive surgery to improve their facial appearance. But otherwise, there is no cure for this. I'm sorry."

"No, his appearance is perfectly fine the way it is. There is no need for him to undergo surgery just to put on a different face. I'd like to talk to him please."

The doctor led her to Adam. "Has this happened before?" Belle asked, breaking the hug. "Yes. It happens occasionally. But thank you for bringing me here, Belle. It was pretty serious this time," Adam said, smiling faintly. 

"They said there is no cure. But apparently, some people undergo surgery to improve their facial appearance. That sounds shallow, don't you think, Adam?"

"Depends. Some patients require the surgery because their disfigured face structure might be blocking air pathways. That's potentially fatal. Also, I know that there is no cure. Should I get the surgery though? I might end up looking like young Keanu Reeves, you know?" Adam said, chuckling at his own joke. Belle was genuinely worried. 

"I think that unless you need the surgery for freeing blocked airways, you shouldn't do it," Belle replied, with a serious expression.

"Really? Why not? I'm ugly enough to scare anyone anyway. It's not like I'm the cursed Beast who would turn into a handsome prince by magic. Although, looks like it might be a possible option here," Adam chuckled again.

"Adam, you don't need to change the way you look at all. You look perfect. Even if you want to wear Keanu Reeves' face, I won't let you. Please don't," Belle looked far into his eyes, making him realize that she meant it. Adam simply gazed at her silently for a few moments before finding his voice again. "Isabelle..." Adam said, gently holding her hand, "would you like to be my girlfriend?" Belle stared at him, shaking her head in disbelief and then swooped in to hug him tightly. "I'd love to," she whispered into his ear, "but no Keanu Reeves," she continued, chuckling with Adam. "Don't worry, I won't agree for the surgery," Adam smiled, breaking the hug. "I wish I could say something classy and inspirational, but that just wouldn't be our style," Belle said, in Reeves' voice and both broke into laughter.