The Jealousy Resurfaces: LYSANDER
What was this?
How did all of this happen and where was I when it took place? I was pacin’ the space in my bedroom with these questions and more runnin’ ’bout in my head.
What happened?!
Where was I when it happened?
This was too much.
Too much for a small woman like Nyssa.
How did she go ’bout it: makin’ me forgotten in the world of art and takin’ on my position by goin’ viral’? I sat on the bed, my breath shaky. What was goin’ on and how did it go on?
I shouldn’t have let her go.
I should also have known that she was a threat to me, which was why I did what I did.
Why didn’t she die or somethin’?
Why?!
I was on my feet and pacin’ the space once more, pickin’ up my phone and scrollin’ through it, awe on my countenance as I mopped at what had happened in the space of just two months since the day she moved out of my apartment.
I didn’t do a good job, obviously.
I should have added more heat to it that night so that her death would have been guaranteed. But no, I chose to be nothin’ but an idiot who had compassion on someone I shouldn’t be pityin’. Why?! My hand hit the table not so far from the bed and it broke into two. It wasn’t even enough so I hit the table where I spent many nights and thought of a piece to make.
Now I feel very much better.
“Yes.”
An idea came, suddenly.
This caused a smile to appear on my face. I heaved a sigh and fell on the bed. “Very much better.” I picked up my phone and realized how early it was to go live, at least, to destroy the reputation Nyssa built for herself a little. How can she be more famous than I am? I heaved a sigh, promisin’ to come back in an hour while I made somethin’ to eat in the meantime.
After makin’ my meal, it looked like this was the perfect time to go live and do what I believe would help keep my reputation in check and destroy that of Nyssa who was only a baby in the industry.
Maybe she wasn’t a baby in her past life: before the accident. But now, what was she if not a baby?
In haste, I snatched my towel from the wardrobe and hurried into the bathroom. In due time, I finished my bath, walked out, and took out some clothes from the wardrobe before wearin’ them. Lookin’ into the mirror, I confirmed that this was a good match to stay at home with, as well as speak to fans who may no longer be my fans. What have I done to myself? I should have killed that woman with a knife that night. But that would only make me an inmate in one of the prisons in the country which I wouldn’t want.
Maybe I should eat and speak with them.
Settin’ my tripod on the table with my phone in it, I set my camera and walked to the kitchen so that I could dish my food. When that was done, I walked back to the dinin’ area and took a seat. “Are you there, fans of Lysander?” Lookin’ into the camera so that my face could be seen, I asked. “A good evenin’ to you all, how are you doin’ this evenin’?”
There were not many people present in the livestream, which was unusual.
“What is goin’ on?”
I asked myself, not to the hearin’ of the few people who could see me on their screens.
“Why do we have a few people at this live stream today? What is goin’ on with all of you? Are you sayin’ you haven’t missed me?”
Same number of people.
In less than a few minutes, there were fewer people at the live stream. “What’s goin’ on? It’s me, Lysander. Did I do wrong by comin’ here so that we could interact one last time?”
Many people joined.
Just as I expected and I was happy, very happy to at least, have this number of people on the live stream.
“Yes! That’s what’s up, fans of Lysander. How are we doin’ this evenin’? What’s up with all of you?” I asked and got on my feet, walkin’ through the space as I paced the livin’ room.
“It’s nice to meet you again, Lysander.” A fan greeted me. “It’s been long and I don’t know you’re still alive. What’s up with you? Did you see the latest? The woman who has taken over you in the world of art. Did you see that at all?”
I didn’t want this.
Not in my life.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout.”
I smiled, even though I knew what it was ’bout and hurt at the same time.
“But whatever it is, I don’t know and I’m not mad that he or she is scalin’ through. But you should know by now that I am still kin’ in the world of art, and no one comes before me. Unless after me. Don’t you agree?”
“No, I don’t.” A man commented.
“I’ll have to leave thislivestreamm as soon as I can. The woman, Nyssa Draven is live as well and millions of people are watchin’ her speak to them. She has a way of speakin’ to her fans and not the way you do with us.” This man said and was gone from the stream, makin’ me angry and scared.
Why shouldn’t I be annoyed and scared?
I was annoyed that he would type that to me and the others who happened to be on the stream saw that, and scared for myself. Have I not lost so many fans of mine?
The live ended.
I was frustrated.
What could I do?
I heaved a sigh and moped at the screen of my phone, unsure of what to do. The meal that I dished was not touched but had also become cold.
I then recalled that a man from my live stream had talked ’bout the live stream happenin’ on Nyssa’s end. I picked up the phone I threw away a while ago and dropped it again, changin’ my mind and pickin’ it up once more, so that I could check the live stream with an account no one knew I had.
My mouth opened in awe when I caught sight of the number of views she had.
A sigh ran out of my mouth while controllin’ myself from throwin’ the phone on the floor or even the wall. My gaze returned to the screen of the phone and I moped at Nyssa who was seated on the couch in the luxury livin’ room.
“How dare you, Nyssa?” Hate written on my face, I asked and got on my feet, pacin’ the room with many more sighs runnin’ out of my mouth.
“It’s nice to be back for another session with you all,” Nyssa started. “I apologize if I kept you waitin’ for so long. How have things been goin’ on with all of you? My husband, Kazmir Draven sent his greetin’s and I would love to announce to you – or rather, show you a piece I discovered from the many collections.”
I had no choice but to look at the screen again. She took out a piece of art, well painted but old lookin’, showin’ it to us with a smile on her countenance. “What do you think? I can’t believe my grandmother was this good at makin’ such beautiful pieces.”
There was no way I would take this.
While I watched the screen some more, an idea popped up in my head and there came a smile on my countenance – finally, I get to strike.