In all his thirty-three years, Jayde has never realized the importance of a hair cut.
‘I want to cut my hair short, please,’ is what he said to the stylist.
The stylist had expressed bewilderment.
‘Mr. Keats, that’s not your usual -?’
‘Forget the usual. I want it short and neat’. Jayde says curtly as he looks straight into the mirror. He is a self-declared sorry sight: heavy eye bags, cracked lips and a white face.
The stylist grunts her consent. Rule no. 2 of customer service: Do not argue with the customer. Rule no. 1 of Customer Service: Never ever argue with your most important customer who walks into your shop looking like he is experiencing the worst of all bad days.
‘You are not one of the things I need. I am leaving.’
‘But why?’ He held out his hands in distress.
‘I thought you love me?’
What a stupid question!! He still can’t tell after all these years?!
‘This is too oppressive for me. I don’t love you anymore and I hate Aaron. Don’t ask why. I am getting out of here and away.’ To Jayde, that sounded perfectly cruel. To River, it was a half- truth. The truth? He lost to the itch of the male flesh.
Havel’s spies caught him with another sim yesterday and Havel had demanded (commanded was more like it) River ‘get the hell out of Strangetown immediately without delay’. Between money and life, River simply decided that the latter was more important.
He hated Aaron and he doesn’t love him? He lost the will to resist after hearing that.
Jayde hid his face in his hands as River threw his too many pieces of luggage into his car.
Before he left, he had signaled the still hopeful Jayde close and in a spiteful little voice, whispered one last time into Jayde’s ears. He was deeply satisfied when he saw the changing expressions on his now ex-husband’s face. Hope, confusion, indignation, anger and betrayal: he read all these on his Jayde’s handsome face. The seeds of discord have been successfully sowed.
It is a pyrrhic victory to River, by all means but a victory is a victory. Let Havel Keats remember that! He grinned as he drove off into the dark night.
Let this family fall apart, let them kill each other. He doesn’t care.
‘Mr. Keats, it’s done.’
Jayde looks into the mirror and is surprised with his new look.
Freedom long overdue. He hates those lousy spilt- ends and now they are split from his life just like him.
As he walks out into the busy street, he ponders over That Issue once again. As the cars blazes by him and he spots intimate couples hand in hand window- shopping across the street from him, he looks down at his own middle finger and glares at that now hateful gold band which encumbers his finger still. In a rare fit of rage, he rips the ring off, ignoring the sharp pain his freed finger screams and flings the ring into the distance. He watches it rolls…rolls and disappears into a gutter.
Gone…forever, his final severance with that …cheat.
The only thing left is confrontation.
It could have been easier if Trisha Keats hasn’t died lately. The poor preggie girl died of starvation while posing as a model for her first portrait. Johan had failed to save Trisha after the Grim Reaper deemed his brother’s love as ‘woefully insufficient’ to resurrect her [apparently the Grim Reaper increased his standards unrealistically after witnessing how much Ethel loved his wife.
So Johan lost his wife and unborn child.
But Jayde does not want to care about Johan’s circumstances now. He has his own to think of.