Checkmate - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Andrea was shocked when she received uncanny visitors during her Sunday afternoon.
"Tosca?" Andrea quickly wiped the sweat from her face and headed to the table where she placed her glasses. She didn't know she'll be having visitors while she was working out in her small apartment. "H-how have you been?"
"I'm not here for that, Andromeda." Tosca crossed her arms. "She's with me."
The pleasantries faded within her when Tosca's tone was still unfriendly. Andrea returned the glasses to her face, a small accessory that adds to her disguise along with the blue-dyed hair to cover up her once short luscious auburn hair.
She stared at the person behind the Italian woman and couldn't believe her eyes. "Professor Oakley!"
"Is that you, Andromeda?" she smiled as she wandered into the small apartment that was devoid of any bed and other soft furniture other than the small old couch. There was an old crow perched on his birdhouse. He began to crow when he saw them.
"Shh! Alcor!" Professor Andrea handed a treat to her pet. And stroke his feathers. "They are old friends, not intruders."
Toscascoffed, probably at the word 'friends'.
"You live like this?" Professor Oakleybantered. "I'm afraid this is also my influence."
"N-no! I love technology and civilization! I'm a millennial and a minimalist too!" Andrea insisted, fussing about. She didn't want to explain that her wage as a subject professor couldn't help her buy the necessities for a living.
When she gathered her bearings, her forehead creased, finding her old professor's words and disposition suspicious. It was uncanny for them to have a reunion after so many years of avoiding one another.
"You have something to tell me, Professor. And I'm sure it's not about poor living and hermit habits!"
"Indeed." Professor Oakley gave a wry smile.
"Now that we've all gathered," Tosca asked, crossing her arms. "Why don't you start talking, Professor?"
"You two might want to sit down for this."
That was how Andrea found herself crowd the couch with Tosca, she was utterly aware of the fact that the Italian woman was sitting as far as she can from her and it feels like she died a little inside. She averted her focus on their old mentor, who took the liberty to sit on one of the wooden chairs in front of them,
"I know it has come to your attention that among the Nine Muses, I'm the only one left alive who can still find an heir."
That was true, the rest of the Nine Muses all died before they can find a suitable heir, hence the reason why art started to decline since the fall of the Renaissance and the rise of Industrialization.
Andrea doesn't even know how old her old mentor was and she couldn't have been bothered to ask, reckoning it would be a sensitive topic for the old woman.
There was a long awkward pause that caused disarray of uncomfortable emotions through. Andrea noted that Professor Oakley was simply nervous.
"So, the reason I gathered us today was to talk about your protégés."
Tosca huffed. "I knew you would take notice of Althea. She's Lancaster and Bernadette's daughter. The talent runs thick through her veins." She placed her hand on her heart. "And it's my sole duty to prepare her for more until you could claim her as your own."
"Heartwarming, Tosca," Professor Oakley said her eyebrow in a fine arch. "I fear you might have gone deaf, but I'm reasonably certain that I said protégés with an 'S'."
As if on cue, the two women turned to look at Andrea and she unexpectedly found herself in the spotlight once more.
"Hana?" Andrea remembered the first time she brought Hana to the forest park. "Oh you must be mistaken; she's not my protégé, just someone I took under my wing because no one else wants to accommodate her needs."
"That is the very definition of protégé. She's still a protégé like you are once mine."
Andrea could hear the sneer from Tosca even if she tried her best not to stare at her old flame. "Professor Oakley, with all due respect, I brought Hana to that place not because I know you'll be there but because I want to help her become a better photographer."
"By the Nine Muses, I am aware," Professor Oakley said. "Thanks to you, I had a glimpse of her and Bernadette's daughter just an hour ago."
Andrea's jaw dropped. "You mean you—"
"Wait, what?" Tosca unfolded her legs and leaned closer to the older woman. "You mean to tell me, Althea's with Andromeda's little student?"
A smirk found its way on Professor Oakley's lips. "Oh? I thought you knew about their arrangement to serve as muses to one another."
"Althea didn't tell me that her muse is in Andromeda's wing!"
"Surely she shall in time; I sensed the poor Lancaster girl harbored the same feelings as you once did to Andromeda."
Andrea mentally facepalmed herself. Professor Oakley might be an artist but she's not an artist for reading signs.
"I told them everything. Except for Andromeda's secret, of course, it's not mine to spill."
"But why would you do that!" Toscasuddenly had an outburst she couldn't fathom. But as soon as she asked that, she knew the answer to her questions. "One of the next lucky future protégé of yours will be between two girls—AGAIN."
Professor Oakley nodded.
"You're sick." Tosca began to breathe heavily. "You're doing it all over again. Like what you did to me and Andromeda!"
"It was not my intention to pit you against each other. I don't have any ill intent on the girls as I did before. I admit what I had caused between you and Tosca was uncalled for. And I want you to know, this. I've made a mistake when I caused a rift between you and your lover; I wished it wouldn't happen to the next batch of girls soon."
Mosca stood up with a bolt of lightning speed and pointed a finger at the old woman, seething. "I swear, Professor. If you choose the wrong girl once again—you've committed another grave mistake! Art will die when you die!"
"How formal of you, Miss Esposito, to communicate what lies in the deepest dark of your heart." Professor Oakley kept her stately form; she was somehow a personification of calm. "I assure you, I will never choose the wrong girl by the end of the month."
Andrea shook to her bone. It was happening once again. She had a dream where they would come together in one place and things will finally be for the better. Nothing like this... this was worse than the ones that occurred in the past.
If looks could kill, Andrea knew Tosca would land a curse on the old woman, resulting in the latter's death. Instead of resulting in shouting and heated arguments as Toscausually does during their youth when it comes to disagreements, the Italian woman sauntered towards the exit.
"Tosca!" Andrea took ten full seconds to register Tosca was storming out. She speedily went after her before she got to the door. "Wait!"
The Italian woman spun on her heel. Her slicked-back hair was disheveled from the commotion, her eyelashes had wisps of tears. "Andromeda." Her face contorted to a certain emotion—sadness, Andrea was sure of that. It was devoid of pride and anger that frequently marred her face. It was a moment of weakness that made Andrea desire to wrap her arms around her old flame.
She still loved her. Andrea kept wishing to see a hint of love from Tosca's gorgeous face, but she wouldn't know if there still was love or even if a hug from her would be welcome.
But now that she got Tosca's attention. Andrearooted to the spot, rather speechless and feeling trapped as if the air she continued to breathe was thinning and her heart couldn't beat all the oxygen to her entire body. Her lips tried to form words but none would come out.
Tosca reached out a hand for her to shake, "May the best mentor win."
Ursula's jaw dropped. "What?" she muttered. Blinking a few times, she knew she didn't want it to be another competition again. Competition with Tosca never always went right. But she didn't have the strength to argue. So she reached for Tosca's hand and felt the blisters on her fingers from painting. "Umm... okay."
Tosca nodded, leaving the front door. "Goodbye again, Andromeda."
Andrea listened to the steps Toscatook as she walked away again. Triggered by all the emotions threatening to flood her once more, she started to sob.
"Don't cry, my dear." Professor Oakley said. "The reason you failed as an artist was because you lost your muse. Tosca became too jealous, she attempted to be supportive, but alas the greed and enviousness took her."
Andrea slowly turned around to face the old woman. "For the world and art's sake, Professor Oakley, don't make the same mistake twice."
"You need not worry about the girls, Andromeda. I have a foolproof plan that would help their bonds to become stronger before the Samhain Festival."
She wasn't sure why but she was slightly fretful of this so-called foolproof plan.
One the way home, Hana couldn't stop thinking about the blonde beauty. Althea kissed her cheek. It wasn't a dream or a hallucination. She definitely did.
Once Hana, Liezel, and Fallon got back to their dormitory that night, Hana was super excited to work on editing her photos before she could even select 10 to showcase in the Samhain Photography Exhibit.
She fished for her phone immediately and texted Althea, downright asking what the kiss meant.
Hana couldn't help it, ever since yesterday, every time she dozed off or work in the last couple of hours, she would see Althea—literally. How incredible she was in those clothes, those poses, and that makeup. Everything was her—the light, the dark, the day, the night. Althea. Althea.
Hana wanted to spend more time with her, wanted to snuggle under the covers, and feel Althea's arms around her. She wondered how it would feel to press her mouth against Althea's. If nothing more than to know what her lipstick tasted like.
It was like the British girl had taken possession of her soul. She was inside of her, consuming her, compelling her to—
"What?" Hana caught herself thinking stuff. "Ugh stop it! Drown it out. Fight the force. You can do it. You're strong. Resist. You can beat the forces of nature. You have to."
From her workspace, she could hear her roommates from the living room.
"Fallon, I think Hana's finally losing it."
"Shh, leave her alone to work."
"At least make her understand that her inner monologues should remain inner."
"Liezel!"
"I'm sorry!" Hana shouted from across the room. She repeatedly slapped her cheeks to snap her out of the thoughts she couldn't name.
Hana turned the wave of embarrassment out, wondering if she could ever be closer to Althea rather than acquaintances or the usual muse partnership they agreed on.
When minutes passed and Althea still hasn't texted back, Hana thought to herself, that maybe, Althea was busy. And she needed to balance the time she lost already when she helped with the Photoshoot.
When bedtime rolled for the three of them, Hana lay awake under the twin bed where she occupied. Fallon was above her sleeping soundly and Liezel was across the room, looking like a ghost in slumber.
Hana didn't know how long she stared at her phone screen or how many text messages she sent her. She wanted Althea's attention and maybe insistently texting and calling overnight was a strategy too forward.
"You've been sighing loudly for too many times, Hana." Liezel snarled. "It's really becoming annoying."
"Shh," Fallon said. "She's anxiously waiting for a reply."
Hana gulped, she didn't know they were still awake.
"Just face the truth that Althea's ignoring you!" Liezel said, grumbling to her blanket.
Hana's heart boiled. "Say what?"
Liezel's voice darkened. "The world doesn't revolve around you and some people are exhausted because of the workload the whole day, unlike you—"
"Liezel!" Fallon scolded. "Hana, I'm not saying Liezel's right in her way of delivery, but she kind of has a point. Please be considerate of us, we have to attend class at nine in the morning—and maybe Althea is too."
Hana didn't know what had gotten through Liezel's noggin for her to act super rude, but Fallon was right, she was being insecure and selfish. She stared at her phone's screen to look at the time. "Sorry," she muttered and clearly wouldn't believe what Liezel implied.
It was minutes after when Hana decided to send a text to Professor Ursula, asking for help.
The phone in Hana's hand beckoned her. It continued to do so that Hana finally decided to sleep outside the bedroom to the couch so her roommates wouldn't hear her turn and thrash about on her bed.
She opened her phone screen in the dark, with the only visible light coming from the device. She punched in the numbers she'd written in sticky notes, in notebooks, and on her laptop. A number she had learned to memorize by heart.
One ring, two rings—Althea didn't answer. Her stomach knotted so she hung up.
Hana's heart was breaking every bone in her rib cage. She wanted to talk to Althea so much it hurt. Stalled a little then punched redial. One ring, two rings—just as she was about to bail, then a loud knock could be heard from the door.
Hana jerked; the phone flew up into the air. She managed to catch it back due to her b reflex and walked towards the wooden door to reveal their late-night visitor.
"Professor Andrea!" she gasped.
"Hello! Pardon my late intrusion, but I came as soon as you sent me a troubling text." The French woman fixed her glasses, wearing a red tracksuit. "What's wrong, Hana?"