S1 E3 “Pride”
Medusa groggily opens her eyes, someone is calling her. It’s 3:33 AM. The witching hour, minute and all. She wonders what this person could possibly be needing in the middle of the night? Her lover, Sweet Dee, is still blocked on her phone, the name comes up as private so it would only make sense that it was him. A ping of regret shocks her like a handshake gag. It could be an emergency since it’s so late. She doesn’t want to answer. And anyways, she is not the one he would call in case of an emergency. He is the one to call for emergencies. She knows why he’s calling. He’s sick. Sick missing her. He was probably dreaming about her and woke from the dream to the empty bed, or even worse, the girl he’s so desperately trying to replace her with. She can’t be the harmony in lips of an angel any more. She wants a man all to herself.
Great, now’s she’s got to thinking, she can’t fall back asleep. She looks down at her pudgy belly. The fact that she can grab herself by the fistfuls make her just a little more sad. What perfect mixture of a woman does it take to keep a man? What happened to her ingredients when she was being made? She exclaims to the emptiness, “Siri, play some music” She’s tempting her neighbor to approach her with complaints. See loves to see how far she can push men. Desperado by Rihanna blares over her apartment sound system. She wants to make love. She has a slew of men she could call, she can download bumble which is like window shopping for dick dolls. So many to choose from. All fucking bonkers. She misses Sweet Dee so desperately but she can’t be weak. This is a test for them both. She is thankful that her source is not a man. That she is sufficient. So that way she can know that if her feelings for him are because of HIM or the position he holds and what he represents. If she enjoys who he is or just a man playing a role in her life? Could another man easily stand in? Her thoughts go straight to him each time like an addict. Like her when there is chocolate anywhere in the house. It will consume her until she folds into desire.
She gets up and starts to pace. It’s a bit muggy out of her blankets. Skin starting to barely stick to her loose too big t shirt. That’s all she liked to sleep in. Oh, the wild dreams she would have when she slept without panties. She leans over to light her candle, her bare skin starting to dance in the light of it. She wonders to herself why anyone else can never witness her in these tiny glimpses of her being beautiful. Hair, wild from sleep, breasts and lips plump from rest, eyes like sapphire dancing in the flames. A true wonder. Her phone starts to ring again. She answers. It’s not Sweet Dee… It’s Torrean. There’s panic in his voice. She feels like her heart is going to explode.