Glass Wings

As Caprina stepped out of rehearsal, she saw her mother patiently waiting by the car. Her driver was pulling her vehicle around to where Caprina was. A wave of frustration swept over Caprina as she signaled for her driver to stop briefly so she could find out what her mother needed.

"Mother, what do I owe the pleasure to?" Caprina asked, with a hint of irritation in her voice as she stood in front of her mother.

"Oh, Caprina, there's no need to worry about my visit. I just wanted to check in on my little girl. Just making sure you're making Mommy proud," her mother replied, gently pinching Caprina's cheeks.

Caprina took a step back as her long, curly brown hair swayed in the wind. A wave of discomfort flooded over her. She hated anyone touching her, especially her mother. Their relationship had always been tense. Since her father died when she was just eight, it’s been just the two of them facing life together. Still, her mother seemed more concerned with her desires and reputation, often ignoring her daughter's dreams and ambitions.

“I'm doing well, Mom. Thank you for coming to see me," Caprina said with a warm smile as she turned to head back toward her driver.

She told him to go home since she had decided to take the subway instead. As she adjusted her fuzzy brown jacket, she moved through the busy streets of New York, ignoring the flashing cameras and curious looks from passersby who recognized her from the numerous billboards and magazine covers scattered all over the city.

She found the nearest subway station and took the stairs down to it. She was greeted by a mix of smells: the metallic tang of rust, the musty scent of dampness, and faint traces of various travelers who had passed through before her. This was her first time riding the subway. It felt like an entirely new world to her. She was in awe of the scene rushing past as each person headed to their destination.

As she moved further inside, the sound of a violin playing a melody reached her ears. Her heels clicked against the stained tile as she turned the corner. Suddenly, her foot slipped in a puddle, causing her to lose her balance and fall, twisting her ankle. Wincing in pain, she looked up and saw a dark-skinned man standing in front of her with his hand reaching out. His hair was cut short, with tight curls that hugged his scalp, and he had crystal blue eyes. He was dressed in a simple outfit that matched his calm and collected demeanor.

"I'm okay," Caprina replied, feeling more embarrassed than hurt.

She leaned against the wall to steady herself. The young man took her hand and helped her to stand.

Caprina felt her face flush as she straightened her back. Her heart fluttered when they both locked eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then the young man spoke, his voice smooth and calm.

"Malik is my name," he said as he extended his hand to shake hers. She reached out her hand and offered a smile.

"I'm Caprina."

He gently took her hand, and his smile widened. He already knew who she was, but he didn't look at her the way people typically did—not as a fan or someone starstruck. He looked at her as if he truly saw her, not just the stage version but her genuine self.

Malik noticed Caprina struggling to stand as she limped while trying to rise to her feet. She winced in pain as she tried to take a step forward. Without hesitation, Malik quickly grabbed his violin, carefully placed it into its case, and slung the case over his shoulder. He hurried back to her side, eager to help. In just moments, Malik scooped her into his arms, making sure she wouldn't have to put any weight on her injured leg. Caprina looked at him in astonishment, her eyes wide with surprise.

As soon as they entered, he gently helped her into an empty seat before sitting right next to her. He made sure to sit close, his hand gripping the rail for support, but his focus was entirely on her rather than the people around them.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said softly.

“I know,” he replied. “But I want to.”

She observed him for a moment. He wasn’t trying to impress her or get something from her. He was simply a good person. Once they reached her stop, Malik knelt so Caprina could hop on his back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused, giggling.

Malik replied with a smile, saying, "I'm going to give you a piggyback ride so you don't have to walk."

"Are you serious?" Caprina asked, still giggling.

“Completely, now get on my back," he said, now laughing with her.

Caprina climbed onto his back but was surprised at how she could touch him and trust him. The buzz of people and cars surrounded them as they walked along the city pavements. As they approached her apartment building, she spotted the doorman standing at the entrance, and a warm smile lit up her face.

"Hi, Mr. Handsel!" Caprina called out, her voice bubbling with excitement.

She cherished her doorman, who treated her like a beloved daughter, always looking out for her and surprising her with little gifts that brightened her day. Mr. Handsel waved back warmly and extended his hand to Malik, welcoming him with a firm handshake as they introduced themselves.

Mailk carried her through the tall, spinning glass doors of her apartment building. The cool air of the lobby brushed against their skin. The floors were made of polished marble, and a massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, with glass teardrops suspended in a spiral like falling stars. Several windows lined the front wall, allowing the sunlight to shine through. The furniture was upholstered in burgundy velvet, and one sofa had a cream cashmere throw draped across its back. Gold poles stood tall throughout the lobby, and a glass sculpture of a bird in mid-flight rested on a pedestal in the corner.

The elevator door slid open as they stepped inside to go to her floor. A soft melody played in the background while they waited to arrive at their destination. When the elevator finally reached her floor, they exited and walked down the long hall to her apartment door. The hallways reflected the designs found in the lobby. Upon reaching her door, she fished the key out of her coat pocket and handed it to him. He inserted the key and pushed the door open. Inside, the living room was spacious, featuring floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the city. Her love for purple and gold was evident throughout the space. A deep plum velvet sectional couch sat prominently, adorned with gold-trimmed pillows on either side. A soft lavender fragrance filled the air, coming from a reed diffuser placed on the coffee table.

Golden floor lamps illuminated the apartment. The coffee table was brushed gold with a smoked glass top, stacked with fashion books, crystal coasters, and a delicate porcelain bowl filled with lavender and pink flowers. Her piano in the corner had a gold-capped bench, and an old photo of her father and her, when she was seven, sat on top of the piano so he could watch her play. Her dining room table sat beneath a chandelier of golden branches and tiny lights shaped like flower buds. A small herb garden grew by the kitchen window, where she sometimes made tea from her fresh lavender and mint.

Malik gently lowered her onto the soft, plush cushion and walked over to the window. The vibrant lights shimmered like stars as he admired the beauty of the city from this high vantage point. He set his case down on the polished floor as his eyes drifted to a framed photo resting on the piano. He picked up the photograph and studied the image carefully. It showed a moment frozen in time: a joyful young girl smiling brightly beside a man who wore a proud expression. Turning to Caprina, he held it out towards her.

“That's my father and me after one of my singing competitions," she said, her voice tinged with a bittersweet ache. "He died in a car accident the following year."

The weight of her words lingered in the air, revealing the deep sorrow beneath her smile. Mailk walked over with the photo and sat down beside her.

“He used to take me to the park every Sunday,” she said. “We'd feed the ducks. He taught me to dance in the kitchen. He is the reason I got into music.”

“I think he would be proud of what you have accomplished,” Mailk said, trying to comfort her.

“I hope he does,” she responded with tears in her eyes.

Caprina woke up to the smell of bacon sizzling. The morning light tried to peek through her lavender curtains, and the faint scent of lavender still lingered in the air. She blinked her eyes, letting them adjust to the light. For once, there was no alarm buzzing and no urgent calls from her manager. Her bedroom was her sanctuary, with lavender bedding, a gold headboard, and a matching bed frame. A black canopy draped over the bed, and an ivy plant decorated the corner near her vanity. A tall orchid bloomed on the nightstand beside a framed photo of her as a little girl, sitting on her father’s back with her arms wrapped around his neck.

She sat up slowly and reached for the silk robe hanging in the corner of her bed. Her ankle was still sore, but it was manageable enough for her to walk on. She wrapped the robe around her body, as she was only wearing her black lingerie. Standing up, she winced slightly but kept walking toward her bedroom door. Her feet made no sound on the plush rug as she opened the door slightly and peered out into the apartment.

Mailk stood in her kitchen, wearing the same shirt and dark jeans, barefoot and humming softly to himself as he stirred something on the stove. He was the first thing in this apartment that had ever felt real to her. She couldn't help but watch him intently.

Caprina stepped out of the bedroom, her voice gentle. "Good morning. It smells good in here."

Mailk turned and smiled at her. "I wanted to make you a nice breakfast because you deserve it."

He poured her a cup of ginger tea and held it out to her. She took the cup and walked over to the bar to sit on one of the stools. As she sipped her tea, she kept watching him in awe. Out of all the guys she had dated, he was the first man to cook for her.

Mailk flipped the egg on the stove while Caprina sat on one of her gold stools at the bar. Once he finished cooking, he plated her food and slid it in front of her. On her plate were scrambled eggs, waffles, and a small bowl of fruit.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him. Mailk dished up his plate and then stood in front of her while he ate. Caprina began to enjoy her meal, savoring the flavors.

“So, do Broadway stars eat breakfast like this?” Mailk asked, breaking the silence.

“Not really; we're always too busy even to sit down and breathe,” she replied.

“You need a vacation,” Mailk said, laughing.

"Tell me your story," Caprina said as she took a bite of her eggs.

He looked at her for a moment and smiled, "Maybe one day."

"Maybe one day?" she asked.

He kept eating his breakfast, smiling at her. After they finished eating, Caprina got dressed and called her driver to take them both to her rehearsal.

Caprina's sleek black car pulled up to the curb of the building. As the driver stopped, he stepped out and opened the door for Caprina. Mailk stepped out of his car and walked around to meet her. Caprina waved off her driver and walked alongside Mailk up the tall steps into the building. Inside, a man escorted Mailk to a room where he could pick out some brand-new clothes. Moments later, a luxury SUV arrived at the curb. The driver quickly got out and opened the door for a tall woman dressed in designer clothes. It was Caprina's mother. She had long, curly brown hair like Caprina’s and an olive complexion.

As the driver helped her out of the car, her heels clicked against the pavement like punctuation marks. She scanned the building before climbing the same steps her daughter had just ascended. Caprina was already in her dressing room with Malik, getting ready for another night of rehearsals. Caprina's mother walked to her dressing room door and knocked. "Just a moment," Caprina called from inside. A few moments later, Malik opened the door and saw a woman standing there who looked just like Caprina. Confused, Caprina's mother looked at him, wondering why he was in her daughter's dressing room.

Caprina looked in the mirror just as her mother walked through the door. She huffed and set down her makeup brush, standing up to face her with frustration etched on her face.

"What do you want, Mother?" Caprina asked.

"Caprina, don't act like this. I just came to watch my daughter practice," her mother replied. Caprina's mother turned and looked at Malik.

"And who are you?" she asked in a judgmental tone.

"That's my friend, Mom. There's no need for your judging voice. I wanted him to watch me practice," Caprina shot back.

"Well, I'll be in a seat waiting to watch you," her mother said as she turned to leave the room.

"Okay, Mom," Caprina replied, shutting the door behind her.

"Well, that's my mother," Caprina said as she walked back to the vanity to finish getting ready.

"She shows up when I least expect it. She never comes to support me; she wants to make sure I'm under control."

Malik gave her a sad look, understanding all too well what it felt like to have parents who didn't love him.

A few weeks later, Caprina stood by her bedroom window, gazing out at the city with her hand gently resting on her stomach. She had taken a pregnancy test the night before and hadn’t told anyone — not her manager, nor Malik. She wanted to wait until after the show, until the spotlight dimmed and it was just the two of them, alone in a quiet room with soft music and no pressure. She had put on her beautiful dress for the show and was waiting for the driver while Malik finished getting ready. They had both made their relationship official.

As her car stopped, they saw what looked like millions of people gathered at the entrance, shouting her name. A red carpet stretched out before her, lined with gold rails to keep fans back. Bodyguards stood ready to step in at a moment's notice, prepared to shield her from anyone who got too close. The scene was filled with screams and the constant clicking of cameras. Inside the backseat, Caprina straightened her gown's hem and exhaled slowly. She hadn’t shared her news yet; the words were caught in her throat: I’m pregnant. Still, she wanted the moment to be perfect. She had planned to announce the news after the curtain fell, when it would just be the two of them.

Mailk reached for his door handle and stepped out onto the street. As he moved to the other side of the car to open Caprina's door for her, she felt her heart flutter at the sight of him approaching. Suddenly, the screech of tires pierced the air, followed by a woman's terrified scream. Just as Caprina opened her door, she saw Mailk lying motionless on the ground in a pool of blood. She stumbled away from the car.

"Mailk!" she yelled, her voice cracking with distress.

Rushing to his side, she checked for a pulse, but it was faint. Looking up, she frantically called for help, shouting for someone to call 9-1-1. At that moment, Mailk opened his eyes slightly. Caprina gazed down at him, tears streaming down her face.

"Mailk, stay with me, please. We’re getting you help! I need you to hold on for me, please," she pleaded, gently rocking his still body.

Suddenly, Caprina heard the distant wail of sirens. Malik whispered that he loved her, then closed his eyes and took his last breath. Caprina cried out loudly as she rocked him.

The city kept buzzing with activity; taxis honked, streetlights flickered, and people went about as if time never paused for them. But for Caprina, everything had turned eerily silent. Her apartment, once full of warmth and life, now echoed with memories of him. She found a box with a ring in his pocket, which now sat on her living room table. She stared at it, sipping liquor and crying. She knew she shouldn’t be drinking, especially since she was still pregnant. The thought of him not being there to meet their child made her cry even more.

Suddenly, she saw an envelope on the living room table. She picked it up and opened it. Inside was a letter written to her by Malik.

Caprina,

If you're reading this, you have always helped me appreciate quiet moments. You made me feel seen in a world that usually passes me by. You gave me more than love; you gave me dignity. So, if I'm not beside you when you read this, I want you to know that I would have spent forever loving you if I could. And I hope you keep singing, even when it hurts. Love, Malik