Colors of Love: Gen. 1.1

You ever feel like you’re suffocating? I do on a daily basis. But to the outside world I have the ideal life. 

That’s my father, Senator Van Milken. He’s a career politician like his father before him, and his father, so on and so forth. Government is in his blood. 

That’s my mother, Angel Milken, the perfect politician’s wife. Everything she does is to keep up appearances and keep our reputation as an upstanding family intact.

Then there’s me, Dove Milken. The prodigal and sadly only child of the Milken family.

It’s not that my parents didn’t want more children, two children make for the ideal family mother always said, but it wasn’t meant to be. My parents had me later in life so having a second wasn’t in the cards. I wish for a sibling though, it would take some of the pressure off me to be perfect. And maybe, just maybe have someone to talk to that would actually understand how I feel.

My entire life has been planned out. I’m enrolled in the top private school. My mother has to approve of my ‘friends’.  She’s picked out which extracurricular activities I must do. She’s even picked out who my ideal husband will be. All of it planned out by my mother’s design to help further my father’s career. What I want in life doesn’t fit into that plan so I keep quiet and smile for the cameras like the good daughter that I am.

The one activity that I am allowed to do that isn’t directed by my mother is painting. I was about eight when I discovered my love of creating art. We’d been visiting my paternal grandparents, they weren’t ever the warm and fuzzy type. My grandmother gave me pencil and paper to keep me busy while the adults talked then shooed me from the room. I sat in the kitchen while the cook prepared lunch and was content to stay there all day.

After that I’d asked my parent s for a small easel and paint set. Mother was against it, didn’t want me making messes, but Father for once stuck up for me and mother relented, but not without giving me strict rules. My ‘mess’ needed to be contained to one room of the house and one room only. I wasn’t allowed the free time to create unless all my other responsibilities were done first.

Painting is my peace. My solitude. The one time I have to be me.

Angel: Dove darling where are you?

Peace gone.

Dove: In here mother.

As soon as she walks in she looks over at the piece I’ve just completed. She makes a tsk noise but makes no comment. Never once has she complimented any of the pieces I’ve done. 

Angel: Who are you chatting with?

Dove: Yuki, she needed help with our English assignment.

Yuki was one of the two ‘friends’ I talked to the most. I wouldn’t say we were close, but we got along and hanging out with her and Candy provided me an escape so I took it.

Angel: Well you need to finish up and get changed.

Dove: For what? I’ve done all my activities for the day.

Angel: Dinner. You know that the Munch family has been invited to dinner. So go change and make yourself presentable.

Dove: Yes mother.

The Munch family. The family of my intended, Cotton Munch. Their family comes from old money as mother likes to say. They have been big contributors of my father’s campaigns and now it seems they want some sort of reward for their support. That reward being me. 

Cotton doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the family business. He wants to get into politics like my father. Dad has taken him under his wing leaving me to become my mother. 

His father, Gunner, has already turned his sights to Cotton’s younger brother to take over the company. Having Cotton in office would be good business so he’s on board. 

His mother, Minty, along with mine have already planned out our engagement party and wedding. We’ve not even graduated high school yet. We’ve been ‘dating’ since ninth grade so we can talk about how we were high school sweethearts when the time comes. It’s all about image.

In front of our families Cotton already knows how to play the game. He smiles, says the right things, he’s the ideal ‘boyfriend’. 

But when we’re alone…

Cotton: Your house has a gym correct?

Dove: Yes. Why?

Mother insisted on one but rarely uses it. She’d rather starve herself and use surgical methods to stay looking her best.

Cotton: Because you need to make sure you’re using it.

He stops to look down at my backside.

Cotton: If that thing gets any bigger you won’t be able to fit through the door. I refuse to have some fat, frumpy woman standing by my side.

I have so much to look forward to being married to him.

Update 2