Amber

Reimagined Cinderella in today's world

Dry cleaning picked up, check. Dresses purchased, check. Shoes and matching accessories, check and double check. Still to do: buff the floors and make sure dinner is prepped and ready to go by 7pm tonight per Madame J.

 

Amber ran over this mental checklist and hoped she didn’t forget anything. If she did, Madame J would basically skin her alive. One did not want to make Madame mad. This mental run-through was interrupted when a woman had short silver curly hair, dark complexion, and appeared to be in her fifties. Tears slowly rolled down the sides of her face and she held out keys in her hand, mouth ajar but quivering. Amber didn’t see the woman veer onto her path; she thought it was a clear shot but next thing Amber knew she juked to avoid crashing into this elderly woman who somehow wandered in out of nowhere. Where did this woman come from? The woman took advantage of the momentary pause to deliver a sob story, choking up occasionally as she held back tears, about how she was trying to get home but was stranded and no one was helping her and she didn’t have money for bus fare. The woman took two small steps toward Amber.

 

Snapping out of her daze, Amber tried to sidestep around the woman but the woman just mirrored her every move. Amber was tired. She had been out and about since early this morning and felt at the end of her rope. She still had to buff the floors and have dinner ready or else Madame J would blow a gasket. Amber wanted to just brush this woman off and her sob story. Beggars a plenty, why should Amber even care? However, something told Amber that she should hear this woman out; there was this tugging feeling she just couldn’t shake. So Amber lent a hand, metaphorically since she didn’t have an actual one to spare at the moment. The two of them backtracked to the transit station and Amber made sure the woman got on the correct bus with enough to get home. The woman couldn’t thank Amber enough. Ad nauseam Amber just kept repeating “Okay, okay, no problem, it’s fine.” The doors drew shut and the bus roared to life rumbling down the street. Amber lugged herself and all the bags she had with her back home, schlepping down the bustling and hilly urban streets.

 

Inside her building, Amber rested the Barneys bags and dry cleaned garments in order to shake out her arms and shoulders. Checking her phone, she noted the time, 3:00, before sliding it back into her back pocket. She had several texts from the Twins but didn’t feel like dealing with that nonsense right now. Scooping up her wares, she rode the next elevator up to the penthouse. Home.

 

Sadly, she wasn’t the only occupant of this place, but boy did she wish she was. Amber had the distinct pleasure (not really) of sharing residence with Madame J and the Twins, or as legal documents would outline, Amber’s stepmother and stepsisters. Placing the purchases in the rooms of their respective owners, she set out to buff the entryway. She popped in her earbuds and was soon grooving to Walk the Moon’s Shut Up and Dance. She threw that track on repeat. Two hours later she worked on dinner.

 

On the hour Mister Moneybags arrived at the front door. He wore a navy blue blazer and pants, white button down shirt, and shiny black dress shoes. Madame J, clothed in a sharp black suit that hugged her body just a tad close, welcomed him into their home and introduced him to her two daughters. Moneybags greeted each in turn and commented on how beautiful they looked this evening. They wore identical dresses, but one was ocean blue whilst the other sported a forest green version. Each thanked him for the lovely compliment. Madame J had told Amber to make herself scarce and get ready to serve dinner. Amber wore nothing of particular notoriety that night with her hair drawn back in a simple but tight bun. After exchanging formalities, Madame J motioned for everyone to make their way to the dining room for the evening’s meal.

 

During dinner, Moneybags mentioned that he was hosting a benefit gala next month since his son was returning from his latest space expedition. The money raised at that night’s auction would go towards programs aimed at increasing interest in the sciences for youths. He extended the invite to all of them joking to not forget their checkbooks. The Twins squeed. Immediately they began conversing about what outfits they needed, required shoes and accessories, and who would do their hair and who would NOT be doing makeup after last time’s debacle. Refilling everyone’s wine, Amber wanted to go to the gala after hearing the news. She didn’t put much effort in her day-to-day appearance, but this gala sounded like a fun excuse to get all nice and fancy. She had a month to put together an outfit, and knowing the Twins’ penchant for clearing out their closets to make space for new purchases, Amber figured  to raid their discards first before purchasing a dress. Shoes and accessories were easy enough to acquire. She could do this. The rest of the evening flew by without a hitch. As Moneybags gathered himself and gave his goodbyes, he echoed his sentiments that he looked forward to seeing them next month and to keep an eye out for the incoming invite that would have all the necessary details. A thin smile broke across Madame J’s face. She replied with an tinge of aloofness in her voice that she looked forward to it. The elevator doors rolled shut and Moneybags was gone.

 

Two days before Moneybags’ benefit, the Twins were frantic. While the Twins were catastrophizing the coming days, Amber appeared her usual indifferent self to all this party prepping, completing tasks and chores without complaint, but secretly inside she was brimming with excitement. Amber had managed in her spare time to comb through the bags which the Twins had marked for disposal or donation (they really didn’t care which because to them… it was synonymous) and found a black chiffon dress that shimmered in the light along the shoulder and neck. During her expeditions to pick up items for Madame J and the Twins, Amber would peruse the store selection and eventually she found heels, a slim black clutch, and silver earrings to match.

 

The night of the gala, Madame J and the Twins applied the finishing touches to their evening attire and called Amber to give her a few last minute things. That’s when they saw her. As Amber came bumbling out of her room clad in the black dress and fumbling to get one heel on and holding the other in her hand, Madame J and the Twins collectively gasped. The three all shared the thought that Amber could clean up well. But they also shared the sentiment that there was no way in hell she was going to this gala. Madame J flew off the handle and spewed out a tirade that was half expletives and half growling. Amber froze.

 

The next series of events were a blur but ended with Amber handcuffed to the pole in her bathroom. No longer was she in her sleek but sophisticated black dress. Instead she was clad in sweats and tossed a pair of mismatched socks because the bathroom floor was cold. “At least they had the decency to give me socks so I wouldn’t get cold feet,” Amber huffed.

Tears streamed down her face. Madame J and the Twins departed and she was left chained to the shower curtain pole. The “why” boggled Amber’s mind. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she sank her head into the crook of her elbow and tried to figure out who she must’ve pissed off in some past life to deserve this whacked out and extreme fate. Then Amber heard the sound of someone clear their throat.

 

Amber raised her head and turned towards the noise. What the hell… This is it… This is the end… raced through Amber’s mind over and over. Was it a thief in the night? Was it an ax murderer? Could she ask him to make it quick? Amber immediately recognized the figure at the doorway. The elderly woman she helped. Aghast, Amber uttered, “How did…”

 

“Bippity boppity boop,” spoke the elderly woman.

 

A bright flash, a gusty breeze, and some sparkly dust whirled through the small bathroom. No longer was Amber sporting baggy sweats and mismatched socks. Instead, Amber donned an elegant red dress with a long slit from waist down that exposed her right leg as Amber twirled. Looking down she no longer saw Flareon and Eevee staring back up at her but black Louboutins; she brushed her wrist where the cuffs had started cutting into her skin and felt not the handcuffs but a simple rose gold bracelet in its place. The elderly woman took Amber’s hand. Both of them rode the elevator down to where a limo awaited. The chauffeur opened the door and the elderly woman gracefully deposited Amber into the back seat. Trying to come up with a question, something, anything, all Amber was able to get out was “Who are you?”

 

The elderly woman replied, “No questions, kid. Just know someone’s always looking out for you even if you don’t know it. Be home by 2am. Nothing good happens after 2am.” The elderly woman shut the door, gave it a good smack to let the driver know to go, and Amber was off. To where, Amber did not quite know; however, she did have a hunch.

 

The limo slowed to a stop and the door opened. Amber gathered up the dress upon exit. Wow. That was all Amber thought for the three seconds she stood there to take everything in around her. People all dolled up for the night were milling about and when she came back to reality, Amber made her way in. She noticed people conversing at the auction area as well as while seated at the tables set up to one side of the dance floor. The dance floor… that was where she wanted to be.

 

On the dance floor, Amber never felt more alive. She moved and grooved to whatever tune they played; she danced with the people around her including this fine gentleman who seemed to always make his way back to her every time the dance called for a partner. On the taller side, Amber’s mysterious dance partner had tousled black hair and wore a white suit with a black vest over his turquoise dress shirt. He sported a matching tie. Amber appreciated his rhythm and enthusiasm and ability to go with whatever musical flow came on. Time raced by; she was having fun with this mysterious man that she didn’t notice that Moneybags called for everyone’s attention until she was one of the only ones still dancing.

 

Moneybags thanked everyone in attendance and after going over how much money was raised and what it would go toward, he introduced and encouraged applause for his son Monte who had just returned from space. A spotlight cast down on Amber’s mystery dance partner who raised his hand as a hello to everyone but also to block out the blinding light. Amber felt her eyes widen and she bolted for the door. Monte took off after her.

 

Amber was beside a taxi, forgoing the limo that brought her here, when Monte shouted, “Wait!”. One foot in the door and one foot out Amber held onto the top of the car door as she turned toward the sound of the noise. Removing her foot from the car to turn more fully, the Flareon sock had returned. Her right wrist clanked across the hood of the cab meaning the cuff was back too and she only knew this meant she no longer had on the elegant red dress but instead wore her no frills sweats. Monte didn’t even notice. He continued on to tell her that he had an awesome time tonight and that he wanted to marry her. Amber’s jaw dropped and eyes widened.

 

“What?!”, she exclaimed.

“I kid! I kid! It’sa joke! This isn’t 1697 or something… ha ha. But I did get your attention, now didn’t I?!” frantically replied Monte, a cheeky grin slyly breaking across his face.

“Okay… as long as you are joking… you are… right?”

“Uh… duh, of course! I may have spent the last few years in space… but I didn’t, like, forget how to be a 21^st century person.”

“That concept is debatable, the concept of a 21^st century person that is.”

“Fair enough. Anyhow, back to the subject at hand and now that we’ve broken the ice, where do we go from here?”

“Hmmmm…”, mumbled Amber. “Well since you don’t know anything about me and I don’t know anything about you, and you apparently still want to get to know me even after seeing ‘hobo me’, how about we get coffee tomorrow morning. Say 10 o’clock? There’s a café just down the block from here.”

“Sounds grand. It’s a date then.” replied Monte.

“A date? You don’t even know my name,” joshed Amber as she lightly punched his arm.

“A date as in an event to occur at a particular time and place. And also, regarding the name, care to share?” asked Monte.

“Amber.”

“Well, nice to meet you Amber. See you tomorrow and safe travels home.”

“You betcha. And likewise.”

 

Amber climbed into the cab, gave the driver the closest cross street, and waved good-bye to Monte as the driver pulled away. She caught a brief glimpse of Madame J and the Twins dumbstruck just outside the gala venue’s entrance. A sly smile broke across Amber’s lips as she turned back to face forward. Things were about get quite interesting.   

Author's Note

Response to the prompt- a retelling of a fairy tale