G O L D E N

I'm okay.. Not really okay but I shall live on.. Live on...

-Walter2

He wasn't exactly happy with the situation he was in.

Actually, no one would be happy if they were ever in his condition... In his shoes which was quite unfavorable.

He worked in this certain household tending on almost everything so as to get a roof over his head and food for his stomach, which wasn't much but it at least kept him alive.

He wasn't a servant but a slave!.

They never paid him with actual money. They never took him to school and they never loved him, they weren't his parents anyway so why were they supposed to care for him?.

His needs meant nothing and he wore rags while their kids wore nice and expensive designer clothes... Reason? He was not worthy to be in new clothes.

He didn't go to school either but he stole the old books that the other kids didn't use anymore and tried to self teach himself.

For now, he had no big dreams apart from staying alive and striving hard to get out of his current condition... No big dreams.. He only wished for freedom... For love... For company and at least a little compassion.

He took all of these in and uttered no word at all. He had to live on. He was in no place allowed to complain or tell anyone of what took place in that house.

He had to survive and prove to them that he would be someone of importance someday but for now, he had more chores to do.

He walked out from the laundry room, the laundry basket in his hands. He had to take the clean clothes to their respective rooms and take the dirty ones down for washing.

There was always clothes in need of laundry... There was always something in that house in need of washing.

As depressing as it was, he at times thought that he deserved it. Perhaps this was a punishment for him... He didn't know who his real parents were let alone remember them, the harder he tried to remember their faces, the fader their images in his head faded away... So he stopped trying to remember.

All he remembered was that his parents died in the fire that disfigured his face and other parts of his body. He looked at his reflection on the mirror that was in the hallway before quickly looking away.

He hated the way he looked and he wished... Oh how he wished that he had died in that fire alongside his parents.

He looked so ugly and disfigured with his face all burnt up. No wonder they bought him no clothes, no wonder they didn't bother taking him to school let alone allow him to step out of the house.

"You are a disgrace and you're paying for the death of your parents. You're probably the cause of your parent's death". Mrs. Rubis the madam of the house had once told him.

As far as he was concerned, he was the only child his parents had and he didn't know any of his relatives... Not his aunts, uncles or even grandparents. He was all alone. Alone and filthy.

"Are you going to stand there all day? Ghost?". James asked pathetically as he stood on the topmost staircase looking down at him, his arms crossed against his chest.

James was the son of Mrs. Rubis. The first born and the most pampered... Or rather, the most spoilt. James never used his name, he always referred to him as "ghost". It hurt at first but not anymore.... It still hurt (though not that much) that his disfigured appearance was the cause behind James calling him "ghost" but what was he to do?.

He looked up at James and slowly shook his head.

"Use your words ghost". James spat disgustingly. He did nothing but look at him.

"Stop looking at me lest you disfigure me as well". James added. The boy looked down at the laundry basket he held, tears threatening to stream down his face. He tried to blink them away but he failed.

"You're such a weakling. I need my clothes." James said as he turned and left for his room.

"My name is Korna". He whispered to himself. "Not ghost".

•••••

"Hi". The little girl whispered as she looked down at her feet shyly. She had dark brown curly hair just like her mothers. Large brown bambi eyes and pink lips.

Yeah, yeah she was pretty. But no, she was Mrs. Rubis' daughter. The last born but not spoilt as the first. She was simply not Mrs. Rubis' favorite like the way James was. Nonetheless, that didn't change the fact that she had Mrs. Rubis' blood in her veins. She was her offspring and sooner or later, she could show the dark colors that her mother had showed him.

She was shorter than he was... She was just five and he was ten years... Of course she had to be shorter than he was.

He took in a deep breathe and tried to reply but his mouth and throat felt dry from the lack of water, so he closed it and just looked at her.

The little girl slowly looked up at him, wondering what was the reason behind his silence.

Korna sighed. What did this girl want?. It was late and he needed to rest for he had another day to start over again in the same chores, duties .. Insults .. Pain and tears.

"Hi. I.. I saw you didn't take any dinner". She said. "Oh my name is Riska". She introduced himself.

"I know your name". Korna piped in. Yes, he hadn't taken anything for dinner.. It wasn't new. He had been used to this kind of punishment whenever Mrs. Rubis was angry with him. He had no say and thus with an empty stomach he had to retire for his bed.

Riska gave a small smile and rocked a little from side to side before pulling a big red apple from her baggy dress pocket's and stretched out her hand towards him.

"Here, have this". Riska said waiting for Korna to take it.

He hesitated at first. Riska had never spoken to nor looked at him before, so what could be the reason behind her kind gesture this time around?.

Korna had to admit that he had never seen such a big and red apple before. Or it was just his eyes playing tricks on him because he was hungry? ... Truth be known, he needed that apple but still, he needed to know why Riska decided to help him.. Perhaps, the apple does fall far from it's tree after all.

"Just take it. You need it more than I do". Riska said with a shy smile as she took his hand and placed the apple there, right on time as his stomach growled, making his face squeeze in pain.

He knew he looked even more ugly like that but Riska just smiled at him.

"Why are you doing this?". He asked before she could leave.

Riska turned to face him, her little hand on the door knob. "I realised, being nice uses less energy than being mean". She replied in her small soft voice then turned the door knob and left.

"I realised, being nice uses less energy than being mean". He kept repeating her words in his mind over and over again.. She was right.

Moreover, she had never been mean to him before in any occasion. She was always the silent one.. Actually, never in his life had he seen such a silent person like her before.

Riska was not only small but fragile, she had a pure soul and at least, she never insulted nor ill treated him. She was the kindest person he had come across to so far.

He smiled a little, though the scars on his cheeks hurt a little, not completely healed nonetheless, this time, the smile came from his heart.

A genuine smile!.

"Korna!. It's best if you take the trash outside before you sleep". Mrs. Rubis shouted from upstairs causing his smile to drop off of his face suddenly.

Why did she have to ruin all his happy moments?.

Anyways, he had to do as told or else he would get punished again. Moreover, it was dark outside and no one would see him.

He bit on his apple, chewing it quickly as he walked to where the trash bin was.

Korna pulled it out towards the street where the main bin was, as he was emptying the bin, he felt as if someone was standing behind him, his heart beat fastened, his mind ran around all the thoughts that crossed of whom could be possibly standing behind him... He swallowed hard the remaining piece of apple that was in his mouth that hadn't been chewed properly.

It almost choked him as it went down his throat in a huge chunk.

His breathe came out short and fast as his heart beat fast and hard against his chest. He could almost hear it pounding in his ears.

"Lad. Alas! Calm down I won't harm you". A voice sounded behind him.

He slowly turned and looked at the person. It was just an old lady, the wrinkles on her face and hand were clearly visible and a heavy greyish shawl had been wrapped around her at the shoulders.

Korna quickly looked down not intending to risk and get insulted by the older lady standing in front of him because of the way he looked. He didn't want to disgust her with his looks, He had been used to Mrs. Rubis' criticism but not other people's opinion about him.

"Don't be shy. I bring great news to you". She said but still, Korna didn't look up though he wondered, what kind of great news did the old woman have for him?. From whom was this news from?.

Since when did someone have news for him?. He had never seen this woman before and he was so sure that the woman didn't know him either.

He was curious, but then again, he had to be cautious.

Winners don't quit and Quitters never win...!

He walked in through the large glass doors that the security man opened for him.

Most of the workers stopped and greeted him but he just ignored and passed them, heading towards his personal elevator and pressing the button that led to the topmost floor which was where his office was.

"Mr Alladiah the ladies supposed to audition for the modelling channel are already here". His Secretary, Shakira said as she tried to follow up with his long strides as he got out of the elevator heading straight for his office.

"Coffee in two minutes". He said as he entered his office and shutting the door behind him almost shutting it on Shakira's face. She wasn't sure if he had even heard her when she said about the new models or if his daily gloomy mood was on full mode.

Shakira quickly walked away towards the private kitchen that was for Mr. Alladiah and his personal assistant's use only to prepare his coffee.

•

"Magellan Korna Alladiah!". The older man said as he walked towards the large glass table that was in the centre of the room.

He coughed a little as he sat down while he set his cane aside and looked up at the man in front of him, seated behind the table on the large leather swivel chair.

It felt like it was yesterday when he had picked up the boy from the streets. His car had broken down, it was in the middle of the night and he had just arrived in the country from a business trip.

Moreover, it was raining heavily and thus finding someone who would repair his car wouldn't have been possible so he had tried to fix it himself. He heard a small sneeze from a distance, not sure of what he had heard, he proceeded in repairing his car until he heard another sneeze and another.

He flashed his flashlight towards the direction that he had heard the sneeze from until he saw the small figure curled up into a ball, shaking vigorously due to the cold and the rain water that was flowing past him thus drenching him wet.

All he had concluded that night was, he had no heir who would inherit him when his days in this earth came to an end, he had no family as well and the boy became his from that night, he had taken care of him and loved him as if he was his own. He had no wife nor kids but that had the best decision that he had made in his entire life.

Magellan looked up at him from his laptop, "I don't like the middle name".

"I know but it's still yours, right?". The older man questioned as he reached for the cup of coffee that was beside Magellan's laptop and sipped some of it before setting it back on the table.

Magellan ignored the action, besides, he hadn't even touched the coffee and he'd ask for more if he wanted to.

"Besides I'm the only person who knows it so I make use of it". He added. He was right.

He coughed again, touching his chest with one pain due to the pain he felt while the other covered his mouth.

"I should call your doctor". Magellan said trying to reach for his phone but the older man stopped him with his cane.

Causing Magellan to wince in pain but he didn't touch the affected hand.

"I'm not sick". The older man responded confidently. That was a lie and they both knew it.

"Father is that why you're not taking your medication?". Magellan asked with a brow raised up in question.

"I'm not sick. I just need vacation". The old man retorted.

"Fine I'll have your private jet prepared. You can go anywhere your heart desires". Magellan replied.

"We may not be related by blood but you sure do sound like me when I was your age. All domineering and such". The older man said as he coughed again then sipped some coffee from the cup afterwards.

Magellan looked at the man in front of him. If it weren't for the older man, Mr. Thomas Alladiah then he wouldn't have been where he was seated at the moment.

The older man had not only raised him up but given him a new identity and his family name, made him his heir and now it was his turn to take care of the older man in the best way he could by providing for the man whatever he needed.

Mr. Thomas had lung cancer, caused by all the smoking he did when he was younger. He still smoked when the craving was strong though he thought that Magellan was not aware of it. What he didn't know was that the younger man seated across him, knew of everything he did.

"Father I...". Mr. Thomas interrupted Magellan from speaking by raising his hand in the air a little.

"I came here to discuss serious matters with you". He began.

"Okay. What about it?". Magellan questioned.

"You thought I wouldn't know if you took actions in your own hands to avenge me?". Mr. Thomas asked.

Magellan's brows furrowed, he slammed his laptop shut and looked at the man seated in front of him.

"I told you the Richardsons took that part of my wealth years ago. You should have let them be but you went ahead and snatched all of their wealth?". Mr. Thomas said. "I really didn't mind it. Bygones are bygones but what have you done?".

"Do you mean that they stole your wealth?. Because I remember you teaching me that stealing is taking what doesn't belong to you and that's what they did. What I did was just a little pay back". Magellan replied.

"A little payback?". Mr. Thomas scoffed. "You took all of his wealth and registered it under my name Korna. That was a lot than what he took from me all those years ago".

"I know. Isn't it what he used to acquire even more wealth?. Let's just say that it's your wealth which has multiplied over the years and grown into assets worth of billions of money. We have done nothing wrong... I simply took back what was rightfully yours". Magellan answered, leaning back on his chair and looking relaxed as if he had done nothing wrong.

"No. You don't know whom you just messed up with Korna. Richardson is a very dangerous man and he'll surely get back at you". Mr. Thomas insisted, his throat tightening a little at the thought of loosing his son... His only heir and family.

He wasn't that surprised with the sly smile that formed on Magellan's lips. He should have known better, Magellan was iron headed when it came to such matters, no wonder his fashion business had risen drastically once Magellan had taken charge. It was always on the top and the profits had tripled.

"Go home Father and rest. You have nothing to worry about". Magellan said as he leaned forward, his elbows on the glass table looking straight into his Father's eyes.

"You aren't afraid one bit?". Mr. Thomas asked.

"No".

"What if Richardson takes his revenge through me?".

"Trust me, he won't do it!". Magellan exclaimed.

"You aren't afraid if I drop down dead the next minute shot by that man or by his goons?".

"He won't do that. It's me he'll be after not you". Magellan answered.

"You're so sure of yourself".

"I'm I not always like this?". Magellan questioned, tilting his head and looking at his Father in an almost intimidating way.

Mr. Thomas looked at his son. The lad had changed a lot... He wasn't that same hideous looking young boy, thanks to all those surgeries that were taken on him, he looked much better. One wouldn't even know that Magellan was once a victim of the fire that killed his parents.

He was a handsome young man. All tall, dark and handsome.. Dark long hair that was held back in a low ponytail and heavily masculine, Yellow skinned, smart... He had even modelled for the company's most expensive suit once which was enough to add to his list of fame.

He was surrounded by billions of money and easily managed other multi million companies. Money wasn't a problem. It had never been and would never be. Magellan could easily get what he wanted.

Not only were they wealthy but powerful in and out of the country.

Magellan's dominant ways were compelling and perhaps, Mr. Thomas had nothing to worry about. Truth be known, he worried more over Magellan than himself. He didn't want to loose his only family. He'd certainly do anything to protect his son.

Mr. Thomas sighed and nodded his head slowly. "I'll see you later then, son". He said as he stood up while supporting himself using his cane.

"Take care Father". Magellan said. Mr. Thomas stopped, not turning to face him he just went on his way.

"Your Father is right!". Andrew said as he immediately entered Magellan's office.

While Magellan took his phone and called the head of security to add more men around his Father for protection. He feared for his Father as well and he didn't want any harm to befall the old man.

"Were you eavesdropping on us again Drew?". Magellan asked as he placed his phone down.

Andrew was not only his P.A but best friend. They had gone to the same highschool and university and thus they grew closer by each day that passed by.

Andrew was lean and skinny, had long dark hair as well which he cared less about so it was always roaming messily and at times was on his face, he was Caucasian skinned and handsome too but not compared to Magellan. He and Magellan were of the same height as well.

"Come on I was just curious nothing else but he's right, I've heard people talk about Richardson, he's a hell of a fire!". Andrew exclaimed as he sat where Mr. Thomas had been seated previously.

Andrew was always the talkative one and very hyperactive. He was a complete opposite of Magellan but hey, opposites attract, don't they?.

"Tell those people that I'm the hell itself". Magellan replied as he leaned back on his chair and swinged a little from side to side.

"Oh I will do that but now...". Andrew trailed off.

"We go check out those new models". Magellan said as he stood up and walked towards the door, Andrew following him behind.

"I thought you weren't interested in that". Andrew muttered more to himself as they walked away to the one of the smaller fashion halls that they had where the auditions were taking place.

I will love you until the stars go out, and the tides no longer turn...

"Remind me why I allowed you to go to that interview again?". The older man asked.

He wasn't that old. His black hair had a few strikes of grey here and there as well as his beard. He was in his mid fifties but fit. He was a little taller than the girl looking at him with fondness in her eyes.

"Because this is a great opportunity for me plus it has always been my dream". The girl replied.

"Riska..." The man trailed off as the girl, Riska came forwards and embraced him.

"Come on Father. I'm not a little girl anymore. I can take care if myself so you have nothing to worry about". Riska said, trying to reassure her Father.

It was just her and her Father now. They only had each other and she understood the efforts her Father had put just to keep her safe.

He was a little overprotective at times but she didn't mind. She was overprotective over him as well if that explained why his Father hadn't remarried again after twenty good years.

"I know. I know Riska but still you should call me after the interview to tell me how it all went, also you should come back home straight after. I don't want you running around at night". Her Father, Mr Rubis said.

Riska gave out an audible sigh as she pulled back from the embrace and looked at her Father who looked back at her. His brows ceased up slightly with worry.

"Father. Come on". Riska tried to protest but her Father raised his hand to shush her. He wasn't having any of it.

"Good luck Riska. I'm sure you're going to pass this interview". He said, causing her lips to crack up in a smile.

"I'm pretty sure I'll pass the interview and get the job".

"You better get going before it gets late". Mr Rubis said as he kissed her forehead, careful not to mess with his daughter's make up.

"Thank you Father. See you later". Riska replied as she took her handbag and left the house.

Mr Rubis smiled to himself, silently praying that his daughter gets the job.

Riska's dream was to become a model for the best fashion house in the country and when the advert came in the papers that LA Mujer Fashion and Magazine house was in need of models for their new channel and products, she hadn't thought twice, she had applied for the job and now she was going for the interview.

Mr Rubis was aware that there would be a lot of girls there, all beautiful, more fashionable and classy than his daughter but he had a feeling that she would get the job.

They weren't that well off. So he wasn't capable of affording to buy designer clothes for her daughter but she understood.

She never complained and was always content with whatever he gave her.

Getting a job hadn't been easy. He was a manager of a local hotel which didn't pay him much. Riska always insisted in helping him with the bills around the house but he didn't want to.

So Riska never worked and that made her uncomfortable. That's why she jumped at this chance like a predator pouncing on it's prey without looking back and with no hesitation.

Mr Rubis wasn't sure of what he was afraid of. He actually didn't want his daughter to face the world. He knew the world was hostile and he didn't want Riska facing such hostility in her life.

At times he forgot she was now a young lady, a grown woman.

She was just twenty five years old and yet he had deprived her off her rights of facing the world.

At times, he thought of himself as a bad father but was he bad for looking out for his daughter?. He just didn't want her hurt in any way.

Perhaps this was the right time to let her fly by her own wings. A part of him wanted to let her have her own way while the other part was afraid of the outcome.

Riska worked online. Writing for several freelance companies so that she'd at least have some money for herself and to help her Father maintain the house. He didn't want her out working and that had been the only way she could earn money while at home.

The bus stopped where she and other passengers stood at the bus station. She quickly boarded and found an empty seat which was next to an older dark skinned woman. She looked to be in her mid thirties or forties, Riska wasn't sure.

She sat as the woman looked at her, giving out a small smile, she returned the smile before looking away.

Taking in deep breathes and trying to reassure herself internally that she would do it and get the job.

"Trying out for a new job?". The woman next to her asked.

Riska turned and looked at her.

The woman gave a slight chuckle, "You're nervous and by the way you're dressed, says it all, you're going to try for a new job". The woman explained.

"Oh. I didn't know I was that open to read". Riska replied more to herself than to the older woman seated beside her.

"I'm sure whatever job it is, you'll get it so you have nothing to worry about. By the way, I'm Mrs Abel".

"I'm Riska. Pleased to meet you". Riska answered as she stuck out her hand for a handshake which the older woman, Mrs Abel took in hers and shook briefly.

"Riska?". Mrs Abel asked. Riska nodded her head.

"Pleased to meet you too. You have such a unique name if I might add". Mrs Abel said.

Riska smiled wider, "Thank you".

The bus stopped causing her to look around. It was her que.

"I'm getting off here. It was nice meeting you Mrs Abel". Riska said as she shook hands again with the older woman.

"The pleasure has been shared". Replied Mrs Abel.

Riska nodded in accordance and stood up from her seat to leave.

"Riska!". Mrs Abel called after her causing her to turn and look at her. "Good luck".

Riska smiled and nodded in accordance before alighting the vehicle and watching it drive away.

She turned to face the skyscraper in front of her. This was LA Mujer Fashion house where her dreams were finally going to come true.

Riska was confident in herself and she wanted to do this not just for herself but for her Father as well.

Another smile crept on her lips as she imagined herself cat walking down with a beautiful and classy new designer clothes manufactured by the company's best designer, cameras clicking and taking pictures of her and people looking at her with awe, applauding at her graceful features.

'That would be so great'. She thought to herself as she walked towards the entrance of the building.

The glass doors were opened by the security man who stood there.

"Good morning". She greeted him and he nodded in accordance as she walked to where the reception was.

"Um, hello". Riska started, making the lady behind the reception desk look up at her.

She was yellow skinned, looked like her age mate, had short but not too short dark brown hair which was nicely and neatly combed back. She was dressed in a purple skirt suit which looked expensive. Actually she looked like a model.

"How may I help you?". She asked.

"I'm here for the modelling interview?". Riska said. She didn't mean it to cone out as a question.

The lady's perfectly arched shaped brow rose as her eyes raked over Riska, "Ohh. Here is the number tag. You'll go to the fouty ninth floor where the auditions are taking place".

Riska took the number tag from the lady in front of her muttering a small thank you and heading towards the elevator to go to where she had been told to go to.

The number tag held number three hundred and forty five. She had no idea that there would be a lot of people auditioning for the same job as she was.

Well, she knew that there would be other people but not as many as three hundred plus people!.

The elevator came and she went in as the doors closed, she tapped on the number of the floor she was going to before the elevator started to move again.

The elevator chimed as it came to a stop and opened it's doors for her to get out. She had reached the forty ninth floor and right now, all the confidence and courage she previously had, was all gone.

She suddenly felt like a little girl in a huge empty room. Her heart pounded fast and hard against her chest. She felt vulnerable and scared.

Looking around, there was no one in sight but she could hear a few people talking. It wasn't too late, she could turn, walk away and forget about ever being a model or she could walk ahead, embrace her fears and become the model she wanted to be.

Riska thought about her Father. He had hope and confidence in her. She couldn't let him down.

This was indeed going to be a long day for her.