Rosa’s Routine
CW: mention of sexual violence
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My parallel self is constant. I see this. She’s on a rigid path. Her name is Rosa.
She wakes up each day with little on her mind but moving to the next step of the day. I feel this from her. She puts her two feet to the floor and, almost mindlessly, she floats to the bathroom and enters the shower. Her naturally afro hair is chemically relaxed, and it's always been. When she emerges from the shower, she lotions her body and wears another variation of the beige two-piece she wears almost daily. Her nails are clipped, always painted nude, and she wears the same gold studs she's worn since she had her ears pierced. She feels neither excitement nor internal disarray. She simply is. She seems to know what to expect, and she always acts accordingly.
At the present moment, Rosa sits at her desk at work, watching the screen as she types. She is sending an email to a colleague — asking him for a meeting to discuss his performance. I sit in my own seat, staring into the mirror and rolling my eyes at what I see. I wonder what she's thinking. Is she fulfilled? That’s what I really want to know. I continue to watch her workday transpire, fighting to keep myself awake. At what is likely 5pm, Rosa rolls herself back in her desk chair and, without ceremony, takes her bag and leaves the office. Okay, I think, shifting forward in my own seat. Something exciting should happen after work. Rosa leaves the building and pulls out her phone. I stiffen slightly in anticipation. I hope she has a friend or a romantic partner who will bring something out of her beige personality that I can identify with. She presses a few buttons and puts the phone to her ear. After a moment, I see her lip curl upward. Was that a smile or a snarl? She hangs up without saying anything. For all I know, she could have just checked her bank account balance. I don't know when she ordered a car, but one pulls up and she steps into the backseat. I am on the actual edge of my seat in the horror of the build-up of this person's life. I have to pee so I go do that and come back, hoping I didn't miss too much.
Oh, good, she's still in the car. Her legs are crossed and she is staring straight in front of her, her hands folded in her lap. At this point, I'm starting to think she's a robot, she's so boring. Then she sneezes, rather wildly, and says "fuck" underneath her breath. Oh… There's something.
It might seem small, but Rosa never cursed. She never spoke on her way home at all. She preferred to save her voice for when she needed it, which was to work… and to play. She straightened herself out in the car and let out a terse breath. She was starting to feel a little agitated. The driver pulled up to her home and she stepped out, closed the door, and went inside with no words spoken. When she closed the front door behind her, Rosa stopped for a moment.
"Hello?" she asked into the open foyer. She lived alone, so no one should have been there, yet she couldn't help but feel like she wasn't alone. Receiving no response, she continued her evening routine, today skipping the call with her mom. She couldn't bear to look at her phone again after what she'd learned. The man she was falling in love with had canceled their evening plans for the 3rd time in a row. Rosa sat in her bathtub, feeling more relaxed with each deep breath she took. Even though she hadn't known Max for a long time, she felt like what they had was deep, or at least meaningful. He got to see the part of her she felt she could only show to him. She couldn’t imagine bringing other people beneath the layers of her personality.
Rosa enjoyed the simplicity of her life. It made her pleasures even more pleasurable when she didn't have to think about what to wear, or whether or not she was good at her job, or how to maintain all those tumultuous relationships she would hear her colleagues talking about as she worked. Rosa allowed her life to live itself so she could put her real energy into what she felt was her calling for the moment: being a dominatrix. After an hour and fifteen minutes, Rosa got out of the bath, showered, and dressed in her nightgown. She then sat in bed with her reading glasses at the edge of her nose, perusing the latest erotic novel in her collection. Her hair was wrapped tightly in a silk scarf and her room was still and silent.
"You know where to touch me. It always does the trick," she read and instantly thought of Max's big hand on her thigh. She breathed deeply and put the book down. He was stuck in her head. She walked downstairs to get her phone then came back upstairs and sat in her bed. "Fuck," she said, exasperated, noticing that she left the light on downstairs. She went downstairs again and turned off the light, wishing she had a lightswitch at the top of the staircase. On her way back up the stairs, Rosa stopped, feeling someone behind her. Without turning around, she walked up the stairs slowly, entered her room, closed the door behind her, and sat on her bed. She could still feel this person with her, but she didn't feel scared. Rosa cleared her throat.
"Who, or what, are you?"
Nothing.
Rosa put the thought out of her mind and sat back in bed, bringing her phone in front of her to call Max. As she was about to press the glowing, green button and put the phone to her ear, she received a text message.
See you tomorrow at 10am?
She'd made plans with Seritha, someone part of the kink circle she was in, and probably her only friend. Rosa smiled at her phone, remembering her date with Seritha. This was something she genuinely looked forward to. Her relationship with Seritha added color to her life.
I wouldn't miss it, Rosa replied, pressing send and suddenly feeling how full her bladder was.
Usually, at this point of the night, Rosa was fast asleep, unworried about the full bladder she would wait until morning to empty. But tonight had proven to be different, from the very moment Max had canceled their date. She wondered if she should even call him. What would she say? What did she even want from him? Sure, she felt like she was in love with him, but had she even really experienced love to know what it looked like when it showed itself? She slipped out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom, leaving her phone behind her.
I'm leaning on the backrest of my couch with my legs crossed, fully engrossed in this story. It's hard to remember that I'm watching my parallel self and not watching a movie. Aside from the quasi-irritating fact that I'm looking into a vertical mirror, this woman's life is more interesting than I thought. Questions fly around my mind, but I stop myself from trying to ascertain just how each part of her life parallels mine. That would probably take the fun out of this, I think to myself, uncrossing my legs and realizing that I need to pee once again. It's interesting the length of time liquid takes to descend to the bladder. It's always hard to put a finger on.
I walk to the bathroom and pee with the door open and the light off. I don't like washing my hands with the light off, so I switch it on then open the faucet and lather my palms with soap. I stick my hands into the creamy current of flowing water and look into the mirror to remind myself of my beauty. A foreign but familiar face stares back at me and I stumble backward, slipping on the unattached bathroom mat beneath my feet. I grab the edge of the sink and steady myself before I lean forward again and stare into the mirror, into this person's eyes. She's looking at me with the same expression I feel on my face: a what the fuck expression. Can she see me?
"Can you see me?" I ask her.
Nothing.
I relax and exhale, turning off the faucet and straightening the bathroom mat with my naked toes. "Uhm…" I hear, and look up, momentarily paralyzed. "Uhm," my parallel self says again and swallows. I feel saliva trickling down my throat and cough immediately.
"Can you see me?!" I nearly yell. I don't think this is supposed to happen. I took only one shot of that disgusting herb concoction the medicine man prescribed and slept for 5 hours just like he ordered. "You'll have a one-way experience with one of your parallel selves," he said. And I believed him. Now look at this. I'm talking to a self that is not myself in the mirror. So much for a one-way experience!
Rosa stared into the mirror, frozen in shock at seeing a woman with her same face, eyes, and skin — and apparently fear — staring back at her. She couldn't move but so desperately wanted to turn off the faucet that had been running for what seemed like hours. Her body was frozen, but her mind was running and her mouth was usable.
"Who are you?" she asked, feeling familiarly like the person she was talking to was the same person, or being, she'd been feeling in her home all evening. She couldn't say for sure, but the energy felt the same. This idea sunk more deeply into the walls of her mind and she began to feel more confident and less scared.
"Who are you?" Rosa asked her reflection again when she received nothing back.
"I'm…you?" the person on the other side of the mirror hesitated to respond.
Rosa felt life return to her body, spreading from her ankles up to her chest and she exhaled a deeper breath than she knew she'd been holding. She shut off the tap and felt the echo of the stainless steel faucet slamming against itself.
"I don't understand," Rosa said, drying her hands and fixing the scarf on her head, though she couldn't see what she was adjusting. "What's your name?" she asked her reflection, suddenly aware she wasn't really giving this person enough time to respond to her reactions. She took a deep breath and waited.
"I'm Lupe," said the person.
Rosa felt chills run up her spine. "God, your voice sounds just like mine."
Confused tears threatened to come out of her eyes. Once she heard Lupe's voice, she finally felt like she was talking to herself, just a different version. However, she didn't actually feel scared. Maybe the tears were just a response to her surprise. Seritha had told Rosa something like that could happen in unexpected moments, and Rosa had experienced her fair share of unexpected moments in the kink world. Rosa wondered if Lupe knew about her kink lifestyle. She wondered what exactly Lupe knew, if anything, because she knew nothing about Lupe.
"I think we can trust each other," Rosa found herself saying. She didn't think the phrase and knew it was Lupe who said it. Rosa had to steel herself so her knees wouldn't buckle. Was this person trying to become her?
"Did you just say that?" she asked, worry written all over her face.
"Yeah, I did," I say. I, too, am worried about what is happening. I didn't anticipate this; I only wanted to have a little fun on a Friday night. My friends are out drinking beer and talking shit and I decided to stay home and experiment with something a little different — something I could keep to myself. But now this other version of me is in on the experiment.
"What's your name?" I ask my reflection, starting to feel anxious. I never really stay in the bathroom this long aside from showering and now I feel like bacteria are starting to make a home on the surfaces of my precious body.
"Rosa," the person said.
I notice how put-together Rosa is. Her bathroom is freaking huge and modern and clean, and, looking over Rosa's shoulder, I see part of a dimly lit bedroom and what I think is a plush bed. Delicious. I want to be there and not here in my thousand-year-old crusty-ass apartment.
"Rosa," I say, looking into her eyes and feeling slightly more relaxed and friendly. "You’re really living, huh?"
I smile a small smile and the space between my eyebrows relaxes. Rosa looks around and behind her and bends over a little in laughter. I guess she needed that laugh as much as I did. I feel like I should tell her everything at this point. Man, if I knew this experiment would be so fun to share, maybe I would have invited one of my nonsense friends. So I tell Rosa about my desire to have a supernatural experience, and about how I found this medicine man through a sketchy-ass website and decided to go for it. I can actually feel Rosa as she's listening to me. It's like her worry is softening into intrigue and her intrigue is melting into understanding. Look at me being all poetic, I think to myself and wonder if Rosa can read or feel or sense my thoughts as well.
"I'm not gonna lie, Rose," I start up, a little surprised at how comfortable I feel with calling this woman by a nickname already. But she is me, so whatever, I think. "I thought you were dry as hell! Beige clothes, boring-ass job, dry personality." And suddenly I feel a trail of sourness zip through my chest and decide to quickly rectify that last comment.
"But, but, butttt… I soon learned that you are more interesting and dynamic than I gave you credit for." The sour feeling is gone and I see Rosa exhale and relax into her body, tilting her head to the side endearingly. "I want to know about Max," I venture. "What were you going to say on that call?"
Rosa looked over her shoulder at her phone lying face down on her bed. What was she planning to say?
"I don't know if I'm going to call him after all, Lupe."
Rosa was starting to feel more comfortable with this person — with herself — and felt a sense of relief sharing her confusion with Lupe. Tired of standing and being in the cold bathroom, she took her makeup mirror and brought it to the table in front of the couch in her dressing room. Rosa was sitting back on the couch with her legs tucked under her, talking to what seemed like both herself and a friend through a mirror. It was all quite weird, but she was happy to keep this experience to herself in the end. She told Lupe about how she got into the kink world and how she found passion in being a dominatrix; how she met Max and how she felt she had to hold back how soft she actually wanted to be with him whenever they played. Lupe listened and listened and Rosa could feel her care and connection as she went through what felt like a long and drawn-out story.
"Okay, finally done," she exhaled, throwing her head back onto the top of the couch. "I think I want to be with him, but I don't know what to do."
What a dilemma! I think to myself, feeling internally excited for Rosa.
"Maybe you should be honest with him, Rose," I offer. "At the very least, you'll have been clear about what you want and where you're at."
I can see and feel that Rosa is nervous, but part of her wants to go ahead with this honesty. I'm actually not sure if this is me wanting her to move forward or her wanting to take action, but before I know it she's hanging up her phone and telling me that Max is on his way over to her house. I try not to think too deeply about where the time between me giving my advice and her making her phone call went and instead focus my attention on Rosa. I can analyze this whole thing later.
"And how do you feel?" I'm lying on my bed on my left side with my hand propped under my jaw. I am really enjoying my Friday night after all, I think to myself, as some feelings of guilt leave my body and I relax my hip more into the mattress. I didn't know I felt guilty for staying in instead of joining my friends, but okay, fine.
Rosa tells me she's ready, albeit nervous, as she changes into something a bit more sexy, something a bit more silky. I'm taking notes. I always prefer comfort over sexiness, but she makes it look so easy. It looks like our bodies are the same, too. Athletic, petite, a little more weight in the midsection. I relax a bit more into my bed feeling unexpectedly empowered by seeing how comfortable Rosa seems with her body. "No panties, eh?" I call out as I see Rosa slide a pair of shorts over what I can see of her naked ass since she's in the corner of her room and mostly out of my line of sight.
Rosa blushed at Lupe's words. She wasn't used to having anyone watch her, let alone know if she was wearing panties or not. But she felt more comfortable with Lupe's support than cultivating the courage to talk to Max on her own. Her doorbell rang and she grabbed her robe from the back of the dressing room door, rushing out of her room. She stopped at the doorway and doubled back, stooping to face Lupe.
"Nothing to see here," she said before winking, and placed the mirror face down so Lupe’s view was effectively blacked out.
***
Max looked and smelled amazing and Rosa's worry instantly dissipated upon hugging him.
"How are you?" She felt the vibration and deep bass of his voice run from her neck down her spine. She couldn't answer him just yet. She wanted to remain just like that and pretend that they were frozen in time. He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. "You sounded a little strange on the phone, so I wanted to come check on you," he said, even though she hadn't answered him yet.
Rosa felt her hands begin to moisten, so she put them together and walked toward the living room.
"Right," she started to say, feeling more comfortable speaking without having to face this gorgeous man who had made her feel something she'd never really felt. "I wanted to tell you something."
She could feel Max's heat closely behind her as she stood in front of her favorite seat on the couch in the living room. Rosa only ever sat there on Saturday mornings with a jasmine tea and an erotic novel. Just tell him. She heard a soft voice in her head and felt certain it was Lupe. Rosa wondered how much Lupe could hear from upstairs, if she could hear anything at all. Or were the two just so in tune with each other now? Either way, Rosa felt that Lupe was right, so she turned to face Max and looked directly at his lips.
"I'm…" her voice trailed as she flitted her eyes to his eyes then quickly back down to his mouth. His lips were relaxed. Patient. Like he could wait all night for her to say what she needed to say. But he's not gonna to do that, girl. He's here because he felt like something was weird about your call. Just say what you need to say and see what happens. I gotchu, no matter the outcome.
I'm at my kitchen counter brewing some tea and listening intently to make out what's going on on Rosa's end. It sucks that I can’t see for myself, but I can't be mad at her for wanting her privacy now that she probably knows she didn't have any all day. I have no idea what the rules of engagement for this experiment are.
Like, sometimes I can see her, sometimes I can't. She can clearly hear my voice in her head but I don't think I can hear hers. But I can feel her feelings. Whatever, I think, and lean my back against the counter sipping my tea that is way too hot. Suddenly my chest constricts and heats up and I know Rosa just told Max she is in love with him. I know that feeling well. Wow, this is intense. I breathe deeply and try to listen into the almost-silent air to catch what might be happening. I hear the unmistakably wet sounds of lips coming together then separating, then feel my chest open and that heat turn into a comfortable warmth.
Oh, this is nice, I think to myself and drink more tea, now a little cooler than before. Rosa's comfortable warmth is spreading throughout my body and centers right at my groin and I know she is having some sort of sex. It feels soft and safe. If I was Rosa, I would be receptive with this feeling inside me. Hmm, is this what it feels like to be a dominatrix? I guess I wouldn't know. So I leave half of my tea on the counter and lay on my bed to enjoy a little bit of Rosa's pleasure. There are a few moments that I tense up, meaning Rosa tenses up, and I wonder what's caused her to feel unsafe. Those moments only last for a short while and we go back to feeling warm, safe, and comfortable. By the way I'm feeling after, maybe, 25 minutes, I know Rosa experienced a blooming orgasm. I'm jealous and confused at my jealousy because I experienced it, too. To what extent? I don't know, but man did that feel good.
Rosa closed her bedroom door behind her softly, still wanting to hold onto the sensations of her encounter with Max. When she was in her dressing room, she fixed herself on the couch and lifted her makeup mirror to face her. Lupe looked back at her with a smirk on her face.
"Well okay!" she said, leaning forward and placing her chin on her knuckles. Rosa could see that Lupe wanted to know more.
"Lupe, what do you already know?" Rosa asked, knowing that they shared some sort of connection and that Lupe must have known that she and Max had sex.
"I know y’all had some sort of sex because…" She stopped and closed her mouth.
"Because what?" Rosa responded, realizing how sleepy she was and how little care she had for dramatic effect.
"Because, girl, I felt it."
This shocked Rosa. She never signed up for this experiment, and even though she could hear some of Lupe's thoughts, or Lupe’s internal communication, or whatever, she didn't know they were this connected. It felt like an invasion into her very, very, private life.
"What the fuck, Lupe," she said, back to the feeling of exasperation. "Can you feel my annoyance, too?"
Lupe nodded slowly and Rosa could tell that Lupe didn't exactly know what was happening either. It wasn't like Lupe had planned all of this, Rosa reasoned with herself. She took a deep breath and sat back onto the couch.
"Maybe we should just call it a night — a fun, once-in-a-lifetime experience," Lupe said, breaking the silence.
At those words, Rosa felt a light sadness rush through her body. It was so fast, she couldn't immediately be sure it was sadness or the last of her daily energy leaving her body. After second thought, Rosa knew she was a little sad that she wouldn't have someone to talk to, to laugh with, to share these internal and emotional parts of herself with. So she decided to share one last thing. Thankfully for her, Lupe was still all ears and all care.
I feel like this woman is my sister. No. Closer than a sister, but not 100% me. It's weird.
I didn't think I would fully get the dominatrix thing, but when Rosa tells me about the sexual assault she experienced nearly a decade ago, my heart feels like it’s cracking into pieces. I hold my tears back and keep my lips shut and hands clamped together so I won't let anything out. This is Rosa's time. I entered her world without her permission. The least I can do is listen and hope to make this a safe place for her.
Rosa tells me about the deeper reason she became a dominatrix: control. She found safety in being dominant, a home for her anger and rage. So when she opened herself up to Max and let him please her, she instinctually wanted to protect herself. When Rosa tells me this, I realize why I felt her tense up when she and Max were together.
My heart softens for her even more, and by the end, I can't even hold myself together anymore. I'm a bawling, blubbering mess and Rosa is lying on her couch, looking like she is just about ready to fall asleep. I, too, am quite sleepy and get underneath my covers.
"Rose, have you told anyone your full story before?" I ask, feeling just how heavy my eyelids and my heart are.
"No, I haven't," Rosa replied.
She never realized how comfortable her couch was. She’d hardly sat on it for more than a few moments to put on or take off her shoes. She also never realized how comfortable she would feel sharing herself so openly with someone, even if that someone was somehow herself. That part still confused her, but that confusion was overshadowed by a creative mixture of sleepiness and surrender.
Rosa felt she had finally let go of something. She would analyze later, but for the moment, she let her limbs go limp along the couch as her eyes closed on the view of her dimly-lit, well-made bed.
"Night, Lupe." she said.
"Good night, Rose."
