Daniel pried open his eyes, blinking to adjust them to the brightness of the room. He rolled in his tawny sheets, and yawned. He rubbed his sleepy red eyes with the tip of his hands. Slowly, he stood. The morning sun seeped out the dark curtains, giving a rabbit looking shade on the ceramic tiles. The battery powered lamp on the night stand twitched from lack of power and finally it blinked the final time. Daniel stripped out of his nightie throwing them with little to no care on his bed, leaving him bare in his birthday suit. He strode towards a door at the corner and rested his hands on its metallic handle. He turned it.

Daniel stared at himself through the steamy mirror by the sink over the sound of the running water that poured from the tap. His face dripped from liquid he had used to clear off the sleep from his eyes. His lips were pink and slightly chapped at the corners, his cheek bone protruded from each side giving him a more mannish look. But the thing was, Daniel wasn't evaluating himself. In fact, he cared nothing about himself nor the wee noises he heard from down the stairs. Nothing mattered to him, nothing except the dream he had.

Daniel had seen her again. He didn't know what she was, who she was or why he had dreams about her the moment he closed his eyes for the night. The greenish skin she had, glossy and bright like the stars and her hair, dark like the midnight – she made his internal organs churn especially when he knew her heart was not his.

It had been several years since he started seeing her, watching her take every step, make every move and he had written about her all in his current books. 'ZYCA' that's what he called it. That was her name.

"Zyca," he whispered.

Something in him burned the first time he saw her, the charming beauty and he wanted to write about her and her world or maybe it was just to console himself for not having her in his arms.

"The world of genies," he said. It was something different, something he had never seen, only watched on television programs.

Daniel smeared the mirror with his hands leaving behind a groggy surface as he walked to the bath tub to take his morning shower.

****

Daniel climbed down the staircase, buttoning the neck of his shirt, and into the kitchen with a curve.

Sarah, a woman reeking of elegance and sophistication sat on a chair by the table at the center of the room. Her eyes crinkled by the corners when she spotted Daniel enter, walking to the cupboards.

Daniel had seen her but pretended not to. He thought it would be preferable not to acknowledge the woman who had become the mother he knew.

He had his reasons.

"Are we down to ignoring each other now?" Sarah asked with a hand to her chin.

"Yup," he said turning the other way. "I have no obligation to speak to you whatsoever." Daniel added taking out a packet of Munch cereal and placing it on the counter.

"What you're telling me is that you won't even acknowledge your own mother!" Sarah said smugly, clanking her fingers on the table.

"Exactly," he said moving to the kitchen sink and took a bowl from the rack of many dishes.

"I told you I was sorry." she apologized standing to her feet. "Can't you forgive me?"

Daniel preferred to ignore what had happened the previous night. Sarah had misled him into one of the many blind dates she wanted him to attend. She had called him on the telephone choking in tears.

"I'm dying Danny - Cancer," were the words she spoke followed by her yapping about having one last dinner at his upscale home. He had his suspicions at first for the woman was as healthy as pregnant goat ready to give birth to her kid but later he thought- she wouldn't lie about such a thing and that thought sent sharp pins into his brain. But he was wrong, she did lie. A woman, adorned with a mixture of fruity perfumes stood on his porch that night with a casket of wine.

"How did you even get in here?" he asked.

"The door of course," Sarah said, leaning on her rear end.

"I never knew I had a door," he stated sarcastically.

"Don't get sassy with me boy," she huffed, then clicked her tongue in-between her teeth. Sarah, grabbed her bag from the chair, searched and raised a small object, black and bent.

Daniel knew what it was – a hairpin. He sighed with a shake of his head. "C'mon just one last time. The shaman said the hair pin will bring you luck with women," she pleaded.

He massaged his fore head with a fist as it creased from the stress his step mother was giving him. He blamed himself for everything she did, every action she took. If it wasn't for that one time he drank, a little too much for his liking – something he wished he never did – she would have never butted into his affairs.

If only he didn't drink his father's darned scotch.

"So, tell me." he inclined his head toward her after she laid the hairpin on the table. "What is your excuse this time? It's like 7 in the morning."

"Well...As you know, you are my favorite step son whom I care about very much," Sarah started with a smile that stretched only on one side of her face, raising her cheek to her eye. She looked disfigured he thought.

"I'm your only step son," Daniel grumbled, taking a spoon.

"W-well, you see, your father and I talked last night and we decided that..." she started nervously wavering on her words.

Daniel glowered and inched an eye brow up to his hairline as he poured the cereal into his bowl but he was careful not to pour it all.

Sarah gulped and added quickly before Daniel could call out on her. "You won't regret it son – she's the daughter of one of the women in my club – she's beautiful and kind..."

"No more blind dates Mother."

"C'mon just this once. I promise you won't regret..."

"NO!" he exclaimed leaving no room for objections.

What he hadn't expected was for her to wail, loudly like a motherless seal. Her mouth opened up widely, her head protruded at the center and her eyes seeped out liquid at the corners running down her face in straight lines.

"I don't want you to die lonely," she cried, her words entangled with her tears. "I want to see you happy. Why won't you let me do this for you? You cried for help, let me help you."

A brief flicker sparked in Daniel's eyes when he watched her. He rounded the table and wrapped his hands around her, patting her back softly.

"I know." Daniel knew she loved him – a lot. Ever since his father married her after his mother's death, she had cared for him like her very own child after she lost hers. He was lucky to have her as a mother but he couldn't bring himself to love another woman. Not after Julia. The only woman he ever loved – the only woman that ever hurt him, kissed him. She was his first love. He wasn't in love with her anymore.

Julia had met an unfortunate ending, a car crash and so did her lover. Smeared in red liquid was how they were found, entangled in the arms of another man, who wore the same type of clothing she sported. They were going on a vacation, - a vacation he had paid for to spend time with her on their wedding anniversary.

Julia had told him she couldn't go, she had things to do, clients to meet, deals to make, all lies she sprouted from her rosy lips which tasted like sweet cherry every time they kissed.

"Don't you see why your books aren't selling anymore?" She sniffed. "You refuse to let yourself love and it's reflecting in what you write. No romance."

"I do write romance."

"But not the way you used to – You write teen Danny, teen romance with no atom of romance."

Daniel knew she was right. His books sold better when he floated on the cloud of love describing every feeling his character felt, every action they took on their watery bed.

"And what's the recent one called, Diya? Raya? Myla?"

"Zyca," he corrected her.

"Yes that. No actual romance!" She crocked pulling away from his hands. "Give up on that book Danny. It's destroying you." She looked at him with teary eyes.

It wasn't a lie though. The book was going to destroy him, kill him in fact. Many said it was because of his depressions he wrote a book that wasn't in his genre. But they were wrong, he had written it way before production, before Julia's death. And no one knew he wrote it because of his dreams - however it seemed Sarah had a tint feeling about it all. But how? He never told her.

Daniel had lost a good number of fans, money and fame. His first and second volume of Zyca (Zyca and her life; Zyca and her master's) laid at the back of stores, covered in molds of powdered dust and rolled up debris. It wasn't a good sight, definitely wasn't good.

It was basically trash.

Nevertheless, it never stopped him from writing the third volume and hopefully the last. He was immersed in the world of colored genies or rather the girl he wrote about.

"I can't stop. There's something about that story mother. It's burning in me like a flame, like its real." he breathed. "I find Zyca mesmerizing and something tells me something eerie is knocking on her door."

Sarah placed his hands on his face, on his cheeks and neck and gallantly stared into his eyes. A puzzled look flashed across his face.

"I'm taking you to see a doctor." She muttered quickly wiping her tears.

With a wary gaze, he shifted purposely knocking the hairpin back into her wide-open bag. He cleared his throat.

Sarah picked up her bag blindingly at once and placed it on her arm. "Tomorrow by 10, I'm picking you up. I want to know what's wrong with my boy." She said before trotting out of the kitchen with quick steps.

Daniel heard a bang on his door. He knew she was gone at last and he was extremely glad.

With a sigh, he slogged back to the counter and ate his cereal. His insides were already rumbling.

****

The doorbell rang, filling the silent atmosphere with its chime. Daniel wondered if Sarah was back. He swore he would pull the hairs on his head one at a time if he found her on his porch. And he wondered if she came with the girl she spoke about. The girl from one of her many women's club.

A crisp wind brushed his cheek when he pried open the door. It wasn't Sarah – he thanked the Lord. Instead a middle-aged man, stood in a bluish cap, zebra stripped shirts and a trouser of the same kind. On his left breast pocket, a mini badge was pinned, 'Soma delivery'

"Daniel stone?" The man said with a kind smile.

"I am he," Daniel gave the man a midget nod.

The man shot a glance from behind and inclined his hand, signally a smaller boy with a brown box in his hold.

Hair bristled on his arms as the smaller boy drew closer grunting from the weight of the box. It was his books, the one's which didn't sell. A book store decided to send back his books from lack of sale perhaps. It had to be that. Ten other book stores had done the same.

"Your books are declining in sale. We had no choice but to take them away," all said to him over a short phone call.

It had been what his publishers said every single time he got their call. At this rate he was sure his career would end.

"Please sign this," the man said holding out a listed board for him to sign.

Without a minute to waste, Daniel signed the white sheet with the inked pen the man gave to him and cradled the box on his chest bidding them a goodbye.

"Have a lovely day Mr. stone," the man said, tilting his cap with his hand and walking away to the branded delivery van.

The box was indeed heavy, even heavier than the one's he previously received. He was sure it weighed a ton,

With a grunt he turned towards a hallway, following a line of empty picture frames that once concealed his wedding photos - he came to a stop. He banged his butt on the door, which opened wide from the hit with a creak to the side. Daniel walked in.

Daniel flipped a switch on the wall, and the room illuminated immediately with an ivory florescent light.

It was his office.

Scrunches of paper lined the room alongside several boxes just like the one he carried. There was no doubt seeing his works returned did not put an indentation in his feelings. His lifelong achievement of being the bestselling author, three years in a roll had vanished because of Zyca and his unhealthy crush.

He hated her. But he couldn't stop writing about her.

Picking a fallen paper from the floor, he made his way through, dumping the box among the others carelessly. Heaven knew he felt like a sore loser, and he feared what the future had in store for him. Of course, it wouldn't be all sunshine and candies. The wet and mushy ground would be where he would spend the rest of life, under one of the many bridges in town, feeding on expired goods and leftovers like Zyca did.

What was he thinking? He had a step mother and father who cared for him. But could he feed off of them till the day he died? He found nothing wrong with that. They might just be happy to help. Maybe he could take over his families' trade - of running the furniture business his father wholeheartedly started after he learnt from his own father, his grandfather when he was a little boy.

Daniel sat on the black office chair and pulled the laptop to himself. Things could just be better with the third volume and he wished it would be. The thought of sitting in an office, ordering workers around, for many hours was not something he wanted to do.

Groaning, his fingers glided softly on the surface of the keyboard as he typed.

'ZYCA CHAPTER THREE'

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