Chapter 7
Next chapter, good for me lol. DaoistsMthQw the following chapter will cover her thoughts on politics and building her own media empire, so to speak. As always feel free to suggest anything you wish.
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"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome a very special guest today. She is one of the most renowned and accomplished fashion designers of our time. Let's all give a round of applause to Ayah Thomason." Oprah says with a broad smile, as a young woman of about 30 years old comes out looking like a million bucks, which was probably not far off from how much the outfit Ayah had on cost.
As Ayah walks out, she smiles and waves to the audience before going over and hugging Oprah. Then she takes a seat across from her idol.
After she takes a seat, Oprah speaks up, "Ayah, welcome to the show. It's lovely to have you here today."
"I am happy to be here today, Oprah. It's been a while." Ayah says, and while it wasn't the first time she had been on the Oprah show, it had been a few years since the last time she was on the show.
"It has been a while, hasn't it. How long has it been since the last time you were on the show?" Oprah asks.
"Oh god, I don't know. Ah…. Five years, I think." Ayah says.
"Wow, five years? Has it really been that long?" Oprah asks, thinking back and realizing it had been that long.
Not because she didn't want Ayah on the show. On the contrary, Ayah was one of the few women Oprah saw as a friend. Young, ambitious, and talented, Ayah was something else, and Oprah was proud of the young lady in front of her, just as she was of any of her sisters or brothers who had risen so high in the world.
"It has, and you know I blame myself, Oprah. I have been swamped over the last five years, leaving me with little time for anything but work. It has been crazy." Ayah says.
"I would say. For those who are unfamiliar, Ayah is the founder of Eternal Youth Fashion. One of the top fashion brands today." Oprah says, and a loud cheer comes from the audience, many of whom were wearing Ayah's designs.
"Hold up, hold up, she is also the chairwoman of BIB Makeup, a member of the NAACP, and spokesperson for the BISA, as well as several other non-profit organizations," Oprah says, and clapping gets louder.
Smiling widely, Ayah just waves and smiles. Looking more than a bit shy at the praise coming her way.
When it starts to die down, Oprah says, "Young lady, how old are you again?"
Looking more than a bit smug, Ayah answered, "I am 31 years old this year."
"31 years old. You have come far over the last 10 years, haven't you?" Oprah.
"I have," Ayah answers.
Looking at the audience, Oprah says, "Again, for those of you who do not know, it has been nearly 10 years to the date that Ayah made her first appearance at the Paris Fashion Week."
An image of Ayah appears on the screen at said fashion week, showcasing one of her original designs that made her famous, along with another woman, whom the world knew even better than Ayah.
The boys and some girls in the audience start to whistle at the image, and Ayah, good naturally rolls her eyes. Because, while she wears less revealing clothes today, back then she had no problem and still doesn't have a problem showing a lot more skin.
"God, you were so gorgeous that night. It's no wonder the world took notice." Oprah says.
Smiling Ayah says, "Thank you."
Giving Ayah a teasing smirk, however, Oprah asks, "But tell me who is that lovely young woman you're holding hands with?"
Putting her head in her hands, Ayah shakes her head and says, "Oh god, I knew this was coming." Then looks up at Oprah and says, "Oprah, you know good and well who that is."
"Yes, but I want to hear you say it," Oprah says with a cheeky smile while the crowd ohs at her.
Letting out a deep sigh, Ayah says, "That is my former, and yes, former no matter what the media says, girlfriend Isabel Cadaval."
This gets a few claps from the audience, as Isabel was a far more questionable character than Ayah was. And not only because the audience was primarily black. No, it was more because Isabel was still the same unapologetic bitch who loved nothing more than to cause trouble for the world. Forcing the world to either like or hate her, with little middle ground.
"Really just former," Oprah says, and another image of them two drinking coffee with each other appears on the screen.
Earning more oh and awes from the crowd.
Holding up her hands, Ayah is not surprised that this was a topic of discussion. The fact was that no matter what she did from the moment she met Isabel, she would forever be linked to her. So, taking it in stride, she says, "It was just coffee. Nothing else."
Which gets a lot of awes from the crowd, primarily because they were the hottest couple in the world. As well as being one of the most controversial couples, due to both of them being women. How often they were attacked in the media by religious fanatics and plain haters was too many to count, and that was before you took into account everything Isabel had invented over the years. Still, they were the power couple of the late 90s and early 2000s. With Ayah Fashion and Isabel Company, they took the world by storm and honestly had fun doing it until it was no longer fun.
"Okay, okay, former girlfriend," Oprah says.
"You sound like you don't believe me, Oprah," Ayah says with a smile.
"I don't," Oprah says, and Ayah laughs.
"But let's move on," Oprah says as everyone laughs.
Ayah does as well, for that matter.
"The story of your relationship with Isabel is well documented. I mean, you were one of the few openly gay celebrity couples of the time. As well as both of you being very successful in your fields. I mean, you both have inspired many young women and gay people around the world, but what isn't covered is your breakup with her. Do you mind telling us what happened?" Oprah asks.
Taking a deep breath as this was a tricky question, Ayah answered, "In a word, Oprah, pride. Pride got in the way of our relationship."
"Pride? Hers or yours?" Oprah asks.
"Mine," Ayah answered.
"Care to go into details?" Oprah asks.
"I prefer not to, but I think it's time for me to come clean on what happened." Ayah says, then stops for a moment before continuing, "Okay, I have always thought of myself as a strong, independent black woman. Able to stand up on my feet and make it in the world on my own."
"An opinion many would agree with," Oprah says.
"Thank you, but the truth was that back then, I was anything but confident in myself. " Ayah says.
"Really? I find that hard to believe," Oprah says.
"I know, and I hid it well, but as time passed and Isabel kept becoming bigger and bigger. I started to feel like I was the lesser of the two of us. Wherever we went, people almost always deferred to her, and I was kind of like the afterthought, or the candy." Ayah says.
"You felt like an afterthought?" Oprah asks in surprise, as Ayah, back then, was also getting a lot of attention.
"I did," Ayah answers.
"Did she make you feel that way?" Oprah asks.
"No…. never," Ayah answers right away.
"Then why did you feel that way?" Oprah asks.
Taking a moment, Ayah says, "Well, looking back, I had no reason to feel that way, but I was young and ambitious, and so was she. That is what drew me to her in the first place, but as time passed, the ambition that drew me to her started to overshadow my accomplishments. Or so I felt."
Sitting back, Oprah says, "You were jealous of her?"
"For lack of a better word, yes. I was jealous of her. I mean, Isabel is a genius. I knew that the moment I met and talked with her. So she was always going to be successful, and I accepted that. But then someone, I forget who, asked me if I thought my own success came because I was Isabel Cadaval's girlfriend more than my own talent." Ayah says.
Oprah gets an upset and slightly angry look on her face at hearing that someone had actually asked Ayah that, "That had to hurt." That was all Oprah could say.
"It did, and it made me question my own abilities for the first time. It's no secret that Isabel provided the initial capital for Eternal Youth and BIB Makeup. But I didn't realize that people may have thought she had only given me that loan because I was her girlfriend. So I went to her and asked her point-blank. Was the reason she gave me that loan because we were dating? Her answer was a flat yes." Ayah answers, and more than a few ows come from the crowd.
"That must have upset you," Oprah says.
"It did, and you know it took me years to realize I made a mistake when I asked her that," Ayah says.
Looking a bit confused, Oprah says, "What do you mean?"
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ayah says, "Okay, this is something I absolutely hate about Isabel's and something I forgot in the heat of the moment. That girl is denser than stone."
Oprah starts to laugh at this, as does the audience.
Waving her hand, Ayah says, "No, I mean it. I have never meant anyone as dense as Isabel. The girl couldn't take a hint, if you tattooed it to her head."
Still laughing a bit, Oprah asks, "Okay, I just have to ask, what do you mean?"
"Simply put, when you ask her a question, unless she meant to be vague with you from the start, she will answer you in the most matter-of-fact way you can think of. So when I asked her, did she give me that loan because we were dating, of course, her answer was going to be yes." Ayah says.
"Still, that seems a little straightforward of an answer to give someone who was clearly upset," Oprah says.
"It was, and I know she knew I was upset, but for someone like Isabel, the reason why will often escape her. So if you ask her a question and are not clear on what you are asking, she will give you an honest answer if she sees no reason to lie. She won't go into details or elaborate on her answer. Knowing that even back then, my question should have been, was the only reason she gave me that loan, because we were dating?" Ayah says.
"Would the answer have been any different?" Oprah asks.
Nodding her head, Ayah says, " To put it bluntly, yes, it would have been. In fact, I later found out that she didn't understand why I wasn't returning her calls. Leaving her in the dark about why I broke up with her."
"It seems pretty clear to me," Oprah says.
"To you and anyone else but her, not so much?" Ayah says.
"So what happened next? I mean, you two are clearly speaking again." Oprah asks.
Looking more than a bit annoyed now, Ayah answered, "Well, after a few months had passed, I finally met up with her again. I kind of had to, seeing as she owned 30 percent of my company. And when we did meet, her first question was. Why did I break up with her?"
"How did she respond when you told her?" Oprah asks.
Leaning back and clicking her tongue, Ayah suddenly looks more than a bit peeved as she answers, "She laughed."
"She what?" Oprah asks in shock.
"She laughed," Ayah says, a bit angry now.
"Why did she laugh?" Oprah asks.
Letting out a sigh, Ayah says, "In her own words. I had to be the most narcissistic person in the world to think that the only reason she would give me a million dollars to start my own company was because we were dating. The sex may have been good, great even, but it wasn't worth that much, and I had a few more payments to go before she even thought of giving me that type of money."
The audience burst out laughing at this. Unable to control themselves.
"Oh my god, that is so mean. What did you do next?" Oprah asks, trying to keep the smirk off her face.
"I did the only thing I could do, Oprah. I picked up a cup of water, threw it in her face, and stormed off with her still laughing behind me. So, ya, needless to say, for anyone watching, we are never dating again. You hear that, Isabel, because I know you're watching. This candy shop is closed." Ayah stands up and makes a motion with her hands towards her body.
Though if Ayah was being honest with herself, she was not so sure about that.
-1998-
Sitting in his office inside the soon-to-be ex-HQ of Eezkiel Inc., Ted Bundy, the head of IT for the company, along with his team, were getting their first look at the uncoded vision of Buzzsaw. To say they were all amazed at what they were seeing would be the understatement of the year. Ted already knew that Buzzsaw was a fantastic system before he had a chance to examine the whole thing. He would even go so far as to call it a work of art in computer engineering. But as he sat here behind his desk and looked at the lines of code he had to admit to himself that he barely understood a fucking thing.
Ted wasn't stupid, far from it in fact. He and his team may not have been at the top of their class, but like them, he was in the middle of the pack. If not just a bit higher than the others, but even so, what he was seeing was far beyond him. Almost everything he was seeing before his eyes wasn't taught in school. Or, if it was, it was covered as purely theoretical work, at best, something people either wrote down on a napkin or an idea someone tossed out. The closest thing he had to compare Buzzsaw to was Ais in movies.
It wasn't AI, clearly, but this led him to question. Was he looking at the first steps towards a proper AI system?
He didn't know, to be honest. None of them did, and none of them were even suggesting it. All any of them knew was that Buzzsaw would not be easy to improve upon. Even with the list Isabel had given them, letting them know where she thought things could be improved or parts she had just slapped together. It was kind of scary to be honest. If Buzzsaw, as it was, was what she got from slapping things together, what would she have gotten if she had proper equipment like she does now?
Honestly, Ted preferred not to think about it too much. It already hurt his pride to think that she started working on this at 12 and created such a sophisticated system by 18. Fucking hell when she was 12 his ass was still in high school smoking pot behind the gym and wondering how to get laid.
It was almost too much for him to take, but he quickly got over his hurt pride, unlike most others. Isabel made it easy by how much she was willing to pay him when he first started, and now he was the project lead, earning over $75,000 a year. Say what you want, but money truly eases the pain of hurt pride. Ted's mom and dad were good, hard-working people, but they only made $50,000 a year together. Now here he was making more than both of them right out of college, and to think his dad called him a fool for taking the job in the first place. Isabel was even talking about profit sharing. She may not have been willing to give shares in her company, but the girl did spread the wealth. After all, the lowest earner in the company, Susan, in sales, was pulling in 40,000 a year.
However, before Isabel could even consider profit sharing, sales had to increase. As project leader on Buzzsaw, Starlight, and now Smog No More (name pending), it was his responsibility to build upon what she had already created and get things up and running so they could generate larger profits. It was a significant responsibility, but one he was glad to take on, given that the potential payoff could be substantial.
"Penny for your thoughts, Ted?" Michael, his best friend, asks.
Looking up at his friend from his desk, Ted says, "Just think about how far we have come."
Letting out a laugh, Michael sits down across from him and says, "Ya, in all in one year too. Fuck man this shit is crazy."
"That is what happens when you work for someone who is on the cutting edge," Ted says.
"Ya, she is unbelievably smart. I mean to create something like this on her own. It's like she is the female version of Dr. Doom or Reed Richards, man." Michael says, showing his nerd side.
"Only better looking," Ted says in jest.
"Way better looking." Michael agrees, then adds, "Hey, speaking of the boss, where is she?"
"You didn't hear. She took her girlfriend to France for the Paris Fashion Week." Ted answers.
Whistling at that, Michael says, "Impressive, shit most I could do for my girlfriend is take her on a trip to beach."
Not that Michael was complaining. Fuck the boss was paying everyone a lot more then most companies out there. Especially new companies that were starting out. So he had no complaints. In fact, given the amount of money he was currently being paid, he would most likely be done paying off his college debts and car payment within a few years.
"You're telling me. Want to hear the best part?" Ted asks.
"What?" Michael asks.
"She put it on the company account under marketing without telling Doug," Ted says.
Michael bursts out laughing at this and says, "He is going to flip out, man, when he finds out."
"I know," Ted says and starts to laugh.
That was, in all honesty, the best part of the job. The Doug and Isabel comedy hour. When he had first started this job, Ted had honestly believed they didn't like each other, with how Isabel got on Doug's nerves all the time, and how he confronted her about something she had done. Yet he came to realize that it was all in good fun. She liked to tease the man, and he enjoyed it when she did. It kept things lively.
"I wonder what the boss is doing right now?" Ted wonders.
Standing topless outside the balcony window at the top of my penthouse room at the lovely Ritz Hotel in Paris, I felt… Well, I felt nothing, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, it was nice and everything, but I was pretty sure that this was supposed to be the moment when I felt like I was on top of the world. Like I had finally made it to the top where I rightfully belonged and all that, but honestly, it all felt dull.
Not so much a let down as underwhelming. Granted, I was happy to be here with my girlfriend, who was trying to hide her excitement, much to my amusement. After all, I also enjoyed fashion for several reasons. Mainly because it fed my ego whenever I made someone do a double-take or helped me get what I wanted, but I could buy clothes at any store, and didn't have to come all the way to Paris for that. So why was I here, some may ask?
Well, for two reasons, honestly, the first being...
"Isabel, what the fuck are you doing?" I hear the voice of my lovely girlfriend, Ayah, shouting out.
Looking at my girlfriend with an innocent look, I answer in a relaxed tone, "Taking in the scenery."
"Without a shirt or a bra on? What if someone sees you?" Ayah says.
I try to control my laughter at hearing this, but I fail spectacularly. Ah, that is my girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen: the would-be fashion designer and so-called liberated woman. Who had hang ups about me being fully topless in a non public setting but not dressing like a slut in a very public setting. It was so cute, if not just a bit confusing.
Still giggling, I say, "I seriously doubt anyone can see me love. We are on the top floor after all, and I am not even fully out on the balcony."
Looking more than a bit angry, Ayah says, "That is not the point."
She grabs a robe and comes over to me and tosses it around me.
"And what is the point, babe?" I ask.
"The point is, you're about to be very famous when word gets out about your deal with the government. Pictures of you topless can hurt your image down the road." Ayah says.
I take a moment to smile upon hearing that. How cute it was that she was worried about my image. As if such a thing mattered to me or would matter to me in the long run. The press or whoever could take as many pictures as they liked of me being topless or whatever. It wouldn't matter in the least. The very moment I got my foot in the door with the military, there was no going back. Love me or hate me, no amount of bad press or slander would be enough to touch me. Sure, some politicians would likely try to use whatever they could against me, but the fear of me selling to someone else down the line would keep them in check. Such was the power of advanced technology. I wasn't there yet, of course, but soon enough I would be.
That was one of the reasons I came to France after all. To ensure that my value to the US government continued to increase. Sure, the main reason I came to France was to have fun with my girlfriend, who had always wanted to go to the Paris Fashion Week. The other reason, while slightly less important to me, was that I was well aware that a person's value is determined by their competition. While it initially suited my needs to be the only one with a system as advanced as Buzzsaw at the start, that was only in the short term.
If I were the only one to have something like Buzzsaw for an extended amount of time, my value to the US government would decrease. And keep decreasing to the point that they would either try to lowball me or outright steal my technology, and that was the best-case scenario. The worst would be that they get rid of me altogether, and they could. Anyone who thinks the US government would stoop to the level of Communist China or Russia is naïve at best or stupid. Knowing this, it was in my best interest that someone out there in the world could, if not make a copy of Buzzsaw, at least start taking steps in the right direction to make it.
Sadly, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, at least not without help. Buzzsaw was just too far ahead of anyone to reasonably catch up anytime soon. My own team was having trouble understanding what Buzzsaw really was, and they got to look at the code in its entirety. For those who didn't, it was nearly impossible to make the jump, at least for now. Maybe in another couple of years, but that wasn't soon enough for me. To ensure that someone had made the jump, I hacked the personal computer of a professor in the UK who was helping to crack Buzzsaw and adjusted his calculations on how Buzzsaw was constructed. Not enough to make it evident that I had hacked his computer, but just enough to make a slight change that would go unnoticed. Perhaps I wasn't sure about that, but it's human nature to take credit for things you didn't do yourself. Even if this professor noticed someone had changed his calculations without his knowledge, if no one stepped forward to claim credit, he would most likely not say anything.
Now, it wouldn't take long for the US intelligence department to discover that someone had successfully taken a step to creating their own version of Buzzsaw, which would lead them to suspect a leak within my company. They would ask their questions, likely investigate, but ultimately find nothing. After all, Buzzsaw was only the public system. My own private version was far more advanced. Making tracing anything back to me impossible. Additionally, I would still be in Paris when this discovery was supposed to have occurred. Far away from my system and any type of computer. Something that the CIA spies, who were currently watching me, would report. Yes, I was being watched right now, and was well aware of it. I wasn't fucking stupid to think they would not be watching me at this point. I may not have seen them, but I knew they were there, thanks to hacking into the CIA's computer network.
"Ah, babe, that is so sweet. To be looking out for me like that, but you know you don't have to lie. I totally understand that you want to keep this all for yourself." I say with a teasing smirk, open the robe up, and show off my girls. Pushing them for added effect.
It works like a charm, as Ayah's eyes look down momentarily. Then, backup and saw my smirk. Which pisses her off as she turns me around and smacks my ass hard.
"Go get dressed. We leave in an hour and I don't want to be late." Ayah says, trying to fight off how much her girlfriend affected her.
"Yes, dear," I say as I sway my hips from side to side.
It takes a lot longer than an hour to get dressed, by the way, but in my defense, it wasn't my fault. When it came to fashion, Ayah was as much of a perfection freak as I was in coding. Every little thing was wrong in her eyes. My hair was right, but my shoes didn't match the outfit. The dress was too wrinkled. My makeup was off, and so on. The girl was straight-up tripping and should count herself lucky. I was such a saint, and I found her obsession cute. Otherwise, I don't think I could have taken nearly two and a half hours of that shit. Still, the finished product spoke volumes, I thought to myself as I got out of the limo with my girlfriend. Looking like a million bucks as the cameras flashed as we arrived at the first of many shows we would be attending this week.
Of course, they didn't know who we were, but that didn't matter. We were both beautiful, and while Ayah was closer to the beauty standards of the day than I was, her being more slender and I having more muscle definition didn't change the fact that we were wearing drop-dead gorgeous dresses on bodies that most women would kill for. However, I was getting most of the attention, and not only because I was walking in front of my girlfriend.
Ayah did her best not to look nervous, but it still showed. I didn't blame her; this was a big opportunity for her after all. If people liked her designs, she could become a top-line designer by the end of our trip. With so much riding on this, she was, of course, nervous, and it somewhat showed, unlike with me, who had nothing riding on how people liked Ayah's designs and didn't care one way or the other if they liked what they saw. I wanted my girlfriend to succeed tonight, but overall, all these people were nameless nobodies to me. A sea of nameless and faceless people whom I wouldn't remember come tomorrow. They mattered so little in the grand scheme of things that it was easy for me to wear a look of indifference on my face. The very look that many models tried to pull off but often failed to do.
Really, my girlfriend should be so worried. Even if they didn't like her designs, I already had plans in place to help her start her own fashion company by hiding it as a desire to extend my portfolio. Still, we did the rounds, walked around the room, greeting people I didn't care about and saying hello to some designers and fellow audience members before we go to our seats. Seats that were in the front row, by the way. It was terrific how dropping 20 grand opened so many doors. It immediately labeled us as important people. People you wanted to get to know, even if no one knew who you were. Well, almost no one, I thought, as I looked across the stage and saw several CEO of some of the biggest companies in France looking our way. I, of course, put on a show by acting all shy and giggling as I waved at them.
Seeing me do this, Ayah asks, "Why are you giggling and waving at those men like some airheaded slut?"
Leaning over and giggling, I say, "Play along, those people over there are the ones I told you about before we left Florida."
Quickly remembering who I was talking about, Ayah plays along, asking, "If those are the big shots you want to get in good with, why are you giggling like some bimbo?"
Giggling even more as we wave at them, I say, "Because no matter who you are, man or woman, if someone acts like an airhead in front of you, you tend to say things you otherwise shouldn't. Believing that they wouldn't understand what you're talking about anyway."
"You want them to underestimate you?" Ayah says with a smile.
"That is right. In business, everything is fair so long as you win, and I plan to win." I say with a smile as the lights start to dim and the stage lights up. The show is about to begin, and I wasn't talking about just the fashion show.