The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Red Blooms the Rose

Read chapter 1 of The Distinguished Mr. Rose by QuiteTheSlacker on NovelPedia.

Chapter 1: Red Blooms the Rose “And I will keep on doing what I am doing in order to cut the ground from under those who want an opportunity to be considered equal with us in the things they boast about. For such people are false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising as adherents of Christ. And no wonder, for the devil himself masquerades as an angel of light!” - 2 Corinthians 11:12-14 ——— Lucius was a man of many peculiarities. Every day, he woke up at six-o-clock AM. Not a minute earlier. Not a second later. Exactly six-o-clock AM, for it was then that his home in the humble suburbs of Wisconsin was at its most elegant. Why was it so? No special reason. In life, people simply did because they could . Routines, patterns, superstitions and beliefs—everyone had a certain something that made them tick. Something that gave meaning to their everyday existence. In that regard, Lucius was a man of honesty. When a whim lured him, he followed. When he desired something, he took it. There was nothing more important to the good Lucius than his own happiness, and so towards whatever gave him joy, he indulged in it without a care. Such was his way of life, and it would continue to be so as the sun rose on another, seemingly ordinary, morning. He did not need an alarm or the old grandfather clock by his bedside to rouse him - the dawn’s light was more than enough: soft, supple, like being bathed in rays of gold. If the dawn actually came by then, that is. Sometimes it was rather lazy. Lucius’s routine was ever the same. There he laid in a tidy bed - breaths silent and body still like the dead - when his eyes fluttered open, and thus to the world he said: “Good morning. My, what a pleasant day!” Lucius rose up and stretched his body, meticulously smoothing out all those pesky muscles, and then strode towards his wardrobe. A man’s first impression was most important, after all. There was no excuse for looking slovenly. Fortunately, he had no shortage of charming little garments, suits, and jackets—oh my! Such great variety to choose from, but eventually he settled on a violet suit and black slacks. “Hohoh, ever the charmer!” He admired himself in a nearby mirror. His hair was starting to grey, once luscious black locks now faded into pale frosted tips, but Lucius didn’t mind it. To age was a beautiful thing, and there was a certain romance in being an old soul. Like a fine-aged barrel of whisky, he only grew more dashing with time. But such dandy allure was not without effort. Lucius took a deep breath, and he began to practice his expressions. He smiled. “This is the face I will make when I am happy.” He frowned. “This is the face I will make when I am sad.” He scrunched his brow. “This is the face I will make when I am upset.” And to finish it all off, he gave himself a little wink. “Marvelous. I truly am a fine specimen.” With his routine out of the way, he strolled towards the door… and then stopped. Ah, his attire was missing one last thing. Lucius reached under a drawer, and pulled out a most peculiar mask. It was made of porcelain, features emotionless, with streaks of purple and gold and a most pristine white, and where would normally be a socket for one’s right eye was instead covered by a bright red rose. The mask was his implement. He would need it for the performance to come. “Can’t forget about this old thing now, can I?” Lucius carefully put the mask in his pocket and finally left the bedroom. His next agenda consisted of the usual: a little grooming, some fresh fruit and yogurt for a lovely breakfast, and a quick listen to the local radio. “You’re listening to… 88.1 The Mix!” The radio blared with a catchy jingle. “Good morning to all you beautiful people out there. It’s Elizabeth and Radar, and today’s a very special day. It’s Veteran’s Day! And for the folks with family in the military, a reunion just might be coming soon. Can you tell me more about it, Radar?” “I sure can, Elizabeth!” a male voice spoke up. “The troops ar