Milagros' tale

The Keeper of Elysium decided a night to herself. She finds a cute geeky vessel in a pub on Plaza Serrano. Milagros seduces her prey and takes him to a table outside.

“What do you see?”

“Just people having fun on the weekend.”

“No. What do you really see?”

He remains silent.

“Let me teach you how things really work.” She gazes around and focus on a particular table outside the bar next door. “There. Those are producers. They work for the studio network nearby. They are searching for their next plaything. They spend money to attract attention, specially young girls like those around here. Now what do you think is gonna happen to them?” Milagros asks.

“They are going to be taken to their place, drink, do drugs, have sex, the usual” the kid answers.

She smiles. “Of course. And then what?”

He remains silent again, thinking on what to answer to the beatiful woman in front of her. He really didn’t expect the conversation to go this way.

“Whomever ranks best in their performance will be recruited through empty promises. TV appearances, parties with famous people… who knows? Maybe if they are talented they might get a special treatment for acting or a singing audition, depending on how much attention she gets through her charisma and beauty.”

She continues. “When that happens, your are ‘in’. Fame. And do you know what comes with that?”

All the beauty and ideas he had with her are gone. He stands up preparing to leave.

“Sit. And listen.” she forces him with her gaze. He returns to his chair.

“Fame is not what you think. You are a prostitute to whomever finances you. That means that if the producer tells you to meet at a certain place in a certain way, you obey. If you don’t, the despair that such ‘fame’ got you vanishes and very few survive that one.” She is stone cold serious. “All those couples of famous people you see know this. They return from being gangbanged by cowards who hide behind their money and influence, to their partners as the producers want them to return. This poor souls play their part and smile to the cameras while they’re at it. Those who lost their appeal are used for other useful things to the producers, like recruiters, as publicity activists of their agendas, or worst, their bullies. You see, media itself is divided in layers, they do not create art. Art is the excuse to deliver an ideal that common people like you should desire, strive for. Once you are in, the true acting is outside your artistic expression, it’s how those producers decide FOR you how to be seen by the public.” She nods silently in sorrow.

“This are the new era leaders. Weak and corrupt. Politicians are nothing more than real life actors put there to inject an emotion you really don’t have. You” she points “the common people don’t know how and don’t believe it if said otherwise. Perhaps one other night I might teach you how.”

They gaze upon their drinks in silence.

“Ages ago, leaders were the strongest men in their tribe. They could overpower any other men they lead. Now, they are not. They prey on the innocent, because they can’t overpower not even the single woman who might scare them if they talk to them. Because of this, they prey on the young, most probably the underage. Take them to their private parties and rape them for fun, hiding through their controlled power structures. Imagine this! Those who preside over you choose a little five year old girl because he is scared of what a twenty-one year old girl might say to them!” she laughs.

“Every single media release has this layers and ways to reach the minds of those who can’t think for themselves and you people can’t even see though it. It’s embarassing!”

She shakes her drink with a straw, looking down.

“Hey! I enjoyed our talk but I gotta go. Wanna meet tomorrow, same time?” and leaves. “Oh, and btw, I release you.”

Next night

“So… where were we?”

 

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Milagros, 5th generation Toreador, child of "Alexandra"