Greco-Italian war
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Mastermind by Taylor Swift
You could say she had a diabolical mind. And if you expressed it to her face, she considered it a compliment, more so than when you praised her beauty. Her brain was thinking of all the possible versions of a plan. Ways out and solutions, in the exceptional case that she was faced with obstacles. And she always won the battles that unfolded in front of her. She always won. At any cost. Having in her quiver, bows steeped in the poison of wit that stood out on her forehead, she took out of contention every enemy who dared to set foot on the blood-stained land of emotions she claimed. You could say that her mind worked like a faithful clock that wakes its master when the sun rises and the moon disappears from the field of view of the human eye. A precious all-gold watch was her mind, adorned from head to toe with rose petals that the ghost of the dawn left behind, as she went to meet her secret lover behind the pointers of the clock that always struck midnight. Indeed, she had thought of everything. Every possible scenario, every self-destructive thought had crossed her mind. And always the gilded shell of her brain came to the same conclusion. In this particular solution. As if the stars and planets had aligned when the two of them found themselves in that room. As if they did it on purpose jokingly, they placed their fates on the wooden table of that low-ceilinged room and began to cut and sew their thread. Messing up the tangles of their existences, as if it were a badly written joke. She pushed that thought out of her mind and looked angrily at the sky. The stars, now pretending to hide under the sunlight, smiled at her mentally and subtly illuminated the path she had to follow. Gritting her teeth, she smiled at the male figure to her left who looked at her with wide eyes and grabbed the red marker in front of her. The male figure managed to whisper not to do what she had in mind, but she had already written on the board. They looked at the board at the same time and the red letters symbolized the start of war – they knew it themselves. Her name, written, was capable of causing the luck of both of them, leading to bad events. Which she might not have planned. Or she could have. After all, she was known as a true mastermind.
Her cold and trembling flustered hands deliberately let the red marker fall to the ground, making an irritating- dragging sound and laughing in her mind at her dramatic self, who always wanted to chase elusive dreams and make everything sparkle, born with the coveted Midas touch. She had the whole afternoon at her disposal, to face her opponent and create the plan that would bring her closer to the much-desired victory. And then, it would clearly show to that male shocked face that watched every twitch of her forehead, how much intelligence she had drilled into her thighs. She would show that sun-tanned face from the Italian land, with whom she had to do. What ancient powers birthed her mother and what bird’s beak quenched her never-before-seen bleeding lips, for him to come and stand with such audacity in front of her. She was enchanted by this audacity. She made her temples tremble, at the dance of Enceladus and let her not admit it. It might have been a simple debate, but she thought it was a deadly power play. Who will be recognized as the most intelligent among the others. Who will lead the hungry wolves that were about to rush into civilization and devour it at once. She tried to concentrate her thoughts in the small mental boxes defined by the procedure and immediately got down to business, writing in detail what could be used against him. She had colorful markers next to her, but she preferred to use the red one. She imagined it would be his wasted blood, rolling down the paper and staining her cheeks red, every time he decided to pull her chair to watch her fall to the ground, always at lunchtime. She would soon show him that his little antics irritated her more than anything else. She didn’t dare admit that they made her heart skip a beat and her lower limbs freeze to death. Waiting to taste his eternal kiss. Nonsense, she whispered to herself. He was only an enemy. Nothing more. Nothing less. What she could not understand was that during wars, it is not forbidden to kiss your enemy. No one could tell if she hadn’t foreseen it.The smart ones do not analyze their plans, nor do they engage in small talk with the rest. Masterminds do not reveal their secrets. They act silently under the city lights. Αnonymously.
Her precious hand stretched out in pain as she caught herself writing on some scrap paper for over three hours.Her incomprehensible mind was already working overtime and she thought it was time to loosen up a little.Her allies proposed the same, having in the back of their heads, that she was their strong card and she should not withdraw from the first quarter, as they saw it from their perspective, victory was a one-way street.The getaway car hadn’t reached her nerve cells yet, nor had the thought of giving up crossed her mind.They wouldn’t get very far as a team if they quit now. They had to continue the search, at all costs.This battle was nothing compared to the Greco-Italian war that had been going on for days now, giving a taste of Mediterranean temperament to the other members of the European Union. This war would end today, whether Italian sovereignty wanted it or not, having found the source of the trouble and the beginning of the war estrus, which was none other than her presence.Hard to guess, I daresay. Back to the foreign soil that hosted the impending war conflict, the conifers bent over her gaze and met her all-around handwriting spread out on the crumpled papers, steeped in self-doubt and they laughed repeatedly at the fastidiousness of her annotations. Such meticulousness, not even in his wildest dreams.She knew where to strike, even though the way the battle was developing, favoured the Italian enemy.Her ancestors trusted her. She would not betray her brave parentage.A smug breeze interrupted her attention and an Italian hand landed on her shoulder, rousing the wild one inside her. She turned backwards, annoyed at his insolence and a seeming storm formed in her eyes expressing all the disgust she could feel for him. Enemies should not be in the same encampment. Nor look at each other, as if they want to swallow the nectar of their existence and stab their hurt feelings in succession. He leaned down next to her and whispered in her ear, softly, that he would come out victorious between them, electrifying the atmosphere surrounding them and letting her know he wasn’t joking at all.She found herself resenting and wanting to suffocate him slowly and painfully with her bare hands, depriving his wasteful presence of this vain world one, until now, dared to question the power of her mind. How capable she was, as a general of the Greek side. How smart she was. And this unruly Italian horse had just done it. Oh, he would pay dearly for this humiliation, she swore to herself. You don’t provoke masterminds, unless you want to kill yourself.
The sun was setting and the pen was almost out of ink when she raised her head and looked behind her. The procedures were completed. The time of the collision was on her feet and waiting to be rebuilt from the ground up. Most of the war observers had started to enter the room where the battle would take place, clueless about the following ones. The Italian horse, as she mockingly called him, gave her a complimentary look, full of arrogance, as he stepped his foot inside the door and held it ostentatiously, saying ladies first. – What an idiot, my Lord, trying to play it superior when he’s sure to lose, she thought to herself , dripping irony from her parted lips, forming a crooked smile. She shouldn’t care so much about his insolence, she had a fight to face against him. They weren’t characters from a fantasy book with dragons and knights, nor did they have an incurable passion for each other. All this war needed was strategy. Nothing more, nothing less, she kept reminding herself. Then why do they constantly dream of themselves, under the same roof, nights when the moon dominates the sky, bewitching nights where the caress becomes a mark, an imprint, on naked bodies that are sacrificed on the altar of pride? She pushed that thought from her mind, which had planned everything since the day she crossed the conceivable limits of the universe and sat in her chair quietly. She threatened her tears not to flow, not to humiliate her, in front of her enemy and above all not to betray the empathy she hid deep within her soul. She watched the hostile male figure rise and lift the group onto his shoulders. His speech had good prospects, she had to admit. Her resourceful mind had foreseen this version of the story and was not threatened in the least. The tricks he used to convince the others in the room were outdated, even though they were arguing about his land, the one that gave him life and made him a fierce warrior of northern Italy . She squirmed quite a bit in her chair, anxious about her foray into battle, didn’t want to be ridiculed in front of his eyes, as if she cared enough about his opinion to feel threatened by his pretended cloth that was pinned on her while he was talking. What did she just – Oh no. Oh . That means something. This thing, that keeps looking at her angrily, that keeps trying to be with her constantly. He is not as much of an enemy as she thought. Damn it. As a mastermind, she should have realized this sooner. How do we proceed from here on, in a camp with mines placed everywhere?
She was drenched in cold sweat as soon as she heard her name being mouthed by her allies . Time to show this poor creature who would really win this war , although it was not difficult to guess. She had all the provisions to be declared the winner. No roadblock would ever stand in her way to immortality. She had crossed this path countless times, so many that it seemed like a game to her now. After all, she didn’t want to win in ordinary ways, had become like an immune food the fact that she always won, whoever the enemy was. Her mind had already formed the initial illusion she wanted to feed on the opponent before the scuffle even begins . She began to speak, greeted those upon present and pushed a clump of her hair that was falling in front of her eyes. The male figure kept his eyes on her, constantly, making her task even more complicated. She was trying not to look at him, wanted to erase that stupid smile from his face , he wanted to confuse her, that devil with lifelong eyes . Suddenly, her tongue got stuck, didn’t know what to say, trying to show that she forgot her words, the ones she’d been memorizing all afternoon . She apologized to the audience and sat down, pretending to be disappointed , playing the grieving widow beautifully. She was shaking her leg incessantly, as a sign of inability to betray her human nature , making the time pass even harder. The hardest moment had just arrived and reached upon their feet . Two hands rose stiffly, ready to swallow her existence and the war plan she had proposed. No sentence with a question mark scared her anymore . That’s why she responded bluntly to those who will crucify her at the first moment not letting a single pin drop on the dirty floor. A sneer was stuck on the other side΄s lips , causing a disturbance inside her. Her mind played games with her confidence, thought she saw a glint of pride in his ey – I am going to prison for life , just by touching your flames , said softly to her subcutaneous world . The opposite side interrupted the coherence of her proposals and began to launch attacks on the plan she had drawn up, stressing that they would not be able to reach even the borders with such visions. She threw the chair to the side and began to refute the nonsense , enemy was spouting, pointing out the flaws in his own plan.How was it possible for them to win in this way? She had been forced to work with newborns , everyone could see it . However, masterminds don’t lose. Never. Time for checkmate .
By the time the meeting was over, the flowers had grown back as thorns and her anxiety had peaked. The verdict of the public has never been good for bloodthirsty criminals who constantly seek the validation of the world. The message was clear from the enemy -he would crush her at every chance he got. She dragged her carcass to the wooden benches outside the conference room, mourning herself. People’s decisions scared her more than torturous death, could lead innocents to the gallows. An ally approached her discreetly and informed her that the decision had been made, punching a hole in the bubble she was trapped in, cradling her face in both of her hands. She felt great relief looking at the smiles of the attendees, entering the hall with her head held high. Her confidence was hardly caged, she thought as she approached the table with the envelope containing the result. If her plan worked, she had to lose the ballot . She didn’t want to expose her hidden narcissism, so she gave her hand to the enemy, clenching her fingertips. The people took their seats and the general coughed loudly so that they could finally start. Among the rest of the members, his own eyes locked on hers, hearing that he had won this rough-and-tumble clash . She had lost honorably to her most valuable rival , it was something she would hardly accept. Unless she already knew . But these are games of chance, impossible to escape one’s destiny. Not a single beat escaped from the heart that has been carrying for twenty-one years, the girl with the flaming eyes and the invisible bow slung across her back. She remained unfazed, approaching her opponent diplomatically and shaking his hand again, muttering congratulatory words of victory . The war was still raging, but she had just played her strong card , eagerly awaiting his own reaction. She didn’t have to wait long. Half an hour earlier during dinner, the constellations presented her with the most elusive opportunity. She followed him to that secluded warehouse to fetch a chair , clearing her throat only time. The male figure who thought he had won the battle between them stood in front of her and asked her in surprise why she appeared in such a place, at such a time. Her tender words nestled in his heart, was hard for him to understand that this unruly warrior might even have feelings after all , as she congratulated him once more, telling him she had a present for him, as a sign of reconciliation. He didn’t have time to open his mouth as she pressed her lips to his, savoring her own victory, bringing to the surface the true nature of the Greco-Italian war ,the struggle between these two to express what they felt. And she had done it first, with great success. She had managed to see behind the words and insults they exchanged daily. For her, losing a battle by feigning the truth makes you win the war by straight-corner execution. Masterminds do not need the truth .
After all, a sloppy kiss can win a war