The Benefits of Madness

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In all my years, I don't remember being sad. My life has been a flurry of joy and discovery. Fairly popular in high school, I dedicated my time to studying, cheer leading and a good group of friends. My sense of style has always helped me stay popular, and with every passing year, I put it to good use by spreading positivity, and giving great advice for peaceful leaving.

It isn't easy to create the lifestyle you want, but little tips and tricks help. From the perfect outfit, to a beautiful decoration, to the perfect hashtag, everything made people happy.

And that was my goal. Keep myself and other people happy.

So I was. Which is why this whole stuck-in-Damian's-body thing makes no sense. It feels like punishment, but what for when all my life has been about spreading good vibes? #blessed #positivity

"Carolyn, are you okay?" Fifi asks, her voice small. "You look strange. If I didn't know better, I'd say you look... sad." She says the word and shudders, like it's a disgusting curse.

It is, for people like me and her. With a sigh, I head for her balcony and step into fresh air. Her neighborhood is silent for New York, so I can tune out the ever-present rumble of traffic and enjoy the silence. That until one of the neighbors starts screaming at a random man on the street because his dog just took a giant crap on the sidewalk.

"Ugh," I mumble, and I can feel Damian sharing my feelings.

"You gon' pick that up?" Fifi's neighbor yells.

"No, Imma spread it right here so you can step in it."

I've never really enjoyed Fifi's neighborhood that much. Her apartment is great, decorated with unique items from our travels, but the building itself... It leaves a lot to be desired. But I'm not going to let that get to me #goodvibesonly

"If you don' pick it up, Imma come shove it down your throat."

Oh my God, how can some people be so unpleasant? #getsomechill. When all this is over, I'm going to make a vlog episode regarding good manners on the street #wecanallgetalong. All we need is to try, smile, lift our eyes to the skies and--

My thoughts screech to a halt as I do just that. There are more butterflies flying above the city, their wings vibrant shades of yellow, blue, green and red. I reach my hand out, even if I'm too far away to touch them. They seem to be singing, a soft melody that drowns the malevolence of the city. Something shifts within me and I think Damian, wherever he is, is seeing this as well, through my eyes.

"Beautiful," I breathe, and he says the same thing inside my head.

We're both in awe as we watch the tiny butterflies dance in the sunlight, orange rays glinting off their delicate bodies. I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, but their wings seem to be spreading tiny specs of gold dust.

"Can I join you?" Fifi does just that, stepping next to me on the small balcony. "Oh, hello Mr. Smith." She waves at her screaming neighbor.

"Good afternoon, girl," he says, waving back. "Look what this bugger and his mutt are doing!"

"Oi! You can't leave that dog crap there," Fifi yells, all but lady-like.

I bring my hands over my ears, trying to block out the noise, her tone breaking my chill and butterfly-induced happiness.

"Fifi, do you really have to scream?" I ask.

She grins at me. "Sorry. I like my neighborhood clean."

I glance from the overflowing dumpster to a puddle of what looks like vomit, then back at her. Yes, the dog crap is the neighborhood's biggest problem.

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