#I accept all Camila's rights and all Camila's wrongs even if those wrongs are fashion crimes

[milfcamilanoceda]

i dont know how unpopular this opinion is but i lowkey hate Camila's timeskip glasses

[5hfanfiction]

you look happier, you do

Summary: After leaving the group for more than a year, Camila spends the day with the girls and she realizes, moving on isn’t as easy as it seems.

“Promise that I will not take it personal, baby, If you’re moving on with someone new,”

-        Happier, Ed Sheeran

xxx

Camila grips the steering wheel tightly, her palms sweating despite turning up the air conditioning to full blast. The beat of her heart pounds harder in her chest as she drives the car through a narrow driveway lined with palm trees on both sides. She steps on the breaks when she nears a tall wrought-iron gate, giving a minimal view of the not-so-modest two-storey classical villa. The sight of the humongous house already overwhelms her and she hopes it wouldn’t be the case once she meets the girls.

You can do this. You can do this, she chants the mantra mentally, hoping the little technique would ease the anxiety that’s threatening to take over. Her mind, unfortunately, isn’t cooperating so well as it begins to flood negative thoughts that she has been desperately trying evade.

God, what if they still hate me? I mean, sure, they said they didn’t actually hate me but they weren’t exactly ecstatic either with the turn of events. Though we all talked it out right? We’re all good right? Yeah, we are, like why else would they invite me over?

Camila nods at herself, finally finishing her internal debate with a huge huff. She relaxes the muscles of her shoulders, only now realizing how stiff she must have looked while driving. Her entire body has been tense throughout the drive, and that’s a solid forty-five minutes of staying perfectly still with a very uptight expression on her face. Not to mention the numbing sensation on her bottom.

Unsure on how she should make her presence known, she juggles her options fast before security could mistake her for some creepy stalker that’s managed to track Fifth Harmony in this quiet uphill neighborhood in California. She originally decides to climb out of the car, wrangle the gates and yell at some guard on duty or Ally to let her in (because she forgot to charge her phone before leaving the hotel, what else is new?).

But thank God she has saved herself from causing a scene after spotting an intercom, right next to her side of the car, that she could have sworn is a garbage disposal judging from its design. She lowers her window and leans in to press a red button.

“Hey, it’s me.”

There’s a loud gasp at the other end, “Hannah Baker?!”

Camila furrows her brows, utterly confused, “Um, no?”

An even louder and excited gasp comes through the static, “Mr. Pizza Delivery Man?”

“No…It’s Mila,” she answers carefully. Is she at the wrong house? She starts to wonder, choosing to reveal herself as Mila instead of Camila in case she has accidentally followed a different address on her GPS. With her clumsiness and her knack for embarrassing situations, it isn’t an unlikely occurrence.

To her relief, she gets a somewhat toned down response, “Oh. Who’s the baddest bitch in this town?”

 “The…what?” Camila tries to clarify, second guessing herself if she really did hear that question correctly.

“Can’t get in unless you aaansweeer,” the person sing-songs the last bit of her sentence with the intoxication in her voice clear as day.

Camila is slowly grasping the condition the person—a girl who she is more than acquainted with—is in, her lips quirking into a grin. Despite it being only two in the afternoon, the girls must have either raided the liquor cabinet or bought their own stash of alcohol and downed a couple of bottles since they have arrived. She takes her bottom lip with her teeth, deciding to play along their drunken game.

“Hmm, Dinah I’m sure.”

“Ha!”

“Wow, and I trusted you, Camila. This is like the betrayal of the century. Friendship ov—“

Another voice interrupts the two, “Mila! It’s Ally!” There seems to be some struggle as the older girl speaks. Camila can make out an argument between Normani and Dinah in the background, with the former fighting against Camila’s lack of judgement while Dinah mimics Normani’s every word in a childish manner. Ally continues, “Sorry about those two. They sorta went ahead with the party. I’ll tell the security to let you in!”

As soon as the gates open, Camila maneuvers her car onto a parking spot, a rush of excitement replacing the dread she has been feeling moments ago. Simply hearing their voices has given her this sense of reassurance that she is still in fact welcome to their little family, regardless of past events. Locking her car, she walks towards entrance porch to be greeted by Ally, all smiles and sunshine.

“Hey girly! I missed you!” Ally brings Camila into a tight bear hug which Camila happily returns.

“I missed you guys too,” Camila says, breaking their embrace. Ally directs her to the interior of the home that boasts beautiful furniture and a floor-to-ceiling height that’s as tall as three basketball players stacked together vertically (an analogy Camila has come up by herself of course). Her mouth hangs open in awe and Ally takes notice at her reaction.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I think beautiful is an understatement.”

“Dinah would be glad to hear that.”

“This is Dinah’s?!” Camila’s eyes nearly bulge out from their sockets with her voice echoing, probably reaching to every house in California. She wanders around the space, only then she is able to catch a couple of picture frames with the members of Dinah’s family. The size of the place would be more than enough to house everyone and Camila couldn’t be any prouder of her friend. They really have made it quite this far.

“Did someone summon the queen?” Dinah emerges into the living room, her make-up slightly smudged and a makeshift paper towel crown on her head. She trudges slowly to them, teetering sideways like a toddler taking its first steps. It takes Dinah a while for her to register her newly arrived guest, and when she does, she throws herself at Camila who manages to balance both of their weights.

“Chanchoo!”

“Hey, Cheechee,” Camila gives a sideways glance at Ally, signalling for help. Although she more than appreciates Dinah’s lovely warm welcome, she’s close to losing her strength and hell, sometimes she could even barely carry herself. So when Ally sees Camila’s knees buckle, she rushes to her aid and assists in carrying Dinah’s upper half of the body.

“I’m too small for this, Dinah!”

Dinah feigns offense at Ally’s complaint, “How dare you talk to your queen like that Allyso—oof!” the two girls drop her onto the nearest couch. Dinah splays her body all over the couch, arms raised above her head like in mock surrender.

The commotion must have attracted Normani since she staggers into the living room, mirroring Dinah’s arrival just minus the launching-herself-at-Camila. And unlike Dinah, she immediately notices Camila’s form and the way her face lights up guarantees Camila that she’s glad to see her as well. Normani rushes to her in her typical drunken fashion and sweeps Camila into another hug, adding a sticky kiss to her cheek.

Before Camila could say anything, Normani presses a finger to Camila’s mouth, “Shh, nap time.” Then she wedges herself in between the couch and a now sleeping Dinah who is snoring rather loudly. Camila’s not sure how but Normani manages to find some space and settles herself comfortably, succumbing to sleep.

Camila and Ally both look at each other before bursting in laughter.

“God, some things never change,” Camila says, placing her hands on her hips while watching Normani and Dinah sleep peacefully amidst the cramped space. Though there are other couches Normani could crash into but she figures she is much more comfortable there.

Ally shakes her head fondly and then observes how Camila’s eyes would dart to the hallway as if expecting someone or another familiar pair of arms to wrap her in an embrace. Camila may have been out of the group for more than a year now but in the given time that Ally has gotten to know her, she could discern very well the hopeful expression on Camila’s face.

Not wanting to ruin the mood, Ally takes her by the arm, “Dinah’s family won’t be here for two days. Why don’t I show you around?”

xxx

“And who says to leave my lonesome on my couch, alone, sleeping by myself?” Dinah bursts through the double doors of the music room, all heads snapping at her direction and cutting off their conversation. Her blonde locks are in disarray and she swats a few stray strands away from her forehead. Her slightly rumpled shirt has some water stains and the lack of make-up suggest that she must have washed her face before coming up.

“That was redundant,” Normani, who is now completely sober after a wonderful nap, comments.

“Needed to get my point across,” Dinah waves her pointing finger at them, to which Normani ignores and proceeds to bring her attention to Ally, who is seated beside her, scrolling through her phone and also ignoring Dinah’s outburst.

“The nerve,” Dinah dramatically puts a hand to her chest, scowling at her friends.

Camila is the only person to apologize, smiling sheepishly at the taller girl, “Sorry, you were out like a light.” She’s situated a feet away from Normani and Ally, resting on an armchair, just by the glass sliding door that leads to a balcony.

“Sorry not accepted, but maybe I’ll reconsider if given a performance?” Dinah squeezes herself on the chaise lounge, again ignoring other unoccupied chairs present, earning an annoyed glare at Normani whose butt is close to falling from her seat.

“Whatever you want, Cheechee,” Camila beams, ultimately accepting Dinah’s request. It hasn’t occurred to her that she would be able to relive this kind of moment again, without her feeling pressured or getting this sense of dread.

“Ooh! Let’s do a livestream!” Ally speaks up for the first time since Dinah has entered the room. She navigates her phone onto her Facebook page while the other girls agree in excitement, with the exception of Camila who worries that management wouldn’t be pleased with this at all.

“Can we really?”

“Puh-lease.It’s been more than a year and we’ve been seen in public lot of times. Nothing they can do now.” Dinah shrugs.

“Yeah, I agree with Dinah,” Normani nods.

Grabbing the phone from Ally, Dinah instantly begins the livestream without warning or introduction or whatsoever. She simply hits record and aims Ally’s iPhone at Camila who looks like a deer in headlights.

“Here we have Walz with Wonderwall.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Normani joins Dinah onscreen, surprised at the increasing number of viewers with comments ranging from a speculation of a reunion to people wondering why the hell Ally isn’t with them, when in fact, they are streaming through Ally’s Facebook page.

“Y’all don’t have to worry ‘bout Ally, she’s too short to reach the camera,” Normani jokes.

“I’m right here!”

“But they don’t know that ‘cause they can’t see you,” Dinah teases the shorter girl and doesn’t even bother to give her some screen time. Instead, refocuses back to Camila who arched forward, listening intently to the base of the guitar as she plucks at a string while skilfully tuning it.

More comments that make up of a bunch of song requests flash before Dinah.

Omgggg pls play a song

SING FOR US MILAAA

MY BABIEZZZ #OT5ButWhereIsLauren

SHOW US ALLY GODDAMNIT

SHOW US ALLY GODDAMNIT. please

can u play an ed sheeran song?

“Someone’s asking if you could play an Ed Sheeran song,” Dinah reads the latest comment, “Watchu think?”

Camila thinks for a moment, internally recalling the list of Ed Sheeran songs she knew how to play by heart. She stares at the ceiling, deep in thought, while the three girls patiently wait for her to come up with a decision. Seconds tick by and Camila’s head snaps back to its position, facing Ally’s iPhone, “I guess I could do Happier.”

“Ooh! I would like that!” Ally claps excitedly like a child high on candy as Normani gives her a double thumbs up.

“Well, here goes nothing,” And just how she does it before performing on stage, Camila takes a long deep breath then releases it noisily as if she were getting rid of all the nervousness. She puts her fingers into position, the other hand strumming against the strings to the first chord of the song.

“Walking down 29th and park I saw you in another’s arms Only a month we’ve been apart You look happier Saw you walk inside a bar He said something to make you laugh I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours Yeah you look happier, you do Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain’t nobody love you like I do Promise that I will not take it personal baby If you’re moving on with someone new Cause baby you look happier, you do My friends told me one day I’ll feel it too And until then I’ll smile to hide the truth But I know I was happier with you Sat in the corner of the room Everything’s reminding me of you Nursing an empty bottle and telling myself you’re happier Aren’t you? Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain’t nobody need you like I do I know that there’s others that deserve you But my darling I am still in love with you.”

Camila stops abruptly and looks up because she’s getting this feeling of being watched by someone else, which she comes to find out is actually true. The astonishment on her face couldn’t be any obvious as she locks gaze with a certain raven-haired girl who is leaning against the doorframe, watching her performance absorbedly with those dazzling green eyes. It’s like she has forgotten how to breathe and speak, her voice hitching in her throat.

“Lauren! Get in here girl! We’re having—oh shoot, Ally your phone’s dead,” Dinah pouts and hands it back to Ally who regrets not charging beforehand. While the other girls whine about how the end of the livestream must have been disappointing to their fans, Camila unconsciously tunes them out with her vision solely focusing on her ex-bandmate and her mind swirls back to the past with memories of their conversations.

She remembers the time when they were having one of their too-many-to-count sleepovers, both of them on their bellies, watching a rom-com in Lauren’s bedroom. Camila is sixteen, with Lauren turning seventeen in a few months.

“Hey, I wanna tell you something.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“It’s…um…” Lauren fidgets with her fingers, brows knit together, “you know, it can wait.”

“You sure?” Camila angles her head so she could see Lauren’s face clearly.

“Yeah.”

“If you say so, Lo.”

Lauren doesn’t bring up the topic until a couple of months later, being in a similar situation as the first with both of them being alone, this time in Camila’s bunk.

“Camz.”

“Hmm?”

“You awake?”

“Mhmm.”

“I know it’s like four in the morning—“

“Mhmm.”

“—and I should be asleep but I can’t so I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, as in a lot, and uh, I shouldn’t be hiding this any longer ‘cause I really want you to hear this coming from me and—oh, Jesus never mind, I’ve babbled you into a coma, just forge—“

“Lauren I’m still awake.”

“Oh. I just assumed you—“

“Just tell me, Lauren.”

“I think…I think I…” Lauren sucks in a breath audibly, “I think I’m inlovewithyou.”

The words fell out of her mouth just as fast as she’s shut them. Camila is in disbelief, completely and utterly in disbelief that she isn’t sure on what to do so she tries to laugh at the situation because Lauren couldn’t possibly be serious?

“I’m serious.”

“We should sleep, Lo. Gotta be early tomorrow.”

Although they have never agreed upon the nature of their relationship, they let things escalate when they allow the undeniable tension between them go loose. This, of course, is hidden from the eyes of the public. Camila attempts to clarify things one time.

“What are we?”

“Friends, Camz. I don’t know if friends do some kissing here and there but we are friends.”

“Lauren…”

“Fuck. You know what? We should stop this. Yeah. I’m tired. I’m done. I’m fucking done.”

“Wait. It’s not—“

“Not what? Not like you’re ready? I get the same explanation for nearly three years, Camila, and I do my part and try to be patient but you do absolutely nothing.”

“…so this it?”

Lauren doesn’t answer, but her exit is more than enough to explain that things between them aren’t going to be the same.

It’s not fair! She wants to scream because her feelings are still a mess, Lauren is a mess, she is a mess and everything is a mess. She overlooks the fact that she hasn’t been fair with Lauren too.

Their relationship goes downhill, down the drain, out the window. Nada. Being in a room with both of them present is like waiting for a time bomb to explode. The situation takes a toll on the girls so they create an intervention, eventually the two of them make-up, but then again, things aren’t the same.

“Lauren, you’re late.”

“Sorry, had to pick up Luce on the way here.”

“She dropped you off..?”

“She’s coming with us actually. That’s cool with you, right? I already talked to the girls and—“

“Lauren, it’s fine. It’s cool.”

“Oh. Then, cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

But it was not cool.

“Wooh!” Dinah’s loud voice snaps Camila back to the present, jolting in her seat. The Polynesian has risen from her seat to stretch, “Jesus, I think you just got me sobered up with that performance.”

Camila rolls her eyes fondly, setting the guitar down to its stand, “Was that your version of a compliment?”

“Hey guys, I have your pizza!”

Their attention shifts to the person behind Lauren who has two boxes of pizza in her hands. She plants a soft peck on Lauren’s cheek, receiving an ear-splitting grin from Lauren. Camila feels this stinging sensation burning in her chest, just like how every time she witnesses that, but she doesn’t let it bother her, at least not on the outside. She masks her expression with a friendly face and a friendly greeting, “Hey Lucy.”

“Hi Camila,” Lucy sends her a smile, “Heard you sing from downstairs. Too bad I missed it, but I bet all that singing’s got you hungry,” she gestures the boxes of pizza at her.

Normani and Ally swiftly take one box each out of Lucy’s hold and they both disappear into the hallway, presumably running down to the poolside where Dinah suggests they eat. Dinah yells at them to be careful and not to drop them on one of the carpeted floors because that shit’s a bitch to clean and follows the two girls to keep an eye on them, with Lucy offering to help with the beverages.

Which leaves Lauren and Camila.

“Nice shirt,” Camila refers to Lauren’s The 1975 shirt under her black leather jacket. It’s her weak shot at preventing some awkward silences between them but it’s better than nothing. Though things are going good for them, Camila finds it somewhat a challenge to maintain her composure when she’s got some unresolved feelings for the other girl.

“You still trying to work that line?” Lauren raises an eyebrow playfully, folding her arms over her chest.

A blush creeps to Camila’s cheeks, reminding her of their first encounter, “God, it wasn’t even like that!”

Her defense only earns her a laugh bubbling out from Lauren, “Can you believe that was six years ago?”

“Shit, that long?”

I’m head over heels for that long?

Camila mentally shakes her head from that thought.

When Lauren’s laughter fizzles, there’s the silence that Camila’s dreaded but it isn’t awkward as she’s expected it would be, rather it’s a comfortable one. She wishes she has more to say, how she used to be when they were younger, when she wouldn’t run out of topics with her. Her curiosity slips out instead, “So, you guys gonna tell the whole world yet?”

Lauren doesn’t seem bothered by her question, “We thought we’d just let the fans figure it out.”

“I see,” Camila nods then points her finger vaguely at her, “You look good by the way,” it’s shy and very Camila-like.

“Pretty sure you’ve already mentioned you liked my shirt,” Lauren is smug and teasing, further easing Camila into their conversation.

“What I meant was, I’ve never seen you this happy and I just…it makes me happy too.”

Lauren’s smug dissipates into something else and there’s that glint in her eyes that reminds Camila of a pair of emeralds winking at her. The same eyes that she swears she will never get tired of admiring. The same eyes that held so much admiration for her. Reminder: held.

“Thank you…” Lauren unfolds her arms from her chest, “That means a lot…Camz.”

And there it is.

“I think I’m gonna go and grab a slice, you coming?”

Camila is still motionless, her own nickname ringing in her ears again and again but she manages a lame, “You go ahead, I gotta call my mom,” which Lauren buys and leaves.

When she is no longer in sight, Camila sinks back down to the armchair and buries her face in her hands. Her stomach is making her uneasy and her chest heaves with pain. But she doesn’t cry. No, she’s done too much of that already in the past year.

You’re doing great, Camila. You’re doing great, she gives herself a pat on the back because, yes, this is part of moving on. It hurts to see Lauren with Lucy. It hurts to see her kiss Lucy. It hurts to have Lauren call her Camz. It hurts to feel hopeless when Lauren causes her heart beat like crazy.

It plain hurts.

But she’s hurt Lauren more.

Lauren, who had been so patient, so understanding and so willing to wait.

As much as she wants to chase her, tell her how she has regretted everything, how she has realized too late, Camila doesn’t.

Despite this torture she’s going through, she knows she has made a lot of progress. She’s proud of how she doesn’t cry herself to sleep anymore. She’s proud of how she can sustain a decent conversation with Lauren. She’s proud of how she can bare to look at them hold hands and kiss while she’s in the room. She’s proud of how she barely thinks about it could still be her.

With the livestream over, she doesn’t believe she gives it justice if she doesn’t finish the song herself.

She retrieves the guitar from its spot and faces the glass sliding door, pushing it to the side to be greeted by a gust of wind. Camila takes in the air, and the shrieks and laughter from the girls below.

Placing the guitar on her lap, her fingers brush against the nylon strings. She opens her mouth to sing the last two lines of the song, but closes it immediately after realizing that the lyrics don’t seem to fit her current situation. Her heart sinks when she sees Lauren and Lucy, hand in hand, both giggling at something Lucy said. At the same time, she’s relieved that of all people Lauren had to be with, she had chosen someone worthy like Lucy.

Unbeknownst to Camila, Dinah quietly watches her out of her peripheral, the younger girl’s heart breaking when she catches the glistening tears that slide down Camila’s cheeks. With the lyrics altered to her content, Camila ends the song. Her lips curve into a sad but since smile, her warm brown eyes never leaving the two figures.

“I know she won’t break your heart like lovers do,

So I will let you go ‘cause I love you.”

xxx

a little ed sheeran songfic for you guys, had this in mind even way before i wrote i have questions for u and i only got around it today

hope you enjoyed it

take care everyone, especially to all those floridians out there

-keeks

[phaniecastello-blog]

Part of their world

((This was meant to be my PC2 but ended up being something different. If you read it I will love you forever!! 

It contains Phanie’s reaction when she found out she was selected, more details about Loretta’s participation at @spencer-schreave’s selection and her opinion on the rest of the selected lol. And at the end there’s a little fight interaction with @victoria-seaberg. (Thank you so much for the RP, girl, I looooove yooouu) Hope you enjoy it, was fun for me to write it. ))

“…Selected” I muttered, with an unfinished nacho with guacamole on it, in one hand and staring at the TV, jaw dropped by the surprise. “Oddio! … They just said my name! I’m a selected!” I shouted this time. My voice echoing in the big living room. I dropped the mutilated nacho back in the plate and get up feeling so full of adrenaline and emotion that I would be able to run 10 miles if I would had wanted. I could hear more names being mentioned on the background, but I stopped watching and I run towards Camila when I saw  her coming from the hallway, frightened by all my shouting. I hugged her tight.

“Cam, my name got picked for Prince’s Nate Selection!”. I broke the hug before I could strangle the poor woman.  

“Congratulations, Miss!” She said squeezing my hands as a sign of support. She was smiling at me, but that smile faded after a few seconds of inner thinking. “… I guess that means you will leave us, right?” I could read the sadness in her face but there was something else. 

Is that angst?

I gave her a frown face, confused; looking for a reason inside my head, until I founded it.

“Oh, don’t worry. I will make sure she treats you all, nicely… besides, she will be out almost every day; she’s busy, doing the new collection’s promos” Camila nodded and opened her mouth to speak when the house’s phone started ringing. She nodded again, this time as a petition to leave the room and ran towards the phone at the hallway.

As soon as she left the enormous grin showed on my face again, remembering my name being mentioned by Harvey Steve. 

What if it was a mistake?! 

The idea paralyzed me, momentarily. 

Nah, the would have called by now or something. 

The sound of subtle bells coming from my cellphone gave me chills. I checked the notification flipping on the smooth, white couch; a message from Lilith read on the screen in caps:

“THE STUPID PHONE DOESN’T STOP RINGING! I will send you all the interviews schedule for the next days… Oh, palace staff will visit you soon… Congratulations, btw”

Seems like the media was giving my assistant quite a time. I smirk, relieved that it wasn’t  me, the one who had to deal with them, at least for now.

“Miss, your mother called, she said you get ready for a celebration dinner with her. She will be waiting at Faustino’s Restaurant”

“Received” I said as I run upstairs.

“Mmm… delicious as always” I muttered while I softly patted the corner of my mouth with the white cloth napkin. Noises of silverware clattering against plates and dinners were surrounding us   “…so, the visit will be just to let me know the rules and the schedule of the departure day?” I asked Loretta over the arm of the waiter who was pouring more Champagne into her glass. He must be a new worker here, because his hands were shaking and he hadn’t realized that was the wrong side to serve the drink. Loretta was giving him an annoyed gaze, but she choose to ignore him and turned to face me.  

“That’s right, just protocol” She answered with a carefree tone. “That day you’ll get to the airport and share the plane with a bunch of immature, exhilarated and most of all, unclassy, ladies” She exclaimed frowning with disgust. “You better know now, all of them will be unbearable; trying to get Nate’s attention all the time; giggling around, pretending to be ladies… ugh! It’s like I’m seeing it, again” I looked down, playing with the napkin on my lap, feeling uncomfortable. “And you will met Audrey, that little hypocrite, sh..”

“I think that’s enough, mom… I just wanted to know about the arrival. Besides, we had talked about not to express that way about the royals” I interrupted her, irritated, before she started to vent about how unfair was her elimination back at King’s Spencer selection. I had heard that story a thousand times before and it always include tons of negative adjectives for all the characters, except for her, of course.  

She was always the victim in the story and I might had believed everything she said if I hadn’t read all the magazines concerning last selection, already. I documented myself buying old articles and watching old videos; everything was there! It seemed all you did in that competition was recorded or published somewhere and it would never being forgotten. Back then, I was horrified, embarrassed of all I read about  Loretta. Several accidents happened to the girls caused by her, but she always made it look as an accident. They were also rumors of her seducing the guards to help her in several things. Like the rats that a few of the selected found in their closets. I wonder how they did to avoid the video cameras, because there was no recordings of that event.

That day I confronted her, crying out of disappointment. She didn’t deny the fact she wanted to eliminate her competition, but she also assure me not all of that was true. 

“…the media always take advantage of some facts to lie and exaggerate things.” 

She acknowledged. Since then she had been focused on her work and I hadn’t know about her doing anything like that to other people. Except for her temper and her judgments,  she might had changed a lot.

“Yes, I know you like her, everyone loves the benevolent Queen, but that’s because no one knows her like I do.” She had raised her voice and the people of the next tables were starting to look in our direction, she probably noticed it, too because she changed the tone to continue. “… I just want you to be aware, bambolina, getting along with lower castes is not easy”

“Well, you will be glad to know, this time there are plenty of two’s in this competition; I was reading their names and basic information on my way here, it was all on the Illéa Illustrated web page.” I acknowledge sipping my glass of champagne. Her face reflected concerning for a short moment. I was tempted to mention that one of her favorite customers were selected, too; but I didn’t feel in the mood to talk about Victoria.  

“You are my daughter, and that makes you the best, don’t worry” She reached for my hand over the table and patted it. I noticed she was saying all that to herself more than to me; and I wished I could tell her I was so much more than just her daughter. Even though, I loved her, I didn’t want to be just the shadow of the tree, most of all because that tree didn’t have the image I would wanted, but I gave her a big smile, instead. She glimpsed at her watch letting my hand go “We better go now, you have to be rested for tomorrow’s runway show”

The runway was a success, as always. The media and the guests loved every single design of the new collection, and I felt like a fish in water, I grew up in this events, modeling at every single runway of Castello’s House; and I was good at it, walking up there, made me feel like a princess and I really enjoyed doing it. Every time I worn a dress to model it I can’t help to thought about all the process it passed for: The sketches, choosing the correct colors and fabrics, sewing, adding details, until this moment. I wasn’t wearing just clothes, I was wearing a little piece of art. The negative part of this kind of the events was that most of the people participating in them didn’t seem to share the same thoughts as me. Most of the skinny, beautiful, ladies surrounding me didn’t even care for the clothes they were wearing, the only thing they cared about is looking good, became famous and get lots of money out of it, not to mention the guests. The males just wanting to admire the models and the females wanting to prove they had lots of money to buy all the collection, even if they didn’t even know the names of the fabrics or the time it took to sew every single gemstone in the right place of it. Those people never able to see beyond themselves. They said they loved fashion, but they didn’t know what fashion meant.   What sad and empty lives. I thought while I clapped and smile leading the models at the end of the runway.

When I arrived to the after runway party a bunch of journalists and cameras ran to  surround me. They didn’t want to lose their opportunity to ask me about the new collection and most of all, the upcoming selection. I couldn’t hide my smile when they mention the last one.  

“What does it feel to  be a selected?, Which was your reaction when your name was mentioned on The Report? Are you excited to meet Prince Nathaniel?” 

I managed to answer every question with sincerity. Everything was doing fine, until… 

“Should the other selected be concerned any rats in their bedrooms? Are you going to be as entertain to watch as your mom was? Are you going to continue the Castello’s legacy?” 

Why did they always had to ruin everything!? I continue smiling trying to break my way through the cameras with Pete’s help.

When we finally could enter to the party I found my assistant Lilith inside. “Having fun?” She asked sarcastically

I sighed “I’m having a blast! Can’t wait to travel to Angeles”

“Oh, btw, your mother invited Calgary’s Mayor to give a little speech about you in public” She said, reading everything on her tablet, which she always carried around, like it was like it was part of her body.

“What?! Here?” I asked surprised. These was the kind of things I had to be informed of, not the rest of the guest list that Loretta kept talking about all the way through the runway, that morning.

“Yeah, Loretta didn’t accept his offer to made you a party opened to all the citizens and commoners, as she called them, so, we are taking advantage of the media here to do this… maybe they will ask you to say some words for the people, I don’t know” She continued as if it wasn’t so simple to make a speech in front of everyone. This will be on TV and I didn’t have anything prepared!

There wasn’t much to do about it, so I just nodded and walked passed her towards the bar, feeling dizzy already. “Hi, Martini, please” I said to the efficient barman. As soon as I got my drink I start giving it small sips, looking at the people moving on the dancefloor. Suddenly I glimpse a tall, black haired girl wearing a dress that matched her hair, walking towards me. I turned around on my bench facing the shelves full of all kind of bottles of alcohol, hoping she didn’t come anywhere near me. I wasn’t in the mood to resist a fight to maintain a civilized conversation, as I always had to do with her.

There were two kind of people who approached me at parties, attractive men acting charming and flirtatious to assure a permanent job at House Castello and ladies pretending to be my friends to get the same. I have actualy take advantage of those to have some “friends” to talk to at parties. And finally, there were,  the envious, pretentious, people who liked to play word games to annoy me and prove my patient. Victoria Seaberg was the master of those.

I was hardly praying for her to ignore me, when I felt some fingers playing with my hair.  

“Hey Stephanie, I barely recognized you with all that hair” Victoria said in a mocking tone. I rolled my eyes wondering why God didn’t listened to my prayers and counting to ten to be ready to try my best to breathe slowly. After all that, I faced her.

“Hey! I barely recognize you sober” I greeted, smirking.

She gave me the fakest of her smiles “Oh, babe, don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to hold your liquor.”

I laughed at her offering. If I had problems with my drinking, she would be the last person I could get help from, not that she was an alcoholic, but I was sure I drinked much less than her. “I’m okay, but I will give you a call, in case I need a tutor” I sipped my Martini. “Hope you are enjoying the party” The last phrase was meant to be a goodbye, but apparently it didn’t seem like one.

“In fact I am. Your mom knows who to invite” She looked radiant, obviously this was his natural environment.

“Well… it’s not like we have a choice, we  have to invite everyone who is involved in the campaign or might be interested in it.” I said sighing. That was actually true, but I said it for her to acknowledge, her presence was not so pleasant for me. I didn’t like me when I behave like that, but this kind of people manage to bring out the worst part of me. I wasn’t going to let her mock me.

Victoria chose to ignore my statement turning around to order a Mojito. I suspected it wasn’t the first one of the night. “How are you liking the party?” She asked.

“You know how much I love these parties, so I’m doing fine” I answered. I knew people thought I didn’t like to party, but it wasn’t that I didn’t like them, actually if I had real friends I would party with them all the time, but when you have Christmas everyday, suddenly Christmas becomes boring and monotonous.

“Everyone knows you’re quite the party animal” Victoria laughed.

“Yep, that’s me” I said sarcastically, proud of myself for being able to control my annoyance so far, despite her never ending provocations.

“Well if you want to become future queen, you’ll have to get used to social events” Her hand patting my shoulder as if she was a friend giving me advice.

My head starts hurting when I remembered she was a selected too, which meant I will be living under the same room as her, soon. “Ohh, I’m sure I will be surrounded by way more interested people then” I had tried hard to control myself, but she kept pushing me. I knew how to fight back, it was in my DNA, I was educated by Queen Bee. I covered my mouth mockingly and continued “Not that you are not interesting, in fact, I’m glad we are going to be there together” I smiled, but it was obvious I didn’t meant that.

She smiled back as a person about to show her best cards in a poker game. “I can’t wait to see what some etiquette lessons will do for you. Don’t forget to bring your notepad, it will help you remember the things you’ve learned once you are back home.” I fight back the urge to throw my drink on her sparkly black dress, but the last thing I needed was the press all over me, asking questions and comparing myself with my mom, again, but Victoria was openly attacking me this time.

Just go away, you are not like her, ignore those words…. Oh, wait, just one more thing…

“Awwe, you always concerned about me, thank you for your advice, I have one for you in return. Careful with those snacks, they can be tricky… and I heard from my mom that designers will be more strict with the weight fact, in the future” Victoria wasn’t a model by profession, but her popularity and beauty have made that some designers invited her to hit the runway just for publicity and she was obtaining good money out of it. I knew that suggesting she was gaining weight was going to drive her crazy, and it did; the prove was she got really mad this time, I could saw it in her colored, furious eyes. “Speaking of which, you will have to excuse me because I have to find Loretta” I put my glass on the bar and stood up to leave.

“Firstly. I don’t have a problem with snacking, I know how to contain myself. Secondly, I happen to do sports, maybe you should try it sometime. And lastly, there’s nothing you can do about a boring personality, which happens to be your case.” I should have known she wasn’t going to let me have the last word, but despite I still could hear her words, I didn’t care about them anymore.

I waved at her “Sorry, I can’t stay to chat, have a nice trip back home and see you in Angeles.” She said something but I couldn’t understand her words, I wasn’t close to her anymore and the music was loud. I walked away feeling satisfied for my job back there, but guilty because I behaved like one of them, and that was exactly what I had been running from all my life.