TWENTY

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M A R Y - K A T E

Surprisingly, the room was empty for the first time since Mary-Kate had begun her process of getting ready. The quiet was weirdly comforting, a nice silence she enjoyed. Only the echoes of her movements or the clinking of her brushes against the glass table broke it up, reminding her ears that there was still life prospering inside the room.

With only less than an hour to go, nerves had started settling in. Her hands slightly shook, threatening to ruin the look on her eyes she was working so hard on. Every time she got close to making a mistake her heart would run up, and she would have to stop for a few seconds to recollect herself before she continued.

Every now and then, Mary-Kate looked at her phone, looking out for Antonio's messages. He had already been prepped and ready for his own show, now out with his parents and mingling with guests. Up until that day, Mary-Kate didn't think she was that nervous about it. But now, meeting them had made her more worried than her performance did, even after Antonio's constant reassurance that his parents would love her.

She shifted in her chair, testing her cut foot on the floor, thankful that it was nothing more than a discomfort rather than pain. It made her stomach turn around itself with nausea just thinking about it and all the effort she put when she was rehearsing to not give up and sit on the floor, crying from the pain. Even after Aleksei's constant worries and begging to just take a moment, she always continued. Mary-Kate refused to let it stop her, and she refused to let anybody else tell her to take it slower.

The door opening brought her out of her dreamer's state, realizing how the brush in her hand had almost touched the table while she was losing focus. But just as a smile was starting to inch on her lips at the thought of a friendly face, it froze like ice.

Tara looked right at her through the glass, not daring to cross the door, her arms crossed. Her expression was a mystery of emotion, one that Mary-Kate couldn't identify, nor did she want to bother herself with trying.

"My shoes are right there." Mary-Kate pointed at her shoes with dismissive eyes, her clenched jaw accompanying her as she tried to go back to her makeup.

"Funny." Tara replied, now finally taking a step forward.

Mary-Kate left her without a reply, pretending she wasn't even in the room, her hands continuing their work. Tara waited and waited behind her, staring at her through the mirror, and Mary-Kate was starting to get her nerves played with.

"If you want to say something, say it. Or else do me a favour to not be looking at your face." Mary-Kate finally said, diverting her green eyes from herself to the woman behind her.

"I want answers." Tara said, making Mary-Kate chuckle at the fact she still believed herself entitled to be told anything. "Why did you tell them not to decide on my expulsion before the fundraiser? And don't try to sell me the 'united front' crap you told them."

Mary-Kate abruptly stood up, walking towards Tara who held her ground. She kept her breath steady and controlled, even if her head was screaming at her to let out all the profanities and nasty words she had heard from her brothers and mother while she was recovering. All the things she thought of saying to her when she would finally see her in front of her, much like in that moment, every time she would step and hurt. But she still kept her tongue in check, keeping her high ground, for she was looking down on her – and for Tara, that stung more than any profanity Mary-Kate could throw her way. And Mary-Kate liked it.

"I may not be a bitch," Mary-Kate started, "But I am petty. And when I'm on that stage, I want to know you're looking. And when Charlie is doing your part, I want to know you're looking too."

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