earned it [h.s.]

8.

tbh i don't live in london and i've only been there a few times. this is fiction and i have no idea what i'm writing lmao hahaha i do some research for the books that i write but just don't read into details too much if they're off :)

I was freaking out.

I had signed the contract and the last I had seen of Mrs. Hilton was how she hissed at Ezra and I and walked out of Lotus, seeming less than pleased. I stayed at the bar the rest of the night until Ezra didn't allow Sky to pour me any more drinks. He knew of my destructive relation with alcohol and saw to it that I got home safely that night when I could hardly stand on my legs.

What surprised me most of all was how he called me the next day, saying that Mrs. Hilton had requested my presence already for that night. Opening my door, there was a package there. Carrie – curious as always – was near opening it by herself until I caught her and raised up an eyebrow. She shot me a sheepish look and shrugged, blaming her pregnancy brain into thinking it was something for her.

I dragged the package inside, away from Carrie's meddling, and opened it up to find a variety of lingerie and clothing inside. More fancy and expensive than anything I'd ever own myself. It came with a note from Mrs. Hilton, who asked specifically that I wore the black dress tonight.

She must've asked Ezra to drop it here because my address was still a mystery to her.

I had to admit it was a tight fit for me and I couldn't help but wonder if it was another subtle dig at my weight. I didn't really consider myself heavy. I had thighs and rolls and dips and curves, muscles and fat. I considered myself to have a pretty normal body, but she was a supermodel so I'd always look like a bag of shit next to her.

Somehow, the idea that I was meeting her husband for the first – well, second – time tonight, made me even more nervous. Mr. Styles seemed less than pleased last time we saw one another in Mrs. Hilton's office. He called me a whore and was seething at his wife, which I couldn't exactly blame him for. From the short fight I had heard between them, it was obvious that Blair didn't include him in the decision making process of hiring me.

Of course the guy was surprised.

The hours of the day dragged on as I tried hard to keep myself busy. It was actually kind of a beautiful day, so I headed towards the nearby park with my book and my blanket, reading a little bit to pass the time and keep my mind off things. Last night was a power play between me and Mrs. Hilton, but today I'd follow her wishes.

Not only was I nervous in the first place about spending time with the Hiltons and attending this event with them, I was also a little nervous about the stunt I pulled last night. Without the environment of Lotus around me, my confidence crumpled quickly and I was a mere shell of Sloane.

And the worst thing was that Blair didn't want me to be Sloane, she wanted me silent and obedient, like me.

Finally I decided to get ready, putting on my signature red lipstick that Mrs. Hilton seemed to like so much. I tugged firmly on the black dress, noticing how my boobs almost spilled out yet somehow I looked classier than I had ever done before. It wasn't necessarily wide or long, I wasn't sure what it was. Maybe the luxurious fabric and detailing on it just made it look nicer than any other black dress I had ever worn.

I wore a cute set of lingerie underneath, those sizes she did get correct. She got mostly stuff in my signature colours, which were yellows and oranges or soft reds. I wasn't sure if tonight was going to lead to anything – sexually – but she did ask me to pack an overnight bag.

I put in some skincare stuff, my toothbrush and clothes for the next day.

I texted Ezra and Paul, enabling them to track my phone as I set foot out of my apartment. In my fancy dress, I took the tube up to Knightsbridge. The closer I got, the more I blended in with my dress and high heels. I hadn't often been in this part of London but it was clear as day that I didn't belong here. I smiled politely at people on the street, who kind of mostly shot me dirty looks back.