Tales Written When Poetic

Met at the Gala {pt. 1}

A.N.: I wrote this piece mainly inspired by the met and fictional scenarios, i'll try to look for face claims for my mc and mmc here but till now, use ur imagination. also this will be divided in many parts as its kinda thick for a semi slowburn vibe... enemies to lovers, am i right??

"Yesterday, at the Gala of the century, had a lot of drama going on back stage." The annoying blonde reporter on Enews started off as I bit my nails waiting for it to come. "Including 'accidental twinning'."

There it was. Ugh, I wanted to go and punch the nearest wall even if it will hurt like a motherfucker in church. Yesterday was supposed to be perfect, I was so confident in myself but no. No, no, no. The great, narcissistic Logan Lloyd hadn't eaten his full course. He wanted to leave no crumbs. I bet he was in on this. Her shrill voice continued, "Violet Harlow, the wild child turned A-list actress has seemed to wear a very questionable outfit to yesterday's met..."

I shifted on my overly huge couch, in front of my offensively large TV screen. I was stupidly rich; it came along with life. As if I'd call it that. A doll's life, sure. Being the daughter of a big deal director and a Hollywood starlet, life threw at me enough lemons to start a lemonade factory. Plus, my mom being a second generation South-Korean American woman and my dad is a black New Yorker man, shaped me into a blasian beauty which I'm really thankful for. I had everything handed to me with a blink of an eye. But I wasn't like a brat or whatever. I didn't whine at whatever goes down or had never found a moment where I was ungrateful. Sometimes, I happen to be irritated, but I did do enough yoga bullshit to 'purify my soul' or whatever bullshit my mom puts on her Instagram stories.

The voice that will forever haunt me snapped me out of my thoughts, "The welsh daydream prince, Logan Lloyd entered the gala wearing a stunning dark red dress. Being the anti-toxic masculinity icon he is. Lloyd wore the red ruby adorned Versace dress looking so gorgeous." Blah, blah, blah. This lady was such a kiss ass. "But eyes widened as the 'Just Us' actress entered the red carpet..."

I was sabotaged, utterly and pathetically sabotaged. "Violet Harlow seemed to have worn a suit that was a literal copy of Logan Lloyd's. A dark red suit, also Versace, embraced with the same red ruby stones with a fabulous make up look to match her suit. Violet never failed to look effortlessly amazing on any met, but she did arouse some suspicion yesterday."

Why was this happening to me? Dear God, I've been good all my life. Most of it at least. "In clips we have Violet and Logan eyeing each other from opposite sides of the carpet with shock written all over their features." Fuck, I've never been in so much confusion as that moment. I am unhinged regarding anything related to that bastard, but this is fucked up. I was humiliated, stealing my role was one thing but now he wants to play dirty in the public's plain sight? What have I even done to hurt him? I'm so close to getting up and smashing the TV screen into a million tiny pieces, even tinier than Logan's non-existent dick.

He oozes of small dick energy, pun intended. Of course he was a 6'4, dirty blonde with ice blue eyes, disturbingly attractive male who gets on my nerves even though we've had only a handful of interactions. He always has that Hollywood smile and spreads joy and flowers to every place he steps in, but in my eyes he will always be the guy who shook me to reality. I should give him really, but I want to punch his throat more.

"Sources say that they both didn't attend the gala's after-party. Other sources also say that they have left in the same vehicle." The lows of being a celebrity is that you always have people questioning the tiny things in your life. And if they don't seem worthy of public view, people tend to stretch or create rumors. I, Violet Sage Harlow, confirm I have not sat in the same car as that jackass after the met. I went home so I could let out some steam and go to bed. It's good enough that I stood in front of the cameras for a well 30 minutes to show off my 'ripped off' suit. God if I didn't make that detour to get some cotton candy (don't shame, it brings me happiness) I would've made it earlier than the bastard. I would've been the one who has the impression of being the one who has the impression of being the original. Like I give a second fuck what people think, I often regret those half seconds of hesitation but to fucking hell with it. But I'm probably going to get a lot of bullshit from Andrew.