SANTINO

THE GALA

MIA:
———
Waking up in this house had to be one of the worst things I had to endure since being back from Italy. I really thought I could push through it and sleep fine, but then I remembered that no matter what, I wouldn't get a single ounce of sleep in this house.

Not while Leonardo was around anyway, and the problem is that Leonardo is not going anywhere. After all, this is his house.

I really thought that everything was going to be different, I thought that all of my weaknesses would be left in Italy before I came back.

I guess I was wrong.

"Fottuto inferno," I muttered as I tried to zip up the big dress that Leonardo sent me to wear.

I told him I was fine with wearing one of the black dresses that I bought on a trip to Milan, but he thought that the idea was absurd so he paid some people to come over with all the dresses you can imagine, and make-up.

My black hair was perfectly curled, half up and half down. I asked the girl who was doing my hair if she could add something, anything to make my hair stand out more.

She looked through her stuff when she came across a small hair clip in form of a butterfly. It was all silver and it fit the little knot perfectly.

The dress that ended up catching my attention was a red long dress with a slit on the side followed by a trail of lots of silver diamonds. The chest area was my favorite, I wasn't showing too much but I was showing enough.

I simply fell in love with it, I think it really matches my personality. It goes well with my hair too, which is something that I always struggle with since my hair is pitch black.

My makeup was really natural, nothing too heavy just simply because I fucking hate makeup. I used to love it, don't get me wrong. But it's just something about having to wear it and feel it on my skin makes me irritated.

All I was wearing was concealer, shimmer on the eyes, and lashes. Red lipstick I was used to wearing, only thing that I couldn't stand was the lashes. They poked the inner corner of my eyes every single time I blinked.

But aside from that, I couldn't deny it and say I hated how I looked because I don't. I look so good and a part of that makes me want to smile, but then I remember why I'm getting ready and it makes me want to leave.

"Oh my-ugh!" I stomped on the hardwood floor of the bedroom and turned around with a sigh.

"Need a hand?"

My eyes went from staring at my bare back to looking up and seeing my mother poking her head through my door. I smile at her through the mirror and nodded. She came in and I wasted no time hugging her.

"Looks like someone's miss me," Mom laughed as she murmured on top of my head.

Although Mom is older than me, I am finally taller than her. She's 5'3 meanwhile I am 5'6.

I was careful enough to not press my face into the gorgeous long dress she had on and smiled weakly against her chest. She couldn't see me so there was nothing to worry about. "You have no idea, mamma."

She chuckled once again before pulling me away and turning me around. "Your accent has improved."

I nodded with a small smile. "I would get weird stares if I didn't speak Italian, I don't think they like Americans."

Mom brought the ends of the dress together, zipping it up carefully. "You're not American."

"Well, you are." I scoff. "Besides, I was raised here."