Killer. Beauty. Queen

Chapter two: Through the proud mind of Kira Blackwood

Kira's POV.

The air had been charged with sheer excitement as I stepped into the grand hall of the pageantry bootcamp, Elegance Enclave. The name itself oozed sophistication, a place where the pursuit of painful beauty was woven into every corner. The instructors moved with an air of authority, their demeanor setting the tone for the days to come.

Hair, makeup and dresses.
Lies, pain and misery.
Dancing, singing and painting.

Elegance Enclave wasn't just a bootcamp; it was a stage where aspiring queens transformed into radiant divas. Rows of glossy mirrors lined the walls, each one reflecting the determination in the eyes of those who stood before them. "Killer. Beauty. Queen," I whispered to myself as I looked into one of the mirrors. The entire space buzzed with anticipation, and conversations. Every glance, every whisper was made with the wicked promise of competition, of a journey towards the coveted shiny Miss Power crown.

Every girl here would do anything and everything to wear that crown. As I surveyed the scene, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. This was where I belonged, where my boldness and charisma would shine even brighter. It was a realm of ambition, a proving ground for those who dared to dream big! 

And I, Kira Blackwood, was ready to claim my place at the forefront of this dazzling stage. A smirk danced on my lips as I took in the sea of aspiring contestants, each one eager to shine. This was my domain, a place where I thrived. I strutted confidently, my red bottom heels clicking in a rhythm that demanded attention. People turned to glance, their curious eyes landing on the mysterious girl that was me. Nothing on earth could stop me.

Lara Adams had been there too, of course. A subtle twist of my lips revealed my satisfaction. It had been years since our worlds had collided, but there we were, sharing the same spotlight once again. As I passed by her, my gaze locked onto hers. I raised an eyebrow in greeting, the unspoken challenge hanging heavy between us. She looked away, her discomfort palpable. Oh, how much I reveled in that fearful reaction!

In my corner of the room, a group of girls chatted animatedly. I approached them, confident and charismatic. "Hey, ladies," I chimed, my voice effortlessly dominating the conversation. "Looks like we are in for quite the experience, huh?" Their giggles and nods confirmed my presence, my status as the bold one, the outspoken diva who knew how to command a room.

As the instructor began orientation, I leaned back in my chair, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. I listened, but my mind wandered. I could feel Lara's eyes on me, her confusion was a source of amusement. She always feigned innocence, as if she couldn't fathom why I harbored such a deep-seated hate for her. Let her wonder, I thought, a sly smile playing at the corner of my lips. The power was mine, and I reveled in it. In her pretentious confusion, I held the upper hand. It was a deliciously twisted power play, and I was determined to enjoy every moment of it.

During the break, I approached the instructor, striking up a conversation about something I can't even remember right now. Lara lingered nearby, that nosy biatch. She was curious about what I was saying. So typical!

When our eyes met, I smirked, a silent challenge passed between us once more. People may have thought I despised her out of nowhere, but the truth was far more complicated. As I rejoined the group, I couldn't help but revel in the delicious irony of it all — two former best friends, now fierce rivals, battling it out on the same stage.

The bootcamp held icebreaker activities to "help contestants get to know each other, create a supportive environment, break the initial tension" blah blah blah. The instructor went on and on about the purpose of the training. Whatever she said was irrelevant. Just background noise compared to the electric anticipation buzzing beneath my skin. Her words washed over me, a mere backdrop to the grand stage that lay ahead. Elegance Enclave held the promise of transforming me into the star I was destined to be.

Amidst the instructor's monologue, my thoughts wandered. I mentally marked the faces of potential rivals, those who dared to challenge my crown. The names rolled through my mind like a whispered chant – Lara, Lizzy, Zoe. These were the ones who posed a genuine threat, the true contenders in this battle of art, wit, and charm. The others were mere amateurs.

Observing Lara and Zoe's seemingly blossoming camaraderie, a bitter taste settled in my mouth, a cocktail of resentment and a dash of "I told you so" swirling around. Lara Adams, the master of deceit, was at it again, expertly weaving her web of lies. I had my eyes glued on them, each word she said, each expression she wore, fueling my distrust.

Their laughter? Yeah, that was just her manipulation playlist on shuffle. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard to me. I couldn't shake the memories of her past betrayals, the lies she had spun with the finesse of a seasoned con artist. They hit me like déjà vu. It was like watching a rerun of a show I had already seen way too many times.

Zoe, sweet and unsuspecting, was tiptoeing closer to Lara's snare, just like I had done way back. Her silver tongue had a way of turning even the most cautious hearts into willing marionettes. I had been her victim, believing her sugary words and faked smiles. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I could sense the puppet strings, her every move calculated to serve her own ulterior motives.

Zoe deserved to see through the charade. Maybe, just maybe, she would wake up and smell the deceit, see through Lara's act. And if I had any say in it, she'd figure out the snake in sheep's clothing that Lara really was. During a quick break in the midst of the workshop hustle, I found myself sharing a quiet moment with Zoe. I began cautiously, "Hey, just a heads-up – Lara might not be the best buddy material."

Zoe's brows furrowed, a puzzled expression on her face. "What? She's been super nice to me," she chimed in, sounding a bit defensive.

If only she knew

A weary sigh escaped my lips. "Well, she's got this knack for making people feel like they're the center of her universe. But, when things get real, she stabs you in the back. She will betray you."

Zoe's eyes sharpened, her curiosity in full gear. "What do you mean?"

A part of me just wanted to spill the whole story, to let Zoe in on what had gone down between Lara and me. But I held back, knowing it was a bit too much for a quick chat.

I shrugged, offering a cryptic nugget. "Just think about keeping your distance, alright? Trust me on this one." With that, I left her with my warning hanging in the air, and moved on to whatever was next on the agenda.

The day stretched on, the various sessions melding together in a whirlwind of activity. No one dared to cross my path. As training ended for the day, the sun dipping below the horizon, I stepped out of the grand hall with the same unyielding confidence that had marked my entrance. The bootcamp was more than just a training ground; it was a battlefield where alliances formed and ambitions clashed. The friendship others sought was a mere backdrop to the unspoken rivalry that boiled hot beneath the surface.

Walking home, the evening breeze brushed against my skin, and I stole a fleeting glance back at the hall, an enigmatic smile playing at the corners of my lips. Little did Lara know that the past was merely prologue, and the future was mine and mine alone to mold. In the world of pageantry, only one girl could emerge as the victor, the true embodiment of artistry and ambition. And as the moon hung overhead, I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that that victor would be me. Bite me!