On the day that most families drank in the joyous spirit of Christmas, the Schröder household remained cloaked in a veil of solemnity. For the Schröder's, holidays were not a time for merry celebrations or cherished traditions; instead, they were marked by a relentless pursuit of prestige and social obligations.
While children around the world awoke to the anticipation of presents from Santa Claus and the warmth of familial gatherings, Amalia found herself immersed in a world devoid of such simple joys. There were no stockings hung by the fireplace, no scent of freshly baked cookies wafting through the air. Instead, the halls of the Schröder manor echoed with the hushed whispers of servants preparing for yet another gala, another press event, another banquet.
For the Schröders, Christmas was just another day in a whirlwind of social engagements, a time to showcase their wealth and influence to the world. Amidst the glittering lights and extravagant decorations, there was an emptiness that lingered—a void that no amount of grandeur could fill.
This year was no different. Amalia was rudely awakened by her mother's sharp voice, urging her to shake off her laziness and prepare for the day ahead. With a resigned sigh, Amalia began her morning routine, starting with a brisk shower to rouse herself from the haze of sleep.
She knew that the moment she stepped out of the shower, her personal team of makeup artists and hair stylists would be waiting, ready to transform her into the image her mother desired. These professionals were handpicked by her mother, the best in the industry, and they had been catering to Amalia's appearance since she was young.
As if on cue, the team entered her room, their presence filling the space with an air of urgency. They wasted no time in setting up their equipment, arranging their tools meticulously across her vanities and tables. With a gentle but firm command, they directed Amalia to take her seat, and she complied silently, resigning herself to the inevitable transformation.
The makeup application was heavy-handed, as per her mother's strict instructions. Layers upon layers of foundation and concealer were meticulously applied, masking any imperfections and accentuating her features to make her appear older, and more mature.
Moving on to her hair, the stylists worked with precision, carefully crafting soft curls that cascaded elegantly around her face. Despite the discomfort of the hot styling tools and the weight of the makeup, Amalia couldn't deny the skill and artistry of her team.
taking the time Amalia posted on her spam account for only her close friends.
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♡ Liked by lamb.bert, gaslyyyy, and 10 others malfunction24: current mood. wish me luck ───────────── lamb.bert: feel you girl lamb.bert: wish I was there with you gaslyyyy: such a mood lordperceval: why do you look so nice ↳malfunction: wow Charles are you saying I down normally look nice? ↳lordperceval: ya kittykat: what are you getting ready for? ↳malfunction24: my mother is hosting a Christmas party ↳kittykat: then you defiantly need luck honey.badger: GOOD LUCK! ↳malfunction24: thanks Daniel
