Acting Out [Student/Teacher, GxG]

Femme Fatale

The week passed by faster than I'd expected and, before I knew it, it was Friday and I was anxiously clicking my pen, having completely tuned out the lecture.

"Got somewhere to be?" Caleb inquired.

"Something like that." I sighed in response. I had an eyelash appointment at 1, a nail appointment at 2:30, a facial at 3:30, and a hair styling at 4:30, leaving me with two and a half hours to pick up my dress, do my makeup, and get to the premiere. I'd spoken to the prof of my next class and gotten my absence excused, but I couldn't afford to skip two classes so I'd be cutting it close.

"I expect your essays to be in my inbox by Sunday." Professor Sharp addressed the class. "You're dismissed."

I jumped out of my seat before Caleb could ask any more questions and booked it out of the building, ignoring the dirty looks i received as I darted around students in the hallways. It wasn't really necessary for me to get this done up, but I knew my parents would be watching the press coverage like hawks and I could already imagine the disappointment in their eyes if I was anything less than perfect.

•••

When I finally got home, garment bag in hand, it was 5:45 and I was beyond stressed out. I stripped as fast as I could and tossed the clothes to the floor, not bothering to bring them to the laundry hamper, and poured myself two generous shots of tequila. There was zero chance of me surviving this night sober, and even less likely was my probability of getting ready in time without taming my anxiety. I turned on the loudest pump-up music I had on my phone through my bluetooth speakers and tossed back both shots, jumping in place to try to psych myself up for the night.

I carefully removed the dress from the garment bag and stepped into it, shimmying it over my hips and pulling the thin straps over my shoulders. I looked in the mirror and smirked devilishly at my reflection — just because I'd been forced into this didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun. I'd ignored my mother's suggestion to wear black and instead settled on a deep red backless floor-length gown that clung to my figure like a second skin and featured a dangerously low v neckline. I felt like Jessica Rabbit and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a tiny bit exhilarating.

My hair had been curled and styled into an intricate and glamorous updo, and I finished the look with smoky golden eyes complete with black winged eyeliner and vampy red lips only a few shades darker than my dress. I contoured and highlighted my face in a way that I knew would make my naturally high cheekbones stand out on camera and dashed out of the bathroom as fast as my tight dress would allow. I barely had time to down one last shot of tequila and slip on my stilettos before my phone rang.

I answered the call and grabbed my clutch off of the counter. "Hello?"

"Your limo has arrived, Miss." My eyebrows shot up. This must've been fancier than I'd anticipated if my parents had ordered me a limo. I'd been expecting an Uber.

"Thank you, I'll be right down." I replied, entering the hallway and locking the door behind me. I hated walking in heels, especially when I was already slightly buzzed from the tequila shots.

Stepping out of the building, I was instantly faced with the harsh reality that I'd severely underestimated how cold it was outside. "Fuck." I cursed, wrapping my arms around my chest as I made my way into the stretch limo. A stretch limo for one person? This was clearly an obnoxious display of wealth on my parents' part. Hopefully someone else would pull something even more extravagant and allow me to fly under the radar.

I plugged my earbuds into my iPhone and used the ten minute drive to the theatre to get myself into character. I always felt like I was playing a role at these kind of events. I wasn't overtly self-conscious or asocial naturally but I knew I was quiet and somewhat caustic which was pretty much the opposite of the image I'd constructed for public appearances. I went over it in my head; sexy but classy, bright-eyed and enthusiastic without sacrificing my coy, demure appeal. If I charmed the pants off everyone I met, there were fewer questions for me to dodge. I was never an extreme — I commanded attention but not too much. Everything had a carefully set limit and I had to make it look effortless. I may have looked like a starlet, but I was here on business. Lucky for me it had become almost like a second nature.