#1 of THE E L I T E Series
"No one ever said being apart of a powerful group of rich people was easy,"
*Warning, this is triggering and does include self harm, read at your own risk*
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"Fuckity, fuck fuck fuck," I cursed as I scoured the room for my other shoe, careful not to wake the sleeping male that currently lay on the royal blue bed behind me. "Ah!" I yelped, tripping over absolutely nothing and making a tremendous amount of noise.
The male stirred, but continued his slumber as I cursed, once again, and got back up.
"Stop making so much noise and come back to bed with me Katie," he mumbled, loud enough for me to hear him.
"I'd rather sleep with a llama than lay in a bed with you," I spat, watching as he slowly turned his head to face me.
"You did much more than lay in a bed with me last night," he teased, biting his lip.
I grimaced as he sent me a wink, making my whole body cringe. I could barely remember how I managed to consume so much alcohol, let alone and up in bed with him. I barely knew the lad and I hated his guts. He was a cocky, self absorbed meat head who wanted nothing but his body count to increase. God knows what I number I am.
I facepalmed as I finally found my other shoe and slipped it on, grabbing my purse and tying up my hair.
"Are you sure you want to leave my house wearing the same dress from last night?" He queryed. Ugh, I could just hear the smile on his face as he spoke.
"Fine, I'll take one of your shirts and wear that," I spoke confidently as I slipped out of my dress and heels and put on one of his button up shirts. I rolled up the sleeves and put my heels back on, stealing one of his caps and placing it on my head. "Sorted, you can return the dress to me tomorrow since I'd rather not carry that whilst walking out of your house, the paparazzi already know I'm in here we don't need them thinking we slept together,"
"But we did?" I shot him a deadly glare before picking up my phone and ringing Henry.
*** I tiptoed into the living room, my heels in one hand and phone in the other.
"RULE number three of Rules of a Lady," my mother suddenly turned on the lights, scaring the living shit out of me and causing me to drop everything I was holding.
"No one nigh-"
"NO. ONE. NIGHT. STANDS," I sighed as she interrupted me, "and what exactly did you do?"
"I-"
"HAD A ONE NIGHT STAND," she finished for me, pointing a shaking finger at me as my grandmother walked into the room.
Oh God, here we go.
"Ah, so Queen Slag decided to make an appearance," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.
"Nan you can't call me that," I whispered, loud enough so she could hear.
She looked me up and down and advanced towards me, my heart racing as she observed me, judged me, picked out each and every flaw and thought of ways to use them to lower my self esteem. As if she didn't already do that enough.
"I'll call you whatever I bloody want. Whether it be whore, slag-"
"Mum make her stop,"
"I'LL CALL YOU WHAT YOU ARE!,"
"MUM!"
"A DIRTY, LITTLE, WHORE!"
The room fell silent after that. My father had walked in on us arguing, hearing everything that was said. Hearing all the horrible mean words that played over and over again in my mind.
He rushed over to my aid and hugged me; I didn't hug him back. I couldn't. Every amount of confidence that I had gained from that night left my body as I stood before my mother and grandmother. The wicked witches of the west. My mum didn't even do anything but cry. As if she was the victim. And of course my father left me and hugged her, leaving me standing there. Alone.
"I'm going to sleep," I whispered before walking up the stairs, slamming my door shut and sitting against it whilst the tears wouldn't stop rolling down my cheeks.
Why must she be so horrible? I thought whilst wiping away some of my tears.
My grandmother was a bitter old woman who hated everyone she deemed unworthy of her attention. Or anyone who gained more attention than she did. There was no one she loved more than her daughter, and there was no one she hated more than her granddaughter.
She was a spiteful and evil old woman who was behind most of the reasons of why I was so depressed.
Her only goal in life was to make me suffer.
And that she did.
Bianca Darlington, respected ex-model, author and the star of my nightmares.
*** Thank you so, so much for reading my kings and queens!
