Paris|| Pierre Gasly

One

I am aware that that is the Grand Budapest Hotel lol

Unedited

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Willow- that's the name given to me by my parents. They gave me the name Willow because of my father's childhood. Behind his house was a field and stood at the middle was a willow tree. Sitting on the base of the tree, leaning on its trunk, was my mother. There they met.

Both my parents were born from privileged families. My father is a pilot and businessman. Every boy from his side of the family is a pilot. That is why they sent my brother to flying school after he graduated from University. It's a good thing my brother wanted to be a pilot. He says I could be a pilot if I wanted to, but declined the offer.

My mother on the other hand is the sister of Gianni and Donatella Versace. She stays at home while she does her work, which is a runway fashion designer.

But after my uncle Gianni died, both agreed to move to a place far away from Milan or even Italy for that matter. So they moved to Singapore, the birthplace of my father before he migrated to Milan.

They adjusted well in Singapore and I too acted as if I was a native of the country after I was born. Because of fear, they wanted my mother's maiden name to be as low key as possible. I was expected to be as successful as both my parents. They enrolled me to a private school which they think would help me be successful in the future.

As privileged as I am, I do not like it when both decide on my future, what I want to be, and where I want to live. So I talked to them with caution regarding my plans on-

"Having a gap year?!"  My mother exclaimed. Her eyes were wide from shock. I played with my fingers and looked down at the marble floor. Maybe I shouldn't have said that?

"We support you in every decision you make," I scoffed quietly as my father said that, "but a gap year? You're wasting a full year of what is suppose to be college education."

"It'll give me time to decide on my course." I replied.

"Haven't you decided on it already?" He then recognises and mentions the things I am good at, which are the cinematic, digital, visual arts.

"Well, if I take an arts or cinema course, it would be hard for me to make money. As you may know, it's hard to get an audience in the arts market." I said. Because in this family what I learned is, it's all about the money.

"If that's what you're passionate about then go ahead. We'll help you get an audience." I frowned. I did not say I was passionate about them.

"Dad, some people are not passionate about what they are good at and some are passionate about what they aren't good at." I continued, "And that's what I am trying to find."

We stayed quiet. I pondered about their replies on what I just said. My mother cleared her throat, "We'll decide on this after your father's sponsorship dinner this Saturday." She stood up from the couch and left to make supper. That evening, I haven't spoken a word.

"Here's some hot milk, Willow." One of my maids offered. I smiled and took the cup from her. She always knew how to make me feel better.
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Saturday, 17:00.

"Willow, your mother told me to give this dress to you." The same maid said to me as she came into my room. She handed it over to me. I smiled and unfolded the dress. A black strapless chiffon dress that ends approximately on the knee. My mom may be old, but she isn't a designer for nothing.

"Okay well at least it isn't bedazzled this time." I looked at her as I said it.

"Please, you'd look good in anything, Willow." She replied. I made a face that revealed all it's creases and a double chin. "Keep trying to make yourself look bad and your face will adapt to it."

"I'd have to call a plastic surgeon then." I joked, "I hope I would not end up like my aunt." Her eyes widen from the joke I just said. She was trying not to laugh.

"Don't tell my mum I said that. Donatella is fabulous." She nods and chuckles then exits my room.

I took off my shirt and sweats after I looked for a strapless bra. I slipped the dress in and checked myself out in the mirror. "I need more meat in me." I mumbled. My mom, who is used to seeing runway models apparently wants her daughter to look like one. But not to the point where I was just skin and bones. My heavy lunch has got to show as well.

I took one last glance at myself in the mirror then applied deodorant. I applied light neutral makeup and placed my hair behind my ears. After my preparations, I went downstairs and munched on blue berries while waiting for my parents.

"Well done on your makeup." My mother appeared on top of my stairs. "I'm sure the boys in our dinner later will be head over heels for you." I rolled my eyes but thanked my mom.

"They're just your age you know." my dad then said as he walked down the stairs. He paused, "How old are you, again?"

I laughed lightly and said, "Nineteen-"

"Too old to be single," he claimed, obviously joking just to mess with me. But ouch, okay- well he did have his first girlfriend at fifteen. But this was odd from my father. He usually does not like the sound of boys wooing me. He threatens most of the boys who took me out on dates. Now that I think about it, that's probably why my past dates did not last long.

"Let's head off." My mom says and we walked out the door after I put on my heels.

I head to our sedan Honda but before I could ask them to unlock the door, my father says, "No, no. We're taking the Rolls Royce." how important was this dinner?

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We arrived in front of a hotel. We got out of the car and my dad handed the keys to a Valet. Once we got in the glamorous hotel, I looked around and I see the glitterati scattered everywhere checking in and out of the place.

A man dressed in full tuxedo-like my father-approached us.

"Mister Alexander Major! Good evening."He greets my father and shakes his hand. He then looks at my mother and greets her as well. "Madame Patricia Major, looking good as always. Buona sera!" He then looked at me, and smiled that represented a proud father. "And this must be Miss Willow Major." He shook my hand.

"Yes and thank you, Alfred." My mom said, "Do you mind showing us to the venue?"

"Not at all, Madame. Right this way then," he walked to this grand staircase covered with soft carpet. As we stepped up the last step, we went to the right corridor being lit by small crystal chandeliers. He stopped by a gold and red door which I assume is our VIP table.

"Here we are." He opens the door that revealed a modern VIP dinning lounge. The walls are basically made out of windows with grey curtains being fixed to the side. A long glass table and velvet cushioned chairs. The whole room looks like a whole year's worth of wage.

"This is what fun looks like, Willow." My dad smirked as he said this to me. "Sometimes it involves a huge amount of money."

I looked around, people sat on the chairs looked at me and my parents. I took note of what my dad said and smirked.

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Sorry that it's short. BUT OI OI OI PIERRE GOT P4 AT BAHRAIN IM SCREAMING YES BIIIITCH. SO PROUD OF OUR PEAR,,,, ALSO BAHRAIN WAS INTENSE. HATS OFF TO VETTEL FOR THAT SPECTACULAR PERFORMANCE WITH ONLY ONE PIT STOP AND GOING ON SOFTS MOST OF THE RACE. MY HEART RATE WAS RISING EVERY TIME DRS IS ON.

I SHOULD STOP BABBLING, MY AUTHOR'S NOTE IS LONGER THAN THE ACTUAL CHAPTER.

CIAO