Acumen: Riddling Life

43. Paris, France

Day 64

Arianna pushes her fingers into my hair and ruffles them from my scalp, giving it volume. Stepping aside, she gives me an overall look, studying the long hair strands she has stuck to my short ones in the past two-and-a-half hours.

Turns out, she enjoys having someone to try her wild makeup imaginations on. Not that I'm complaining. I like how she transforms me. It makes me feel feminine and normal.

"Perfect," she gushes. I smile, watching her reflection in the mirror. "We're readying the set. Your dress is in the bathroom and wear the shoes. They will be visible," she repeats herself for the hundredth time.

"Why can't it be you instead of me?" I whine, turning to face her.

She rolls her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "Seriously? El, you know none of you guys are as good as me in photography, and I want flawless shots. It'll be a part of our YouTube videos' intro! And in my professional photography social media account. I'm not risking. Plus, you're in only two other clips that we're putting in the intro. So it has to be you. Quit whining." She spins and walks to the door but halts as her gaze lands on the loveseat. She faces me, pointing at the black jacket Adrien had given me in that insane night. "What's that?"

I shrug, "A jacket?"

"I can see that myself, smartass." She walks to it as she continues, "But whose? You don't have single black clothing in your wardrobe,"

"Adrien's," I mumble.

She twirls her round blue eyes locks with mine before passing the distance and picks it up. Her eyebrows jump so high she appears similar to a cartoon character. "He gave it to you?" she gasps. I frown. What is wrong with her? Arianna checks its collar, and another gasp falls from her parted lips. "Spill!" she squeals.

I squint as I tilt my head and stare at her with confusion. "In Florence when we were running away, we ended up spending a while in an alley near the river. My skirt was short, my feet were aching, and we were going to walk all the way back to the hotel. He tied it around my waist so I could sit on the ground for a while. We didn't stay anywhere in Italy long enough for me to give it for dry cleaning. But I did yesterday when we got here, and now it's ready. I put it there so I won't forget to return it to him," I explain.

"Holy shit," she breathes out.

"What?" I ask, getting more curious and a little annoyed.

"Adi has a couple of borderline rules and goes nuts if you do them. One of them is going near his stuff," she begins, not that she's making any sense, and nor can I find the connection. She sighs as she recognizes my confused expression. "Okay, let me tell you, if you touch his watch, he loses his shit, especially when it comes to the Patek Philippe or Louis Moinet. Combined, he paid for them about ten million dollars, but it's not the money, he's emotionally attached to them. He treats them like they are his babies," she speaks with disbelief. I giggle.

Ten million dollars. All caps lock fuck! Geez, that's a lot!

"The other are his cars. Don't touch them, even if your life depended on it, or go close to them. He will give you hell. I have firsthand experienced his wrath. He was a second away from murdering me when I shut the door a little too hard," she rolls her eyes at the mention of it. I swallow my giggles.

"Then his instrument collection. If you ever visit their house, don't even look at that room's direction. If you lay a finger on his guitar or any of the other instruments, consider yourself dead already. Rachel saved me from that fate, bless her soul," she rambles and I laugh receiving a playful glare from her. "I'm serious! It is unimaginable how much he spent on those. The piano is only worth five million dollars!" she exclaims.