The Princess of Beverly Hills

Chapter II

II

Mia Pereira was one of those flappers who were spoiled by their prestigious fathers, and you might suppose that Mia had a spoiled mind as well but this was nevertheless faintly true. She was a girl that quickly made up her own thoughts and opinions and left presumptions far behind her intelligent mind. While she was often misconceived as a dumb doll by the rest of her school friends, she kept a sturdy shade of her own identity, and never failed to impress the more artistic group of the wild society in which she lived. But this young and fragile girl had a weakness for the most obvious thing in the world, the thing that she never seemed to fully understand, the thing that she saw in the everyday of life and which she prudently liked to call ‘love love’. Mia felt a deep desire and attraction towards this indescribable emotion and it made her capable of doing just about anything to feel a small sprinkle of the experience that all men and women searched for in their lives. The older she grew, the more she wanted it, and the more she started to act like a disastrous femme fatale without her father noticing a tiny bit of her changing.

When Mia woke up the next day she felt quite confused about the fact that she was lying comfortably in her four-postured bed which had pearl white silk curtains that all surrounded her. The girl’s hair was so messy and nestled that you could refer it to the manes of a South African lion; and when she stood up on her slender yet attractive legs and looked into the antiqued mirror which stood proudly next to her bed she was even more perplexed about the way she looked that Thursday morning.

‘’Dear god’’ she whispered while she tried to comb out the twists in her hair, ‘’what has happened to me?’’

Mia shoved on one of the suede slipper-pairs that fitted her lavender blue nightshirt best by color and left her room while she was following the scent of freshly cooked breakfast with her elegant nose tilted up towards the ceiling. The girl entered the kitchen and almost slid on her back because the black and white checkered tiles on the kitchen floor were covered with soap and water.

‘’What you doing down there dad?’’ she continued after steadying herself into balance.

‘’I messed up!’’

Mia studied the room and saw a failed attempt of cooking on the kitchen stove, but she pretended a slight ignorance of it.

‘’Why of course you did, but what’s messed up?’’

Steve issued a glance towards a casserole which contained several to-black-burned strips of bacon and lifted his shoulders as he looked in Mia’s eyes with a pleading regard of forgiveness.

‘’Couldn’t you wait?—you know that you can’t cook for a dime’’

‘’I was in a hurry!’’

‘’As always—say, how did I get in my bed last night?’’

‘’Not last night’’

‘’When?’’

‘’This morning!—I found you outside on the bench, totally wet by the drizzle of the dawn, and your hair!—your hair was serving as a birds nest for a while!’’

‘’You say!’’

‘’I say!’’

Steve rose on his feet and removed the apron from his waist.

‘’Come on, let me get us some breakfast at that place on Fountain Avenue’’

‘’Won’t I be late for school?’’ Mia asked curiously.

‘’I’ll write you a note—you can come with me to the studios today’’

‘’How exciting!’’