PHOENIX
Sunday. 2.pm. My mother's fashion studio. I'm trying on a dress, which may or may not be the tenth one I'm trying on today. I don't know how many outfits I have tried on already; I stopped counting after the fifth one.
"Yellow looks awful on her pale skin."
"Thanks, Mum."
"Mary, what's your opinion on the décolleté?"
"I'm not sure it's a good idea..."
"You're right. It doesn't exactly compliment the small size of her breasts."
"Thanks, Mum."
She, Mary, and her other assistants start a discussion. I grab my phone, sit down and text Aza, which I've been doing many times since yesterday.
bad news
what's wrong, princess?
i don't think i'll be able to see you tomorrow
pretty sure i won't survive this
is it going that bad?
i've tried on about 100 outfits, my mother loves insulting me, and i'm starving
so yeah, it's going pretty well
how about you eat something?
can't. my mum won't let me bc then my stomach could bloat up, meaning my measurements would change
that's fucked up
i know
why aren't you working?
'cause i'm badass
you mean niceass
did you just compliment me?
i think i did, it must be a side effect of not eating for several hours
is it bad that this is making me smile?
probably
maybe you're a sadist, or kinky
sadist? no. kinky? maybe.
you're kinky?
isn't everyone? at least a little
i'm not
well, you're a virgin, princess
and you're not?
not exactly
interesting.
so you're a kinky sex beast?
i prefer sex goddess
a kinky sex goddess, got it
YOU ARE READING
Her
Teen FictionPhoenix LeFlore: She is alive. Her brother is dead. People are moving forward. She is standing still. He was everything. Now she has nothing. Aza Ainsworth: She is a soft girl who acts tough. She is a warm girl who was treated coldly. Someone made...
