∂ıятy мαятıηı

↬chapter 1

I jumped a little, almost dropping my coffee as I heard the journalist naming her.
It had been eight years since I last heard her name.
"Deborah Ocean, will be released today, thanks to her good conduct which made everyone aware of her complete rehabilitation"
I was still staring at the TV in shock, with the mug in my hands and just an oversize light blouse covering my body, when two strong arms hugged my hips from behind.
"Good morning , my love" a deep voice whispered in my ear.
"Good morning" I answered smiling and leaving a light kiss on his lips.
I left the mug on the table and went towards the bathroom to wash the smell of sex from the night before off of me.

My muscles relaxed as the warm water started gliding on my body.
I enjoyed that feeling for a couple of minutes.
I, then, started rubbing my skin with a peach shower gel.
While I was washing my hair I asked the red-head what time it was.
My beat stopped for a second as I heard his answer.
"9.30 am"
I was bloody late.
"Fuck, I'm late" I shouted.
I got out the shower and dressed up with a black pair of jeans and a black oversize Misfitz's hoodie.
I spayed a little bit of perfume on.
- All by Calvin Klein; I loved it, it was a soft yet sweet one -
I let my wet hair lean on my shoulders, wore a pair of sun glasses and my black coat.
I kissed the red-head and, with an unlit cigarette placed between my lips, I walked towards the elevator.

I was going to get out of the hall when I noticed the horde of reporters and paparazzi waiting for me out of it.
'it's gonna be... intense' I thought to myself...
I took a deep breath and pulled the door.
I started pushing away all the cameras while I was walking straight to my car.

"Good morning, y/n" I heard the old driver saying as soon as he heard my door close.
"Hi Jim" I answered lighting the cigarette that I was still holding between my lips.
"Next time, I'll wait for you in the underground parking lot
- he said as he started the car-
so we can avoid all this"
"Great idea" since it had been announced that I was going to be the Met Gala's godmother, reporters haunted me more than usual.
Now, don't get me wrong, I was really flattered for the role I had go... but reporters are another level of stress.
I had always been a really anxious person so I was already feeling unpleasantly about that job. My mind then decided to try and predict all the ways the Gala could have gone downhill.
The event would have been in 6 months and everyone was already asking insistently about useless stuffs.
My thoughts were interrupted by the car door opening, which allowed me to get out.

"Good morning" I said to the white-haired old man who was sitting at the top of the glassed table.
I was looking around and I remembered how I had always loved Manhattan's offices...
wide, bright, always with a gorgeous panorama... stunning.
He replied with a slight smile and invited me to sit beside him, so I did.
I lighted a cigarette and let myself fall on the chair.
"So
- he started -
I need to know who'll be your substitute at the Met Gala, you know, just in case.
That person will also be like a second godmother and I really need you to choose someone.
I already asked you once, last week, and you didn't know who to pick yet but now I really need a name.
so, I'm scared to ask but: do you have someone?" He asked already resigned.
"Yes" I said, he stared at me surprised waiting for me to go on.
"Daphne Kluger" I said chuckling.
He stared at me for a while then rubbed his eyes with two fingers.
"The 28 years old actress?"
"Yep"
"Derry eyes?"
"Exactly man"
I said trying not to laugh at his reaction.
Everyone hated working with her;
She was rude, annoying and a little of a crybaby, or better, she acted like she was.
"Why her? If I may ask" the old man said, starting to write something on a post-it.
"She's been kinda of a mom to me and I trust her... I know she wouldn't poison my coffee to replace me"

flashback

"Y/n... Y/n!!"
"Dylan, what's the matter?
Can't you see? I'm trying to sleep... fuck" I shouted annoyed, sitting on the edge of the bed and starting to roll myself a cigarette.
"Daphne Kluger is here!" he said excited.
"Who?" I asked confused.
"The actess, c'mon, let's go!" he almost begged.
I had been living in that foster house for only two weeks and already three celebrities had come to visit and take pictures of them playing with the little orphans.
I was 13 and, luckily, I was old enough to do what I wanted and avoid all that hypocrisy.
"Maybe we can steal her some cigarettes or money
- the brunette boy started saying, trying to convince me to go with him -
maybe she's a junkie and we can steal her some weed...
C'mon I need you for this... you're so talented"
I stared into his eyes a little then snorted, I stood up and placed the tobacco back in its place.
"You're really annoying"
He laughed and drove me to the garden.
After we'd crossed the door, Dylan tried to point at her but I immediately stopped his arm and glanced at him.
I squared her...
High hells, miniskirt, white gold watch, Marmot by Gucci, minisize.
She was rich, no doubt and she wouldn't have been able to chase us even with all the good will she owned.
"Let's go nearer" I whispered.
"Why?"
"I wanna try to steal her something" I whispered keeping on staring at her from the corner of my eye.
We started walking towards her and, as we overcame her, I pushed Dylan down, who sweared loudly, attracting the young woman's attention, who turned around facing him.
While I was on her right, pretending to help her lifting him up, I softly put a hand inside her white bag.
I motioned him to stand up, so he did it.
He fastly thanked the woman and started walking towards the bathroom, behind me.
"So?" he asked, putting a piece of paper on this bleeding knee.
I smiled, sat down on the wc plank and pulled out the loot.
"Holy shit... you're such a talent
- he gave me a light kiss on the cheek -
let's count"
He whispered trying not to be heard from indescreer ears.
"Two packs of Winston Blue, I hate Winston but never mind... 3 gramms of weed, 300 dollars and...
- I stopped a second analyzing what I was holding -
two doses, I guess, of ecstasy"
I stopped talking for a little as I noticed the boy in front of me becoming pale at the sight of the drugs.
"If we sell the drug we'd ford 180 bucks more"
He looked really upset so I tried everything to cheer him up.
"If we approciate her once more I can steal her wallet"
"No, y/n don't exaggerate" he said staring at the drugs I was still holding in my hands.
"You think I'm not brave enough?" I chuckled.
"You always overdo! You always go too far, fuck" he shouted and left the bathroom.
I found out only days later why he had reacted so, I discovered his mother had died of overdose.

I lighted the third cigarette while tears kept on drooling down my cheeks.
I hated that place, I just wanted to come back home; my home...
I thought Dylan cared about me, I thought he accepted me for who I was but, maybe, I was wrong.
It started raining, I didn't really care though.
I stayed there, sitting on those stone stairs, letting the rain wet me.
Probably, inside, people were already having dinner but I had been there not long enough to make my absence noticeable.
My deep thoughts were interrupted by a sudden hot pain on my lips; another cigarette was gone and I was still as nervous as before.
So I decided to roll a joint putting in it all the weed I had stolen.
I needed it to chill my nerves.
I was lighting it when a hand touched my shoulder, making me freeze a second.
I pinched with two of my fingers the index finger of the warm hand laying on my shoulder and moved it away.
I lighted what I was holding between my lips and kept on staring at the rain.
"Y/n?, aren't you?" a soft feminine voice asked from behind me.
"In flesh and blood" I answered with a sarcastic chuckle.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Daphne Kluger" the woman said, kneeling in front of me and smiling softly.
I snorted loudly and rubbed my eyes, which I started to sense heavier because of the weed.
"Shit" I whispered.
She sat down next to me and placed two fingers in front of my face, asking for the joint, which i gave her.
"You can keep the cigs but you know what I need back" I nooded and took the joint back, making her chuckle.
"What's the matter?" she asked lighting herself one of the cigarette I'd stolen her.
"I hate being here" I answered.
"Where are your parents?" she asked innocently.
"Shit, what a tactful question, they might have died yesterday" I answered chuckling.
"S-shit, I'm so sorry" she said, feeling immediately guilty.
"Jail"
"So, hopefully, you'll meet them again one day" she said smiley.
I stood up, handing her all her stuffs.
"No, I won't" I said looking at her deery eyes.
I walked towards the door and said loudly not facing her: "That shit will kill you, you better stop" then I left.