not a fairytale

fourteen

 I had started to get used to the fact that the paparazzi were going to swarm to me no matter who else was around. It didn't bother me anymore now that I was used to it again and I was starting to like the attention. Besides, the photographers here were so much more respectable than the ones back home were that would swarm the door of any coffee shop or bar I went into. I couldn't even shop in peace at home sometimes and they even harassed my family when we were going from the church to the cemetery during my mom's funeral.

I looked like a million bucks. I had pair of white airy, flowy pants and a baby blue flowy tank top, and the same pair of clear chunky low heels I with my sundress the other day. My hair was up on my head in a bun with a few pieces of hair left out and a pair of white sunglasses and a clear bag that matched my shoes.

There was a breeze out in the sea that caught my tank top whenever it blew, and sometimes you saw just a little bit of the belly button ring that I was hiding under the tank top and whatever else I wore. I didn't care, I wanted to stand out. I wasn't a cookie cutter boring snooze fest of some snotty royal, rich, or noble family. I was my own person.

I smiled for the cameras and gave them vague answers for the questions they threw at me before finding refuge on the boat with everyone else.

"Lady Lombardo, you handle the press remarkably well for an outsider," Cheryl remarked as I made my way onto the boat.

"Well they're tame compared to the ones that followed me when I was a teenager," I replied, skeptical of how nice she was being but being nice back to her.

"I wanted to apologize for how I treated you," she remarked, almost unable to look me in the eye as she apologized, "I let myself be caught up with Jeanne and her pettiness. I apologize."

"Thank you Cheryl," I replied.

"The Queen was correct in what she said, I should be embarrassed," she said, "My parents want me here, to make up for the embarrassment of my broken engagement with Alexander. I don't want to marry Logan, truly."

"Why would you come if you don't want to marry him?" I asked.

"I don't want to marry him but my parents want me to," she replied, "They're obsessed with their image. I loved Alexander and I thought he loved me, that's why I chose to compete for his hand. It was like you and Logan, everyone knew I would be his bride nearly the entire social season. But then he left and I supposed my parents worried I would join him if not tied down."

"Would you? Leave?" I asked.

"I don't think I could stay away but I would love nothing more than to go with him for at least a short time," she replied, "I understand having to go through this competition as the one person he truly loves. I've watched the two of you this entire time and I see that there's a real connection and I can't get in the way of that."

"I, I appreciate that Cheryl," I said.

"I'm not going to come right out and say it to anyone, especially to anyone who can tell my parents, but I can promise that the immature cattiness is done," she added.

"Thank you," I said.

"Don't mention it," she smiled as we joined the rest of the group on the main deck of the yacht.

It was quite impressive, there were a number of large cabins below deck that were for the King and Queen and Logan. There were a few decks on the boat but we were on the largest, main deck to watch the Regatta.

There was waitstaff everywhere serving hors d'oeuvres. Logan wasn't out there quite yet, I was assuming they were waiting until the last minute for him to board and make his appearance with his parents.