Let God Be The Author: Chapter 2

Chapter 42

Elisha's POV:

The set was huge and the atmosphere was completely different to anything I had ever experienced. The production crew was running around, adjusting cameras and making sure that the backdrop looked absolutely perfect.

Large mechanic machines were found scattered all over the place with wheels at the bottom and attached to the robotic arms, costly cameras that were filming the whole process.

After going through makeup, I was called on set where everyone, including an impatient Ben, was waiting for me.

Paradiso Tulivu

That's where we were. On the other side of the luxurious hotel, overlooking a range of green mountains with clouds stretching along them.

In the distance, you could catch a glimpse of the famous, warm Indian Ocean meeting the blue sky over the horizon.

The place definitely matched up to its name of being a calm paradise in Swahili, one of the country's five official languages.

Entering the spacious room with bright, natural light that pierced through the glass walls, I eyed two men talking. Ben seemed to be in a deep conversation with the producer of the documentary.

"Excuse me ma'am." I felt a light tap on my shoulder, pulling my attention away from my husband.

"Hello." The female smiled brightly, "My n-name is Zara and I'll be the main person b-behind the cameras today."

She stumbled on her words, clearly jittery.

"Hi Zara." I wore a polite smile that seemed to untangled the fear and tension in her body. "I'm Elisha."

"I know! " She shared eagerly, drawing me into an unexpected hug then quickly pulling away at the realisation of her action.

"You're even more beautiful in person!" She gasped,"You're so...so graceful!"

My mouth curved into a shy smile. How else could one react to such a compliment.

Its something I've been doing a lot recently, smiling shyly. People would constanty praise my beauty, and like the socially awkward human I am sometimes, I would sheepishly smile like an awkward statue and say thank you.

"Thank you Zara" I replied, taking a mental note of how she was a sight for sore eyes too.

She had a diamond-shaped face with rich, olive skin that seemed smoother than a baby's bottom. Long, silky brunnet hair covered her head and brought close attention to her mesmerizing, golden-brown eyes that appeared like one of a fox.

"I just have to say how amazing your evening gown for the A.W.B.S.S Awards was!" She exclaimed, digging her phone out of the back pocket of her denim jeans and scrolling to find a picture, I guessed.

"You looked like a real life princesses."

Increasing the light intesity, she flipped the phone to reveal the picture.

It was of me descending down the staircase with eyes sparkling and a magnetic smile. I looked perfect but deep inside, I was experiencing a havoc of emotions. I was on the verge of tears, to think of it. I wanted to run away.

Proves how we should never trust a picture. It only shows what the muse wants us to see.

"And as the proud fan that I am," Zara continued, "I decided to get a replica or better yet, remake of it. Unfortunaly, it didn't quite look the same as I appeared to be a disformed twig that was pulled from an aging tree. Like a soggy, wet cloth thats been left in the rain for centuries. I didn't wear the dress, the dress wore me."