𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐒

1

The blare of an annoying alarm causes me to jump out of my previous sleeping position. I instantly cover my forehead with regret for moving so fast.

"Agh," I wince out in pain, carefully opening my sticky eyes.

I rub at my right eye, looking down at my fingers that are now smudged with blackness. I grab the blaring device, swiping across the screen to stop the annoying sound.

"Oh my god! You're alive," Leo screams in astonishment. I groan, signaling for him to lower his voice. Who am I kidding, Leo was never good at taking hints.

"I'm alive but I also have a headache," I speak lowly into the phone.

"I'm so sorry girl! I just thought you'd be in trouble right now," Leo replies in full character.

"Why would I be in trouble?" I question. Wobbling out of bed, I walk over to my gigantic silver mirror. I look at my dress that looks more like a shirt with the way it rose up. My bright yellow panties are on full display.  My red lipstick is smudged and my long curly hair is flown all over the place.

"Wait! You didn't go through the back door?" I gasp, coming back to the reality of my conversation.

"Sorry, your security guards would not budge," Leo pouts. I sit on the edge of my bed in awe.

"Leo, you do know that was my last chance of messing up right? My dad is going to kick me out! This is going to mess up my career. You know I have no where else to go! He won't even let me sleep at any of the beach houses after last vacation," I whine.

"Delilah, Dan is not going to kick out one of his 'golden children'. You can always live with Danny, or Nubia, even though you guys haven't spoken in months..." Leo tries to calm me down. Which by the way is not working!

"I'll calm down but first I need a shower. And maybe I need to clean my room," I say, looking around at the random bits of clothes, makeup, and other crap that litters my wooden floors.

After me and Leo talk more we end the call. I clean my room, throwing my dirty clothes down the laundry chute that connects my walk in closet to the laundry room. I attempt to make my bed and eventually get in the shower. I'm not a spoiled brat like many people on the media want me to be. I try my best to clean up after myself but the maids always come and clean what I couldn't anyways.

I change into a random Dior dress that I found in my closet and throw on my limited edition black Dior sandals as well. I take my loose head of curls and slick it upwards into a bun. Putting on silver pieces of jewelry to match my all black outfit, I exit my room and walk down the golden corridors.

I walk carefully towards the kitchen, heart beating so loud I can hear it in my ears. Walking down the spiraled steps I hear a stream of loud voices, and a familiar one that I can't put my finger on. The smell of brunch lingers its way through the house.

"Good morning," I say while making my way to the table.

"Am I looking at Delilah's face or am I looking at her head," my mom comments. I curse underneath my breath because I walked over here with my head down the whole time.

"It's nice to see you too Nubia," I look up into my older sister's eyes.

Me and my sister look similar to our dad. We got the lighter features and the wild loose curls from his side. He always likes to remind us that we got our personality from our mother though. Danny, my older brother, is definitely like our mom. Our mom is dark skin, and Danny is her literal twin. He has her tight curls that are pulled back into a puff ball today, and her light brown freckles that I wanted so bad as a child.

Danny is America's sweetheart at the moment, with his current career as an actor. I guess my dad being a famous director set the tone of our family. I like my mom's humble side though, considering that she is a holistic doctor. But as our father's kids, and his great reputation, I feel I always have to live up to him.

"Delilah, please eat," my mom says softly. She piles my plate with a banana nut muffin, mixed fruit, and some vegan bacon. Growing up I didn't really like meat but the rest of my family loves it.

I eat quietly, listening to the conversation between my mom and sister. Turns out Nubia is opening her own photography studio, which I of course congratulate her on. Me and Nubia used to be very close, all of my siblings were, but with them growing older it seemed as if they had less time to see me. Especially with their careers taking off or maybe them running away from our father. As the youngest I usually feel left behind. With me having an interest to be a stylist or a baker it seems as nobody but my mom took me seriously.

There conversation comes to an abrupt stop before they continue again. I have a feeling it's because of the footsteps that are hurriedly coming down the steps. A heap of papers are suddenly thrown onto the table in front of me and a chair is pulled out at the end. I watch as my father collapses into his chair and stares directly at me with his hazel eyes. The air becomes stale.

"Look," my father points at the papers thrown.

Directors Daughter Goes Wild In The Club

Harts Family In For Some Trouble

Delilah Hart Kissing Girls?

Danny Harts Comment On Younger Sister Will Blow You Away

I look through a few headlines and screenshots of tea pages that are littered all over my breakfast plate. The last one leaves a sharp pang in my heart the most. Pictures of me are scattered all over the place.

"I don't understand how you would ever want to become a baker, stylist, or whatever, when the media can't take you seriously," my father crosses his arms.

"The fact you believe the media instead of me says a lot," I comment back sharply.

"See Naomi! This spoiled attitude is the issue at hand," my father directs his attention at my mother.

"I'm going to be in the back," Nubia takes her lemonade and excuses herself.

"You want to party hard, live freely in a house, and be jobless? So what? You can do all those things, just not here!" He raises his voice at me.

"I'm grateful for everything I have. And I do have a job! I am a paid stylist assistant," I defend.

"Delilah, you are nineteen years old. Not just any nineteen year old, you are a Hart. You can do all you want in your own time. Which is why me and your mother have decided to send you to a house in the suburbs," my father says. I look over at my mother who has a scowl on her face and I catch a bit of shock.

"You won't actually be in the real suburbs, just a few miles by them. I have a house you can stay in, and guess what? It is only an hour away from your home. You can keep your Jeep, your clothes, whatever, I do not care, but you cannot keep staying here with this behavior. I'm trying to teach you how to grow up and living on your own might do you good," he finishes. He walks over to me and kisses my cheek before walking in Nubia's direction.

I excuse myself from the table, ignoring my mom's chants to listen to her.