Cupcake & I

32

pov : aira

Tripping in front of very famous and successful multi-billionaires does not feel good at all.

I wanted to cry when I entered the bathroom and looked at my creamy feet. On the positive side, my face was saved at the last minute by my knight in shining armour. His hand had circled around my waist, holding me up in an instant with a very concerned face. Anger shone brightly on his face as he glared daggers at the wide-eyed waiter who was now holding an empty tray. The funny thing was that, the waiter didn't look like he was sorry for making the pie fall at all. Not a word of apology was muttered from his mouth when he glanced my way. I ignored him anyway, knowing very well that Oliver would take care of him. Note the sarcasm.

If looks could kill, he would have gone six feet under by now. I made Oliver let go of me and walked through the crowd in search of a bathroom. I took off my high heels and walked barefoot along the cold merciless marble floor and ignored the stares of the judgemental rich society around me. My cheeks were warm from the embarrassment I had just faced.

Is this how Jennifer Lawrence felt when she tripped in front of famous actors and actresses? I feel you Jennifer Lawrence.

I walked through the crowd, knowing that I was leaving a creamy trail behind me. Reaching the bathroom door, I shut the door behind me and rested my back against it, wanting to disappear from the face of the earth. I brushed the thoughts away.

Stay positive. It was just a trip. It's not the end of the world.

"Well, look at who it is girls." A familiar voice reached my ears and I cursed under my breath, ignoring her and walked over to the sink. All the girls around me guffawed as they took in my lower appearance.

"Where did she get that dress from? The thrift shop?" A girl commented and a row of laughter followed behind. I ignored them, knowing very well that they were only jealous of the dress and continued wiping the pie off my high-heels.

"Hi." Vanessa stood beside me, looking very amused. "From the other side of the society where the higher paid classy non-clumsy folk are from."

My head turned around sharply at her statement and I narrowed my eyes at her. I could see two other girls standing beside her, with their hands on their hips. All three of them looked very much like the cliché mean girls, spoiled by riches and popularity. "If you have a problem with me, why don't you write it nicely on a piece of paper, put it in an envelope, fold it up and shove it up your ass." I fired back and threw the piece of crumbled tissue paper in the dust bin.

Her smile turned into a nasty scowl. "Watch your mouth. Being the famous fiancé of Oliver Hale," she looked down at the ring on my finger, a twinge of jealousy glinted in her eyes, "You wouldn't want a bad reputation now, would you?" She arched her perfectly shaped right eyebrow up and I scoffed. "Especially when you are already pulling his reputation down by being a gold-digging poor bitch."

"At least I never slept my way to the top." I said sharply, trying to control the anger building up inside of me. My anger would only maker her happy. Bitches like her feed on it. I should be calm. "Maybe if you ate some of that make-up caked up on your face, you could be pretty on the inside too."

She scowled. "This is not a competition bitch. Your insults are not working."

"It's not a competition. But, if it were, I would definitely be winning." I said smugly.

"Shut up bitch. Be careful with who you are messing with. You are just a piece of dust to me and everyone here." She gave me a smile and I rolled my eyes.

I smiled at her. "Very interesting. Let me just write that on the list of things that I don't give a shit about." I smiled again, showing the prettiest and kindest smile I could afford. "Don't mistake this fake smile and professional body language. I would punch you in the throat if we were not in a party." Her body was trembling with anger and she seemed like she wanted to scream and skin me alive with her long and scary pink manicured fingernails. Looks like she is finally out of ammunition.

"Now, if you would excuse me, I have got some cleaning to do, unless you need some help with cleaning your shitty mouth which your ass might probably be jealous of, considering the amount of shit that is spewing out of your mouth, you can sway your ass out of here happily." I turned and made the tissue wet to wipe it across my feet. Three high-heels clad feet walked out of the bathroom and I sighed, already feeling tired and worn out.

With a crazy bitch here, a crazy bitch there. Here a bitch, there a bitch, everywhere a crazy bitch!

"Wow. I'm impressed." I perked up immediately at the mature and kind voice from behind me. A woman, with short brown hair and warm brown eyes, looked at me through the mirror with an amused smile on her face. Her face was made up with discrete make-up except her lips that are cherry red. She seemed like she had the reputation of being very intellectual. "That was marvellous. I'm awarding a 10." She held ten fingers up.

Her sentence and comment had driven me completely to a frozen mode as I was not expecting that at all. Especially when she looked almost thirty-five years old. But she was definitely not the age I'm assuming her to be. She was much older than what she appeared like. She was rich, I could tell by her appearance and that sparkling diamond bracelet that adorned her once flawless skin which now seemed withered with age. Maybe she was one of those rare rich people who are non-judgemental.