𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 was raised from the ground up knowing nothing but comparison and perfection.
She compared herself to her successful parents, supermodel sister, and glamorous friends. Instead of love, she harbored a raging jealousy for nea...
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S i m o n e
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Nico wanted to teach me how to cook.
It's not like I suck at it, it's just that I've never really had to.
My meals used to be vegetables and cut-up fruit, rice cakes, and cream cheese. There was no cooking involved. When I moved out, I preferred not to keep too much food in the house. It was too assessable and I didn't trust myself to not binge on it.
He said he wanted to pick for our next... hangout. Date? I don't know.
I forgot about the Maison Margiela shoot until 20 minutes before I was supposed to be there when Kathy called to ask where the fuck I was.
So instead of us making his "special" grilled cheese for lunch, we decided to do Marseille-style Shrimp Stew for dinner. He said it was a comfort food, something about how his mom used to make it for his sister.
This was my first time hearing anything about his family, and it amazed me how little I actually knew while he knew such personal things about me.
And now, at 7:35 PM, I was sitting at his island table, arms crossed in defiance while he got all the ingredients out as I shot out question after question.
He answered each one without lying. It made me feel bad for all the lying I had done when he asked me questions.
"You have a fucking niece?" I gawked, my mouth widened. "How do I not know any of this?"
Nico shrugged, a smirk upon his lips, as per usual. "You never asked."
I scoffed, leaning back further on the stool. "And here I was thinking I was the mysterious one," Nico laughed again but didn't say anything else. "So what was your childhood like?"
He was a bit tense, and I could tell he didn't appreciate all of the family-based questions. But I didn't really know what else to ask. The more he deflected the more nosy I got.
