FROM THE UNDERWORLD: QUEEN OF HELL.

CHAPTER 2.

                             

                           MEET SEPHORA FAYWAVER.

** 16 Years Later: Sephora, 18 years old.
Alia, 36 Years Old.

SEPHORA'S POV.

I've been moving in and out of continents, countries, states, cities & towns like a damn duck for as long as I can remember by my mother dearest.
We recently just moved to Los Angeles, where, "stars shineeeee," She had said when she was trying to convince me that coming here would be the best thing ever and additionally saying we won't ever move again. I still don't know if I was stupid, clever or maybe both for believing that.
It's roundabout April and we've already moved 2000 times!
4 months into the year! Which makes this move the 2001th move.

"We're in HOLLYWOOD!" She squeals when the plane lands, I exhaled and kept it moving.

~~~

It's been 2 weeks now since we've left Canada for LA, it's a great start believe it or not. We usually exit from a place without looking back twice.. within a week.

Shocked? Yeah, me too. I got used to it though.

I miss Canada already, it's the only place we actually stayed the longest. No place we've ever been to will ever match Toronto. The vibe there was just.. extraordinary.

Now here we are in LA, living in a gorgeous manor, far out, in a quiet and secluded area. She chose not to go out this time around- she's a monied woman. The old money plus modern money type of monied.. so yes. I'm surprised she didn't go all out.

Not too surprised though as the goal has always been to never draw attention, never ever draw attention. That's how I've lived my whole life, unable to be normal for 18 years of my life. Living like this has surely made it feel longer.

I never really had a stable childhood-teenage life. I mean like, have a silly crush, sleep over at a friends place- man I never even had friends to begin with, never fell in love.. you know the usual cringe teenage shit.

I've been undercover ever since she's had me, call me KC at this rate.

I wore wigs to cover my hair, contacts to cover my eyes. I felt like a monster, in hiding.

I attended little to absolutely zero parties in high-school, never wore my designer clothing, stayed out of trouble, never even showed through with my spectacular car collection.

At some point she even home-schooled me. The living audacity of this woman.

Top notch learning facilities at that- so much for not "attracting attention" right?

Hiding from the world for no apparent reason & the only explanation I ever got from her was a panty pitiful, "It's for your own safety."
That's what she said after the millionth time of me asking. I had made no attempt of being persistent with the questions after that.

I would understand if she told me we are part of a Mafia with all these car fanatics boyfriend's of hers- stupid but it would better, a reason as to why I have to live like a fugitive on the run.

I mostly grew up around her big shot racer boyfriends, like F1 drivers. The likes of Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris.. etc etc.

Yeah yeah, I know, my mom's quite the catch.

She's had tons of them, they were never bad and with them I grew up in a world of cars. The danger, the fuel, engines, fumes, dirt- excited me to the core!

Her many boyfriend's- including herself taught me how to drive, showed me what is the life of a car. Formed me for the life of 4 wheels.. grade A driving. Taught me how to fix engines, change a tire, oil leak, break pads.. how to even modify a car!
Those moments I'll forever cherish.

I can barely remember my life from the ages of 5-17 years old.. everything went by in a haze like blur. I remember but I also don't, it even hurts to try and gather everything from those ages in my life.

Although, I vividly remember everything changed when I turned 10. I mean drastically changed.
On the other hand, maybe everything had always been like this but I just never realized. I sigh at the thought.

My mother would sleep with her windows and doors locked, weary of everything she does around me. No more car boyfriend's, no more of the little outside world time we had. No more racing too.. broke my heart for real.

That's when the continuous moving around from place to place started. The lock down began.

I would think perhaps my mother hated me for having me at 20.. maybe she thought I took her life away.
From the age of 10, I was stuck in misery, moving further and further away from humanity with a mother I thought wanted nothing to do with me. She would try cheer me up, buy me cars, toys, clothes.. but the joy never lasted as I always thought, 'Why my life? Actually.. why me?'

Growing up and dwelling in my loneliness, I continued my love for cars- the racing part even more so.. but secretly. She would murder me if she found out I still race, of which I've doing for the 2 weeks that we've been in LA and also back in Canada.
I really hope she hasn't caught me yet, I can't die now. I laugh.

I lie to her about racing because of course she obviously says, "it's not safe." Without giving me any reason for the "unsafeness" of it.
But I never liked safe anyway.

I buy sports & luxury cars like monthly- okay I'm lying.. maybe every 2 weeks, of which she doesn't mind.
I have a black card and a former car lover for a mother, I'm the luckiest aren't I?

Between those moving ages, I occupied myself with obtaining highest academic records to get in a good college. Taking part in sports, learning new- handy skills. Mostly to do with cars.. and racing. That's where my head has always been, always.

~~~

I breathe in the cool air of my new bedroom, exhaling a satisfied breath at the black and blood-red interiored space.
I'm already in my silk pajama set, all that's left is to brush my teeth. I do exactly that so then afterwards I can lay my head to rest.

Finishing off and closing the top, I come to face my reflection in my mirror. Staring straight into my silver-grey red rimmed eyes. My hair thrown into beautiful well kept thick curls around my face, hair reaching down below my knees.

Perks of being a rare redhead, right?

I wonder why my mother makes me hide such beautiful hair.
A frown appears on my face but I quickly wave it off and jump on my Egyptian cotton bed.

I've moved across the whole world surely, from penthouses, living with monarchs, sleeping in castles of Kings and Queens, I hope finally, LA, is our last stop.

I want to be a little bit more normal. I mean, I officially start college in a few weeks time & then I turn 19 in 4 months time.
She can't now pick and drop me like I'm still a child, this must come to end.

You're such a lonely bitch Sephy,
my subconscious mocks me,
I know mother fucker, I roll my eyes. Finally drifting off to sleep.
I wish I had a turn of events.

~~~

That's it again for today my demons!

What do y'all think about Sephora?

Y'all like her, because I do.

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