𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈 everyone knows who she is. Worldwide model, covered in many vogue magazines, walked catwalks, and runaway. But people don't know what happens behind the curtains. Despite the many scandals that have plagued her reputation...
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I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to take in the reflection that stared back at me. I was wearing a sleek, black minidress that clung to my curves, accentuating every line and detail. The gold strappy heels that I had chosen completed the look, their thin straps wrapping around my ankles with a delicate sparkle. The diamonds and gold adorning my neck and wrists caught the light with every subtle movement, creating a halo of sparkle around me.
My makeup was flawless, a brown smoky eye that was both sultry and dramatic, paired with a pinky nude lip that added a touch of softness to the overall look. My hair had been straightened and then curled to perfection, cascading in glossy waves that framed my face with an almost cinematic quality.
I looked perfect, but inside, I felt a hollow numbness. The glamour and effort that went into my appearance seemed like a distant concept, something I had meticulously crafted but didn't truly connect with. The reflection in the mirror was an idealized version of myself, but it felt disconnected from the emptiness that had settled inside me.
The girls burst into my bedroom, their excitement palpable. Bella's entrance was marked by a wave of energy. Her hair was straightened, and her gold dress hugged her body perfectly, complementing her gold heels and jewelry. She looked radiant, her smile bright and genuine, a stark contrast to the numbness I felt. Chloe followed close behind, her blond hair styled in a half-up, half-down look. Her blue eyes popped against the white and brown eyeshadow she wore, and her pink lip was the finishing touch to her white fitted dress. Gold jewelry was stacked elegantly around her neck, hands, and ears, adding a touch of sophistication to her outfit.
We giggled as we complimented each other, taking turns to snap a million pictures. Each flash of the camera seemed to momentarily break through my numbness, if only to be quickly replaced by the underlying void I felt. The compliments were a blur of sound, their excitement almost too loud, too bright for my muted state of mind.
The boys were waiting outside, and as we ran towards the car, the energy of the evening seemed to ramp up. The guys were all dressed in formal wear, their attire impeccable. Lucas stood out among them. His hair was slicked back, with a single strand rebelliously framing his face, adding a touch of effortless charm to his otherwise polished look. He looked perfect, and for a moment, I felt a pang of something—maybe recognition of how we used to be, or perhaps a fleeting connection to the past.
We piled into the car, the chatter and laughter filling the space. The car ride to the venue was a blur of motion and excitement. Everyone was happy, their spirits high as we approached the venue. I was present physically, but my mind felt distant, caught in a fog of detachment that I couldn't quite shake off.
When we arrived at the venue, the grandeur of the place was unmistakable. The exterior was beautifully lit, casting a warm glow that seemed to promise a night of elegance and celebration. The inside was even more breathtaking. The space was decorated with a lavishness that matched the occasion, with intricate details that added to the sense of opulence. The combination of black, silver, gold, and white created a sophisticated atmosphere that seemed to amplify the excitement of the evening.
