Michelle's Secret

Michelle

Michelle wasn't a regular girl from New York City. She was only twenty-one years old and already with a successful career ahead of her as a business consultant, working for one of the best companies in the United States of America, related to fashion design. She was the one in charge of dealing with all the paper work about how making a simple and short red dress would cost the company around 25$ and how they'd sell it for 150$. She was very intelligent, the best in her class while studying in the University, and that automatically made her go to work after 1 month of her finishing her studies, earning around 4000$ per month. It wasn't surprising that with such an amount of money per month and a career related to fashion, she would wear expensive brands every day, even if only to go grocery shopping. She believed she had a reputation to maintain, even if she wasn't even the face of the company. That, of course, made her get many girls adoring her, but also some wanting her to fuck herself (but just like love was an enjoyable meal for her, envy fed her anyway, it was like a dessert that she'd get satisfied with). I don't think I could say the same about boys. Their mouth almost literally dropped every time she passed by, and some of them even took photographs of her (without her noticing of course) while she'd smoke one of her strawberry cigarettes in the coffee shop under her pent-house. Still, only a few had the courage to talk to the beauty queen in front of them and even less had the luck to get a tiny smile from her. She was a tough cookie, most of them admitted. But they never lost the affection they had for the blonde girl that walked to work at 9am, with her blue eyes sparkling (they always found it interesting how she was never tired or upset, even when going to work with only 3 hours of sleep), her small nose and soft pink lips, making her look even younger than she was. They used to think she was around nineteen when she first came in to the city. With all the interest for her growing, every boy started knowing that the sweet Michelle was in her twenties already. In contrast, she would always wear a by-the-knee dress, dark rounded sun glasses (is it even sunny in New York?) and black high heels (she used to always wear heels because she believed they somehow made her reach the clouds, when they, in fact, only made her reach 1,83m). All that made her look more professional, older. But her face, her body, they moved with grace, as if she was still 5 years old, living with her beloved parents in her happy home.

Just like herself, her childhood had been perfect. While growing up there was never a moment of doubt in her always eased mind, she always knew her next move without even thinking about it. Her parents were hardworking people, with ideals of family, honor and work and those were the values trespassed to her. They were never exigent with their daughter as most people would think, because they believed exigence comes from within everyone who wants to be successful. I guess Michelle learned from that. During high school, Michelle was the only girl who could balance intelligence and popularity, having not only the best grades in school at every subject but also having her name in every mouth. Neighbors, friends, strangers, they all believed Michelle was the example to everyone in the world, combining beauty, intelligence, sarcasm and manners in her tall but thin body. To her friends' parents, this perfect girl was the synonym of envy, rage, destruction. They didn't like having their kids under Michelle's shadow. They just didn't understand there was no competition in her innocent mind, there was just the goal of being the best she could be.

Michelle didn't know most of the people who knew her during high school. She was always distracted in her own world, maybe too distracted to even have good friends at the age of friendship. But did anyone find her weird? No one. Because Michelle still had her long and beautiful blonde hair (most of the times divided in two braids in the back of her head), big blue eyes (or maybe it was only the effect of the long eye-liner she used) and chubby lips with a twist of strawberry chapstick in them (even though her lips were as soft as a cloud). Her skin was pale and soft (most people believed, but no one had actually had the opportunity to feel it), and her long neck, along with her poker face, made most envied people argument their hate with "her look of superiority". Her fashion style was also different than most people's, which got even more people to notice her. She never ever felt embarrassed with the looks people gave her (and she didn't even know they were mostly approval looks) because she was true to herself. She liked the comfort in difference, so she'd sometimes wear high waist but large jeans with a short top and a necklace of her taste in the day and other times she'd wear floral dresses along with black boots. She was also the kind of girl that her hair never looked messy no matter what hairstyle she'd choose to do that day. Everything would fit her perfectly. At every corner of school she'd find one of the people who knew her but she didn't know and they would tell her all the time how beautiful she looked in her clothes (and most of them even questioned the fact that she never used a piece of clothing more than once) and she'd politely answer "Thank you" and leave, even when they invited her to stay. She had always been like that, some kind of a beautiful but lonely wolf. She believed the quality of a pack was in its individuals and not necessarily in the group. Only after having worthy wolves, a group could be formed. But she also believed that would never happen. There would never be a pack for her. Because she was the only one who had evolved and worked enough for it. She was so good, so worth the pack, that no one could ever reach her level to form a pack with her. She felt like she was destined to be alone. And so, even if she lived in a happy home with her happy family, she left to New York all by herself when she was eighteen, believing that, if she was meant for something big, she should live in the City of Dreams, where everything can happen. Her parents could only accept their daughter's decision knowing already that she never doubted anything, that it wouldn't even make a difference to argue with her. But fear invaded their souls as the thought of their little girl alone in a big city settled in. They were scared she'd lose all that ideal of perfection that she was, that she had built, that she was so used to. They feared she'd find people like her in New York City and that way, lose her uniqueness and all the hard work they had had! And surprisingly for them, that was exactly what she was looking for: someone just like her, someone to form a pack with. She was tired of being the perfect but lonely girl. She wanted to be free.

When her "friends" from high school knew about her decision of leaving, they felt nothing but relief and envy at the same time (weren't they used to that feeling already?). They were happy to lose that competition that had always "ruined" their lives. But at the same time, they were jealous because they knew that, no matter how many perfect people like Michelle lived in New York, she'd always be the best. It was like somehow, the people she didn't know actually got to know her somehow, to forecast exactly how she'd act like according to different situations. But no one knew Michelle like I did. They questioned themselves daily, in their idea that no one could be completely perfect. Some of them even tried to befriend her, just to unveil this mystery around her. Little did they know that I was the one knowing the answer to their never ending question:

"What's your secret, Michelle?"