Tattered Beauty (Watty Awards 2011)

Chapter 17

 short chapter, sorry guys! comment/vote/fan? :)

Chapter 17

On Sunday evening I was in the passenger seat of a black BMW with dark tinted windows. If there wasn’t a hot guy driving said vehicle, I might think I was in the car of an incredibly well-off drug dealer. The windshield was tinted as darkly as was legal. Daniel had explained it was to “keep paparazzi from blinding him while trying to drive.” I had to admit, being blind while driving on the crowded, ice coated roads of New York City sounded like a very bad thing to happen. Daniel seemed a little more nervous than he usually was. I leaned over and kissed his cheek when we parked the car. “Nothing bad is going to happen, just relax.” I said.

            One corner of his mouth curved up into a half smile. “You’re so cute.” He ruffled my hair lovingly. “Stay.” He ordered as he stepped out of the car. As soon as he stepped out of the car, the camera flashes started. Daniel seemed to ignore them completely as he strode over to my door. He opened it for me—something nobody has ever done for me on a date—and helped me to get out gracefully.  “Someone tipped off the press,” He whispered in my ear. “Just keep walking.”

            Daniel grabbed a hold of my hand. Incidentally, it was quite difficult to see where on earth you were going when there were a million cameras flashing in your face. “Hailey, Hailey! Look at the camera, sweetie! Smile! Give her a kiss Daniel!” They were shouting. Slowly, they were beginning to close in on me. Why was the door so bloody far away!  Thankfully, he slipped his arm around my shoulders and held me protectively. Restaurant security ushered us inside quickly, leaving the paparazzi alone outside.

            “I think our quiet relationship is not so quiet anymore.” I stated with a sad smile. All hopes of continuing a private relationship had just evaporated before my eyes. I expected this though. When you’re dating the “Sexiest Man Alive” for two years running, you cannot make any ripples in the large pond of tabloids.

            Daniel sighed deeply, “Yeah.”   The two of us chatted lightly over dinner. He grumbled about the perils of working for his father; I grumbled about the perils of being a model. “Oh, please. How hard is modeling? You stand there and look pretty for a few hours a day!”

            I rolled my eyes, “Boy, you are clueless! You try getting your hair pulled out and your eyebrows tweezed by masochistic stylists. You try posing in lingerie with another half-naked guy and make it look completely comfortable.”

            “Darling,” he started, “I promise you I will never be posing in lingerie with another half-naked man as long as I live. You may bet your life on that.” The combination of his British charm and his complete serious attitude made me laugh so hard that I snorted. It was a very unattractive sound coming out of me. I blushed slightly. “You’re so cute when you snort.” He smiled. He reached across the table and held my hand.

            I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue. “Am I still cute?” I teased.

            To my surprise, Daniel pulled the same face at me, thought it was much more silly coming from him—the workaholic, charming British man. “Only if you think I am!”

            We dissolved into giggles. We take turns contorting our faces into the most frightening and hilarious arrangements we can handle. I found it impossible to eat my lobster when my date across the table was making me choke! I slapped his hand playfully, “Are we three years old again?” I laughed.

            “It’s more fun being a kid than an adult. So…yes.” There was a tinge of seriousness to his answer. It was more fun being a child than a grown-up. No responsibilities except to have fun everyday; having everybody believe in you, because a child can do no wrong. Those things all go away as we age. I’ve never stopped myself to think about why all of it goes out the window as we mature. I missed my childish games and the lack of inhibitions. I missed the constant sense of safety—when something scared me, I’d go crawl into Mommy’s bed. Then, suddenly, we’re too big to fit into Mommy’s bed, and we have to go it alone. We learn to brave the monsters under the bed and in the closets on our own. There was still a small part of me that wanted to run into my own mother’s room and be held and loved again.

***

We exited the restaurant in the same fashion we went in. Photographers mobbed us, but not as many had stuck around for us to eat. “Excuse me,” I heard a girl say behind me. I turned around, eyebrows raised. “Could you sign my magazine for me?” The girl could not be more than seventeen. She had large brown eyes and dirty blonde hair.

            “Me?” I asked her. Brown Eyes nodded vigorously. I shrugged, took her pen, and signed the front cover of her People magazine. Before I handed it back I noticed the front cover. “Could I see this for a moment?”

            The front of the magazine had a giant photo of me. The very same picture we had snapped together when I went to lunch with Tiffany, Janice, and Meg. The headline read Daniel and Hailey: A Relationship Unveiled. I felt a surge of anger—one of my old friends leaked photos and private information to the press. I was unable to fathom why any of them would do such a thing. I flipped to the middle of the magazine; more pictures of me, a few of me and Daniel. Then there was a full two-page interview with…Janice. She gave them all the dirty details of our relationship. Not that there were any “dirty details” between Daniel and I—we had a very clean relationship—Janice left no details I’d told her out, though.

            I handed it back to the brown eyed girl and jumped into the car with Daniel. “I am so mad right now,” I said to him.

            “You’re crying?” He mentioned, confused. “Please don’t tell me you are one of those girls who cries whenever they change emotions.”

            I swiped at my eyes, “Maybe I am! What’s it to you?” I growled. “Sorry, I just found out that my ‘friend’ sold me out to People. So…yeah, I’m pretty damn upset.”

            Daniel sighed. “I know it’s tough. You make friends, you have them forever, and the moment you begin to become successful and famous, they sell your story to the highest magazine bidder. I know—I’ve been there. Ex-girlfriends, friends from my childhood, relatives, and other people have babbled to the press about my family and I. It’s a quick way to make a hundred or so dollars. Friendship goes out the window as soon as a price gets put on information. I can’t trust anybody anymore, not even people I’ve known for years. I’m still working on trusting you fully. I can’t say it’ll get better, because it probably won’t, but I’m just letting you know that I’ll never hurt you like that.”