The President's Daughter (Liam Payne) Book 6

Chapter 3

Elodie’s POV

I behaved. Stayed in my room, doing my own thing instead of disturbing anyone. Didn’t sneak out tonight and hit the clubs or go out in search of my friends. I listened to my father. Shocker, I know. Varshitha spent the day stalking that band of hers. People thought of her as an innocent princess, but she really was crazy when it came to that band. I don’t remember being that crazy about a band at 11 years old, but times change. And god knows if I saw Eminem, I’d be all over that like butter on bread. I took dinner in my room, choosing to spend the night alone over an awkward forced conversation with some boy band and my sister. From what I’d read about them, only one of them actually partied on a regular basis and he just got a girlfriend. Not that girlfriends were a deterrent, but usually when they’re in a new relationship they’ll be faithful. Bummer. Tattoos were a turn-on and that boy definitely had a bunch. Granted, they were really stupid ones. I mean who would get a dumbass butterfly across his stomach? Or the sparrows? Like what is that shit?

Whatever, it was his business. Not that I should be judging anyways. I’d gotten a tattoo that I hadn’t even realized I’d gotten until the next morning when I’d been woken up by a police man who found me passed out in a park at 2 in the morning. That had been a good night. Or at least what I could remember of it.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come down to dinner,” Varshitha announces, prancing into my room.

“Out,” I order quickly snuffing out the cigarette, even though there was no way she didn’t see it already.

“Mom said it was incredibly rude not to greet any of the guests.”

“Well good for her,” I retort, pushing open my window to try to get rid of the cigarette smell. She’d tell on me for sure so I might as well give myself a fighting chance at denying it.

“Smoking’s bad for you,” she says condescendingly.

I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling her to fuck off and mind her own business.

“You really don’t understand the meaning of the word out. Do you?”

“I’m never going to smoke. I don’t want to do that to my body.”

“Well aren’t you little Miss Perfect.”

“I’m telling mom.”

“Of course you are. That’s probably why they picked you. They knew you’d be the perfect little tattle-tale.” The second the words escape my lips I knew I went too far and it’s apparent by the look on her face. Bringing up the adoption was a big no no in our family. Everyone knew, but we were supposed to act like she wasn’t. Supposed to treat her the same and for the most part we did. But every once in a while I’d get angry, my mind turning dark at the thought that she was the daughter my parents wanted. The one they chose. At those moments I’d snap and be crueler than normal. She flees the room and a small part of my mind tells me I should go after her, but a larger part tells me that at least now she wouldn’t be running to mom about the smoking thing.

The next morning, a knock on my door wakes me up as someone brings in the clothes I was supposed to wear. I wrinkle my nose as I take in the conservative outfit. This wouldn’t do at all. I wait for the PR lady to leave before I pull out a small sewing kit I had stashed under my bed for such emergencies. I rip open the seam to the skirt, taking it in a couple centimeters to change it from some loose flowy thing to a hip hugging skirt and cut a whole in the middle of the shirt, sewing it up to pull down the neckline. Much better, I think with a satisfied smirk as I try on the new outfit. Dad would be pissed but there’s nothing he could do with all the cameras around. He wouldn’t want to cause a scene. That was my job. By the time I’m already to go, I can hear music outside and I’ve been called down three times so we could all walk out together. I’m sure my parents would hate that I made them late, but I really didn’t care.  When I get to where they’re waiting, my dad just clamps his jaw to hold back his anger at what I’d done to my part of the family coordinated outfit, before we’re ushered out. Varshitha immediately heads off in search of some of the senators’ daughters she was friends with while my eyes scan the area for some of the chiller senator’s sons. Might as well have a little fun if I’m forced to be here.  I eventually find a few of the preppy boarding school types that maintained a good reputation while actually hiding severe alcohol and drug abuse. They’d do for now. At least until this party ended and I could escape to a club and find a real man. I try to tune out the music playing as a couple groups are cycled through. All of it was cheesy, teeny-bob pop. I’d tried to convince my parents to bring in Drake or 2 Chainz but they didn’t think it was children appropriate.  They weren’t but that didn’t mean that I shouldn’t have some type of music I like.

“Excuse me” I say to the guy I was standing with, who not to subtly was staring at my chest, as I see Varshitha looking up at that band of hers with an equal mix of hope and disappointment. They’d been on for the last 20 minutes or so and should be ending their set soon.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her as I walk over.

“They said they’d sing a song for me, but I think they forgot,” she says, her tone laced with sadness. I roll my before turning my attention to the stage where a bunch of other prepubescent girls were standing around the mini-stage.

“Hang on,” I tell her before walking towards the stage, pushing my way through the girls.

Liam’s POV

I’d been watching her all afternoon. The second she’d emerged from the White House wearing that outfit… I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I realized she was trouble. I’m not an idiot. A part of me was even angry at her for wearing something so disrespectful at a family function, yet another part of me… I wasn’t planning on acting upon my thoughts, but she looked way too good for my thoughts to remain truly pure. When we had begun our set, I forced myself to set aside all thoughts. I refused to look at her, instead focusing solely on the people around the stage. As we dance around the stage, I glance over at Zayn who’s grinning as he watches Emily who’s standing front and center with the other fans. He really was lucky to have a girl like her. Someone who wasn’t afraid of the attention because she’d asked for it in the first place. And she was so good with her fans. Always putting them first. We finish the song and I step down around the back to grab a bottle of water when I find myself cornered.

“Err hello… Can I help you?” I stutter in surprise as I take in the girl’s bored expression.

“Look, I don’t know which one you are and frankly I don’t care. But you said you’d sing a song for my sister so go do that flip your hair beautifully song or whatever.”

“Excuse me?” I ask in shock. “How bout a please.”

“Please go sing that stupid song before that microphone magically ends up somewhere that I can assure you wouldn’t be comfortable.” She says narrowing her eyes dangerously. My eyes narrow in return holding her glare as my own stubbornness kicks in. I wasn’t going to give in to this spoiled brat.

“It seems we’re missing a member,” I hear Harry call from the stage and I know that no matter how much I would rather stay here and beat her at this staring contest, I had a responsibility to my band. I break the stare-down, ignoring the smug look on her face as she wins as I turn back to the stage.

“Her name is pronounced Varshitha,” she calls after me as I return to my spot, fuming. I don’t know why I even thought she was attractive. Sure she wore provocative clothing, but that didn’t make up for her attitude.

“The next song we’re going to dedicate to a special girl. This one’s for you Varshitha. This is What Makes You Beautiful,” I call as the music begins.

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So? What do you think so far? The picture is what Elodie made her outfit look like.

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