Paparazzi Girl

13. Not Alone

The sweet aroma of the teriyaki fish Stella was cooking surrounded the house, making her sniff the air frequently. She stirred the rice she was making, only a couple more minutes and it would be ready. She pushed her loose hair to the side, the strands that kept falling down distracted her from the food. Why didn't she put it in a ponytail again?

She went to the cabinet beside her, taking out two plates that were set in four rows each. Cups were set on the next door cabinet. A sudden key rattled in the doorknob, warning her that her mother was home. Today, she haven't gone anywhere, needing to just stay out of the world outside. Tears would constantly fall down her eyes. But she would just wipe it off and continue with whatever she was doing. Chores, the dishes, reading, watching TV, viewing her old pictures of her father, that would only make her break down into tears as well. It was just too painful. The door opened, letting her mother enter the door while she almost bumped into the bookcase behind her. She was wearing a simple brown shirt - dull. Black shorts and shoes.

Dull.

"Hey," Stella greeted her, trying her best to smile for the first time today.

She jumped up, her pink purse which was on her shoulder flying up too. She looked at Stella for a minute, just noticing her existence in the house. A small frown made its way onto Stella's face, realizing her mom didn't know she was even here. It's as if she were invisible.

"Hello," she said carelessly, setting down the silver keys dangling from her fingers.

She came towards Stella, studying the food she had made for her. She sniffed a couple times, but she couldn't tell if she liked it or not, her face was always emotionless and straight. She sat down, ripping up the envelopes in her hand which Stella had just noticed were there. She grabbed the light green plates that were full with fish and fried rice, smoke rising. Stella set it down in front of her, before taking a seat of her own and grabbing the fork before trying it. The sweet, tasty taste satisfied her taste buds.

"So, how was work?" Stella asked her before taking another bite.

She studied her appearance, noticing she had no makeup on. Her face was plainly beautiful, makeup or not. Her green eyes just stood out, no makeup needed to make them any more bold. Her eyelashes almost touched her eyebrows.

She didn't speak, her eyes so focused on the paper, that apparently, her ears forgot to work. Stella slapped a hand on hers, snapping her out of her concentration. Was she really that invisible to her?

"I said, how was work?" She repeated, letting go of her wrist.

She nodded her head and said, "Okay, nothing new. I still have more vacation time."

That meant no clients, which meant no money coming in.

Please don't make me pay the bills. Let me quit my job, please.

Stella nodded as well, finding their conversation was being led out when it hadn't really even started. As thoughts of her dad erupted in her head, her appetite slowly fell, forcing her to drop her fork and look at her mother. Wrinkles were formed on her mother's forehead, her eyes squinting slightly as her eyes moved from left to right. Her blonde hair, which was now in a high ponytail, touched her shoulders. Stella cleared her throat awkwardly, hoping she would notice her.

When she didn't respond, she decided to speak up.

"Do you ever miss dad?" she whispered, but made sure she heard her.

The paper in her head immediately fell to the table. Her head snapped up, a sorry, yet hard expression took over. A thin line on her lips.

"Do you?" She needed to know.