The Vlogger

6) The Vlogger's Emotional

I really thought being twenty two and three quarters would make my parents realize that I wasn't a kid anymore and that they couldn't just force me to do things.

But I guess I was wrong.

As long as they payed for everything I owned they could control my every move like a little puppet. I just had to accept that, although the stubborn side of me couldn't.

I hated how Armani had to fake conversations with my parents and their so called 'friends'. It was absolutely disgusting to the point where I wanted to gag. I was surprised at how easily he got along with them. I was honestly waiting for the part where something goes terribly wrong and everyone looks at him mortified, then I'd swoop in and save him from the situation.

But fortunately, that hadn't happened yet.

Armani was fitting right in. I was impressed, but of course I wasn't going to say it. If his ego got any bigger I would jump off a cliff-note my sarcasm.

The best part was my father hadn't made his way to the gallery yet. As usual work always came first, even during my childhood.

We weren't exactly a loving family but we weren't the worst either. If there was a camera nearby, we were laughing and smiling. But as soon as that was over, both of them would be getting on their private jets heading in opposite directions.

Armani secured his arm around my waist which gave me the perfect opportunity to admire the suit he was wearing. It was a black Loro Piana with a Royal blue dress shirt and handkerchief. If he knew how much it cost, he would never let me buy anything for him again. So I kept the large amount of zeros to myself and kept tuning out of the conversation until it was over. When everyone started heading back towards the art I sighed in relief.

"Did I screw up, like you said I would?" Armani asked with a quirky grin. He already knew the answer but I figured he wanted the satisfaction of hearing me say it.

It wasn't going to happen.

"Not yet, though you haven't even made it through the worst part."

Armani sighed dramatically,"Oh no. How much worse could this get? First I eat loads of shrimp pasta, then I have to socialize with people I've never met? This is just suicide Taylor. I'm dying right now."

I laughed, suddenly anxious for the moment my father drained his confidence.

"So what's your dad like?"

I looked at him slowly, trying to find words that would properly suit my father.

"He's industrious and impulsive."

Armani raised one of his flawless eyebrows,"I have no idea what you just said. Try speaking English this time."

I rolled my eyes,"He's very hard working and rarely thinks before he says anything. Just don't find him too intimidating."

Armani nodded his head firmly,"If you haven't noticed I handle pretty well under pressure."

"Don't get your hopes up." I mumbled, hoping his enthusiasm would fade. He only grinned boyishly.
"Don't fall in love with me. I'm pretty charming."