Vanity Teens

Chapter Nineteen

A.N. I'VE CAST KAYA SCODELARIO AS FREYA ANGSBACKA! I love my names, too. I don't know why I feel the need to name my characters such bizarre names, but idc I'm lame like that. Xoxo.

Chapter Nineteen:

Sometimes, being an only child is a good thing. And sometimes, it can be the worst thing in the world. I mean, my mother and I aren't particularly close, although we spend lots of time together. It was actually a very unusual relationship, very abnormal to everyone outside of the two of us. You could say it was a love/hate relationship, and of course it wouldn't be as good if we weren't constantly bickering at each other.

But deep down, I knew that she loved me. And I supposed I loved her, you can't not love your mother, so don't lie to me. And most of the time, I feel like some of the nonsensical bullshit that seeps from her mouth is just to scare me. She'd love me if I got someone pregnant, although we all know that seriously wasn't happening. And I knew that she would love me if I told her my secret.

But everyone has that irksome voice in the back of their mind, that voice that you can barely hear but somehow never ceases to shut the fuck up. The voice of doubt, pecking at me, telling me that I shouldn't tell her, that it'd all go wrong and fall apart in so many ways.

Because, honestly, if I was given the ultimatum that my mother was given by her parents, I would probably do exactly what she did. Yes, I know how shitty that sounds, but I am a man of money. Without money, I'm not me.

And without Sam, I'll just be the kid that I was before school started this year. It was a weight on my shoulders, just thinking about that ultimatum. If my mother loved me, she surely wouldn't ask me to choose between my inheritance and my love, right? I mean, she wouldn't do that to me. I was just too flawless and godly and the personification of human perfection. It's a full-time job, you know!

But that voice in the back of my head is so very persuasive, and it seemed almost too determined to ensure that she didn't uncover my secret, even if I was okay with her knowing it. Because, I was okay. I was ready to tell her, to tell everyone.

But that voice, that stupid, insistent, all-knowing nag that just keeps on moaning and moaning and moaning. It was basically a battle between the devil in me and the angel in me as they both stood on either shoulder screaming their heads off at each other. Sometimes it was fun just to look at them bickering, until I realised that I was staring at my shoulders and imagining people sitting on them. I was so lonely.

"Eat." The words didn't go through for a moment, but then I was pulled back to my morning meal with Mother. Our glimmering white table spread out before me, and when I looked up from my cereal, I found Mother staring at me with her empty grey eyes, as she sat directly opposite from me.

"What?" I asked, slightly dazed. I was still in thought, and I hadn't even realised that she was probably trying to make conversation. She was probably moaning about how rude the help are, or how some woman stole the handbag she was going to buy from Harrods.

"You haven't touched your cereal, Ariel. It may go soggie."

My stomach roared, but I ignored the sensation. "I'm not hungry," I lied. My stomach betrayed me once again, with a loud and triumphant roar.

"Yes, your stomach seems to agree," she seemed to say, with an air of coldness thinning her voice. Her lips pursed as she sipped on her cup of tea, her pinky raised so highly, and her chin practically higher than the ceiling.

Mother had an air of elegance about her, that could not be denied. But sometimes I felt like she was hiding something from me. "You know, it's very rude to ignore your mother. I've been speaking to you for at least five minutes, and your eyes have not even wandered beyond the ground. Attention, Ariel, thank you!"