Unknown Identity

Chapter Seven

"Ms. Brooke, it's time to wake up. It's your first day in school," a lady servant called.

I immediately popped my eyes open. They have been keeping me away from mirrors after the make-over. I couldn't wait to see what Fifi had done to me. I sat up.

"Where's the mirror?" I demanded.

The lady servant jumped a step back, her face looked terrified.

Then, Fifi tottered into my room in another pair of heels different from yesterday. She held up her hands in front of her as though to stop me.

"Ah-ah-ah!" she said. "You're not getting close to any mirror. Not until you get dressed."

"That's not fair!" I ranted.

"Stop acting like a child and get moving!" Fifi turned me around to my bed and I noticed that she has already laid out my clothes for me. "Put on your new lingerie and clothes. I'll be back in five minutes."

The lady servant closed the balcony curtains for me. I waited until Fifi and the lady servant was out of the room before I undo my clothes and put on a new set of La Perla underwear. I slip into the red satin jumpsuit and snap on the black, glossy, broad belt.

A few minutes later, Fifi was back in the room.

She clasped her two hands and her face was filled with glee.

"You're so beautiful!" she said. "But you still look like a ghost. Let's put on some makeup."

She hauled a silver trolley in and pulled out a cord from the back of the trolley and plugged it to a socket. She popped it open into a makeup table with makeup stuffs in it. I looked at the mirror that was decorated with huge incandescent bulbs on the sides. My hair looked like they belonged to a goddess.

"Fifi! My hair is...amazing!" I couldn't help but gape. I touched my glossy locks. The color seemed to be more vibrant, a bit reddish and not a dull brown. It has morphed into seductive curls, and it's unbelievably soft.

Fifi gave a proud smile. "I knew you'd say that. Now, let's put some color on your face."

She flipped a black case open of a matte palette of different shades of skin tones. She began to pat on the sides of my face and blended the color with a brush. I looked blooming. Then, she flipped another black case open, this time it's a matte palette of all sorts of pink. She picked up another brush and mixed orange with a light pink then, blotted them on my cheeks. I thought I would look like some sort of clown. I mean who would put orange on their cheeks? But I looked vibrant. I couldn't help but smile at my reflection.

"You need to remember everything that I did. You'll start doing your makeup on your own tomorrow," Fifi warned.

I nodded.

She picked up a green stick which looked like a lip balm. She took off its tiny cap and twisted the bottom until the balm came out and swiped it all over my lips. She retracted the balm and recapped it. She picked up another palette, but this time it opened to all shades of creamy red. Lipsticks. She glanced at my lips then, she swiped on a nude shade and lined my lips with a thin brush. She picked up a bit wider lip brush and picked a plumpy old rose color and swiped it all over my lips.

Amazing.

I look like a goddess.

"Fifi..." I said, out of breath.

"I know," she said softly.

A lady servant appeared at the door. "Miss Brooke, Sir Elliot is waiting for you at the breakfast table."

"I'll be right down," I said, still in a state of astonishment.

"Miss Brooke, you look beautiful," the lady servant complimented before leaving.

I couldn't help but smile at Fifi.

Fifi gave a warm smile.

I stood up and gave Fifi a tight hug. After a moment of being sentimental, she patted my back as a sign of release.

"The prince is waiting," she said.

I giggle before pulling back.

"You know how his temper is," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I bet he couldn't even bring himself to get mad at you once he sees you."

I rolled my eyes. "I have no ambition to end up with that Pigheaded Baboon."

She chuckled. "I can't believe a girl would actually hate him." She shook her head in amused disbelief. She patted my arm. "Don't forget your shoes."

I nodded.

"Alright, let's wrap up."

She started to put back the palettes in the trolley, switched off the bulbs and unplugged the trolley. I gawk at the pair of black pumps that was waiting for me to be worn. The heels are too high. How could anyone walk in such ridiculous shoes? I think everyone should just wear slippers. They're comfortable!

I eventually took the risk and slipped into the killer heels while gripping onto the edge of the glass table where a vase of flowers stood. I picked up my new black Prada bag on the glass table beside the vase. I thought I was going to trip once I let go of the glass, but surprisingly, I feel good in them. I took my first step, then another, and another. I seemed to be walking in a straight line.

"You're a natural!" Fifi gasped. "Even I couldn't have pulled that off! I guess you don't need my help after all!"

"I don't know how I did it!" I said, just as astounded.

"Go on! Elliot is waiting for you."

"Wait!" I gasped and covered my underarm. "I forgot to shave!"

"Don't shave! Ever! It's bad for your armpits! You don't have to worry about your underarms. I had it under laser treatment last night."

I lifted up my arm and looked at it as I grazed it.

Soft...white...like a Hollywood star's armpit.

I look at Fifi with astonishment. "Amazing," I mouthed.

Fifi chuckled, amused with my reaction. "You should go now. I'll leave the trolley here, okay?"

I ran to Fifi and hugged her tightly for the last time before jogging out of the room and heading downstairs.

I couldn't help but smile as I trotted down the grand stair case swinging my bag all the way to the dining hall.

"Miss Brooke!" one of the lady servants looked anxious. "You need to head to the breakfast hall now. Sir Elliot is very upset."

"Where's the breakfast hall?" I asked happily.

"To the left, Miss Brooke," the lady servant said, gesturing to another room to the left of the dining hall.

Elliot said without looking the moment I appeared in the room. "Where have you been? I don't like waiting-" He looked up.

I made a twirl. "What do you think?"

He lifted his chin. He looked discomfited.

"Just eat your breakfast. I don't want to be late," he instructed in low tones.

I didn't let his haughtiness get to me and continued to the empty iron seat across him. The breakfast table was a whole lot smaller than the dining table. It was a small round glass table which was a perfect accessory for a romantic setting. The roof was made of glass which gave way to the subtle sunlight to shower inside the room.

"Your breakfast, Miss Brooke," a lady servant said, placing a plate of pancakes in front of me.

I look down to the blueberries on top of my pancake.

"You don't like it?" Elliot said. I looked up to him and expected an arrogant comment, but instead, he said, "I'll have them cook you something else. What do you want?"

I was speechless.

"N-n-no, uhm," I stammered. "It's perfect. I love it."

He jutted his chin to my plate. "Eat. We're going to be late."

I gradually grabbed the silver knife and fork and started on my pancake.

He's so weird.