Dreaming. {Ashton Irwin}

02. Two Unexpected Parties

Mom." I say, throwing my bag on the table.

"Hello. Back from school?" She asks. Not like she actually gives a shit or something.

"Yeah. Going upstairs," my version of a goodbye.

"Great."

"Wait." My mom says just before I'm about to go.

"What?" I ask.

"Dinner party. You must attend, with the label 'Heir of Real-Icon Management.'"

"I hate that."

"You kind of need to attend."

"I never asked to be some heir of this huge management for pop stars." I groan.

"Christina." Her eyes flash. "You know what I expect from you."

"Yes mom. Sorry mom." I bowed my face to the ground.

"A few people from the school board will also be there. Do not make me feel ashamed of my own daughter in front of my co-workers.

"Yes mom, I understand."

"Good."

And that was my beautifully amazing mother and our long, deep talk.

Please say you noticed the sarcasm.

Because, my mom kind of isn't my real mom...?

My mom died when I was three, and so my dad married another woman. She was pretty, but her face was emotionless as were her cold eyes. She wanted me to be a proper lady (which is kind of impossible for me) and act like the snobby rich ladies. 

During the years I lived here, my stepmom didn't really ever say much to me. She smiled a cold smile to me when I got back from school, (A snobby academy of course) and made me a sandwich occasionally for lunch.

I also learned more information on my stepmom. She was this super scary headmaster in Adrian Arts, the school I'm attending right now. It's all about the Arts, Singing, Acting, Dancing and all of that stuff. With normal classes on top of that.

My dad is the CEO of Real Icon Management, the thing for pop stars. And I'm supposed to take over it. 

Joy. Taking over like 20 artists and/or groups. That will happen when I'm twenty. But I'm joining the business when I'm eighteen. I guess that's still pretty far away. Kind of. My seventeenth birthday is coming. But even now, my mom wants me to attend all of these snobby dinner parties to see what it will be like when I'm older or something. I'm also attending Adrian Arts to see which kind of people I will be working with when I take over. 

I hate the rich dinner parties, they are all so fake. Everyone will be saying things like "Hi, you look wonderful today!", "So this is the heir of Icon Management? Wow, I just know she will do a good job!", or "This was a wonderful meetup!", but their hearts are thinking otherwise. They might be thinking how ugly some people look, how they don't actually think the heir of the business will do a good job, or how they want to get away from the meetup as fast as possible. 

See? So fake.

My cell phone rings, interrupting me from my thoughts.

"Ugh." I say into the speaker.

"Christiiina!" A chirpy voice calls on the other line.

"Hey Nicole."

"So..." She says.

"Mhm." I mumble, still frustrated about the dinner party.

"HELLO? I HAVE BEEN ON THE LINE FOR TEN SECONDS AND YOU STILL HAVEN'T ASKED HOW MY DATE WITH LUKE WAS?!" Nicole bursts.