Supervillain Girlfriend!

Part Two, Chapter One: Getting Ready

      Beatrice sat alone in Charlie’s bedroom, nervously chewing her bottom lip and eyeing the door. She was dreading Charlie coming in, and seeing that she was alone. In fact, she was practically overflowing with anxiety. 

    But then again, Beatrice had been anxious ever since she had moved in with Charlie, which had been five weeks ago today. Charlie had insisted that she not go back to the abandoned apartment she had spent the past few years, and instead come stay with her.

      So here she had been, ever since she had been discharged from the hospital.

      Beatrice had figured the apartment would be nicer than anything she had ever even seen before, but she still hadn’t quite been ready for the opulence of it all. 

     It was bigger than any house Beatrice had ever been in, easily over three thousand square feet, with three bedrooms and four bathrooms. What was it with rich people and having so many bathrooms? It had always annoyed her.

     Everything was white and slick and new and in place. Half of the furniture felt too nice to even touch, but Beatrice had found out pretty quickly that she didn’t have to worry about keeping the apartment in its pristine condition; Charlie had people for that.

     There were people to clean and people to cook and people to drive them around. There were security guards, and people that delivered the groceries, and people that delivered the dry cleaning.

      Beatrice found she didn’t have much to do besides hide in her room from them while she waited on Charlie to get home from work.

     Charlie would often offer to buy a place that was less ostentatious if it would make her more comfortable, but Beatrice refused. 

    “You don’t have to do something like that for me. We’ve only known each other for a few months.” Beatrice had said.

     “It’s no big deal.” Charlie had said with a shrug.

     Unfortunately, Beatrice couldn't agree.

      Eventually, after Beatrice sitting there for some time, Charlie did come in.

      “Are you almost read—oh.”

      Beatrice blinked as Charlie eyed her, sitting alone on the bed surrounded by makeup and hair pins.

      “What happened to Alexandra?” Charlie asked.

      Beatrice blushed, feeling sweaty.

     “She kept talking to me and touching my face so I told her to leave.” She admitted. 

      “Oh—“ Charlie said. “Oh, I should have—never mind.” 

      Charlie walked over and started to gently release her hair from the rollers it was in and brush through it with her fingers.

      “At least she was almost done.”

      Beatrice swallowed and shook her head.

      “I’m sorry Charlie, I—“

      “Don’t apologize.” Charlie said. “I know you don’t like strangers touching you. I wasn’t even thinking. That was my bad."

       Beatrice just nodded, but didn’t say anything else. 

      “There.” Charlie said after a few seconds of fiddling with her hair. “Wow! You look amazing!”

       Beatrice glanced up and caught her reflection in the mirror. 

        She had certainly never worn so much makeup and she’d really never even had anyone else do her hair, but what stood out the most to her was the dress. 

      It was but some designer that she had never heard of, and also couldn’t even begin to pronounce. It probably costed more money than a new car, a thought that made her want to puke. 

      But it was very pretty. 

      It was one of those dresses that was long and form fitted with thin straps, and it shimmered an iridescent blue green under the light. When she had first tried it on, it got stuck on her hips, so she had to have it tailored to fit her. 

      “What do you think?” Charlie asked.

     “I think I can barely breath.” Beatrice said as she stood up. It was true. She felt like an overfilled water balloon. 

      “Don’t worry.” Charlie said, walking up 
behind her and rubbing her shoulders. “I can take it off for you when we get back.”

      Charlie kissed the back of her neck and Beatrice squeezed her hand in response, before looking over to Charlie's reflection.

      Charlie was also impeccably dressed, but Beatrice really just considered that her normal state of being. 

       “Are you nervous?” Charlie asked.

      “A little.” Beatrice said, although it was a complete under exaggeration. She was terrified.

       “We don’t have to go.” Charlie said. “Not if you don’t want to.” 

        “No.” Beatrice shook her head. “I want to!” 

        It was true.

         Well, it was at least half true.

         They were going to the opening of an art exhibit in uptown New Atlanta. It was an exhibit of artwork by various controversial public figures, and TJ's work was going to be included. 

        Although she wouldn't admit to it, Beatrice was sure Charlie had pulled some strings to make it happen. 

        She was excited to see him get some sort of recognition, but she was decidedly not excited about going to such a public event.

        There would be people there. A lot of people. They would try to talk to her and ask her questions and take her picture and touch her. She didn't feel ready.

       But she wasn't about to tell Charlie that. 

       "If you're sure."  Charlie said.

       Beatrice tried to shake off the overwhelming feeling that something terrible was going to happen that night. 

        "I'm sure."