❛ some things scratch the surface while others strike at your soul ❜
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THERE WERE OFTEN SMALL MOMENTS WHEN MARGOT WONDERED IF ANYONE TRULY KNEW HER OR IF SHE EVEN KNEW HERSELF. She felt like she was a mere subplot in her own story, always looking after those around her instead of taking control of her own narrative. Margot knew that the Upper East Side had gripped her by the throat, with every passing day it was squeezing tighter until she felt like she could no longer breathe.
She often wondered when to allow herself to fully immerse herself into the culture of society's elite, from being the small girl from the other side of the river to being a member of one of the most influential families in New York.
Over her time in the opulence, she had developed a façade that helped protect her from what others around her ultimately would assume about her. The Margot Hartley everyone saw was the one that they wanted, the one that they had grown to expect her to play. She knew that no one outside her inner circle wanted to see her true, genuine self.
The one part of her that had stayed the same was her last name. It had been Cora and Arthur's idea for her to keep her original last name. For her to remember and honour her parents, their best friends, while also being accepted into a new family. It was a small way for her to find connection with that part of herself and she was forever grateful that her parents made that choice for her.
When she was given the opportunity to run away to Europe with her aunt for a whole summer, she didn't hesitate to accept.
For the first time in her life, she felt like she had taken full responsibility for her own happiness, her own peace and her own healing. She realised she couldn't start every new day with the same broken pieces of the day before, that each day should see as a chance to start fresh. To wake up everyone as though it was the first day of the rest of her life.
It was no secret that Margot had fun in Europe since the press always managed to capture photos of her and her aunt who was like an older sister to her. Either they were of the aunt and niece duo drinking the most expensive champagne Italy had to offer, or it was of Margot relaxing on the beach along the Amalfi Coast or shopping down the high-end streets of Madrid.
"My dear, you must start packing your bags if we are ever to get you back to Manhattan." Audrey called from the opposite of the hotel room in the centre of Paris with a view that overlooked the Eiffel tower.
"What if that is my secret plan?" Margot joked as she slowly started packing her purchases back into her Louis Vuitton suitcases, as well as the gifts that she had promised to get for her younger siblings. Her youngest brother and sister were insistent in what they wanted their sister to bring home for them. Her older brother and parents were vague making them easy to buy gifts for.
