A Fake Life

chapter eight: bruises and cuts

"For the love of everything good, can you shut that damn alarm off?" Mar says angrily across the room.

I keep my head deep into my pillow and try to feel out where the alarm is to shut it off. After a few failed attempts, I finally turn the alarm off.

"Thank God!" Mar says as she tucks her blanket under her to go back to sleep.

I roll out of bed to get dressed for my 9 A.M. class. I open my dresser and grab a pair of light-wash jeggings and a white sweater to wear with it. As I get dressed, I look over to Dakota's bed which was no surprise empty as usual. I've noticed that she went on her run every morning before her classes started. I always ask her why she doesn't just take a break from her daily runs, but she only responds to me with a smile and the same phrase: "Because why not?"

I walk over to the mirror to grab my phone. I start to brush my teeth as I review my email for any modeling events I might need to look over. Meghan sent me the usual paperwork about the deal with Ezra's mother. I finish brushing my teeth and tuck my phone in my back pocket.

I grab my backpack off the floor and sling it over my shoulder. I unplug my laptop from its charger and tuck it under my arm. "I'm off to class, Mar."

"I literally don't care." Mar mumbles into her pillow as she slept.

I shake my head as I left the room. Mar might seem like she hates us but in reality, she loves us.

I head to class with all of my things in my backpack. I have this class with Ezra and usually, I would be dreading to see him but somehow I just felt......uneasy. Ezra barely said a word to me at the meeting so I can bet that it wasn't his idea to work with me in the first place. I almost felt.....bad for him?

~

I made it to class on time so I take my usual spot with Ezra. I look for him and he was nowhere to be found. I shrug and fill in my sit and get ready for class.

"Good morning class! Let's talk about Lesson three of your textbooks!" My professor starts off the class with his usual lectures. I open up my laptop to type my notes but a constant thought was nudging at me the whole time: Where was Ezra?

Almost on cue a voice chimes in. "Sorry, Professor! I was having car problems!" I look up to see Ezra coming in with blacked-out shades. He comes and sits next to me and his cinnamon aroma rushes over me quickly. It's weird, the scent isn't too strong but it's just enough to let me know he was around.

"It's fine, Ezra. Don't interrupt my class again." Professor Davis continues with his lecture as Ezra settles in.

"Didn't have enough time to stare at yourself in the mirror?" I ask Ezra as I continue to take notes of the lecture going on.

"I didn't know the brat was such a jokester." He reaches inside his backpack to grab his laptop and props it up on the desk next to me. As he begins to log in to his computer I notice his knuckles were bruised pretty bad.

I stop typing. "Hey, what happened to your knuckles though?"

He keeps his eyes on Professor Davis. "Nothing that concerns you."

"You're bleeding." I grab his hand from typing anymore and examine the bruise and cuts. The cuts weren't too deep for him to go to the hospital but they were pretty damn close to it. "You need to get this checked out."

He yanks his hand away from me. "Oh wow! I didn't know the brat was a doctor too!" He says with sarcasm. We look at each other for a couple of seconds until he broke the silence with a groan. He rolls his eyes. "I broke a glass window."

"Ezra, how did you-"

Professor Davis dismisses the class and passes out the next homework assignment.

Ezra grabs the assignment and packs his laptop up. "You don't have to act so concern, Celeste. If you're worried about the photoshoot, don't be. It'll be covered up with makeup and mostly gone by then."

I try to interrupt him. "What photoshoot are you talking about? Ezra, your knuckles are bruised-"

"Stop acting as if you care! All you care about are the photoshoots, the money, and the fame that comes along with it." He slings his backpack onto his shoulder and looks at me with a straight face. "That's why you agreed with my mother on her contract right?" I break my eye contact with him, not knowing what to answer him with. He chuckles and continues. "Exactly." He leans over and whispers in my ear. "Stop pretending to care for me, Brat. It's not a good look on you." He stuffs his injured hand in his pocket and turns to leave with the rest of the class.

I try to process what Ezra just said to me but I have so many questions. I take out my phone and check my phone for any incoming emails from his mother. I refresh my email to see her email pop up first. Ezra was right about an upcoming photoshoot but who was it with?

I pack up my laptop and leave class while reading the email. The photoshoot is on Saturday with a clothing brand called "Hello Marlowe". This fashion brand is well-known for selling out in an hour of opening their new collections every year. I'm almost star-struck to be modeling their clothes on Saturday.

I would be jumping up and down for this opportunity but I keep replaying Ezra's words back in my mind:

"All you care about are the photoshoots, the money, and the fame that comes along with it."

I felt....like a fake.

Was what he said was true?

Do all I care about is fame?

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