Hating Miss Popular, Kenzhie A. [books for 20 year olds txt] 📗

my nerves simmering down.

 

“A modeling job.” He uttered, amused with the idea.

 

“What?! Why would my mom offer you a job here? Are you considering it, that's why you're here?” I muttered in disbelief. He chuckled at my expression. This is simply Jacque's way of manipulating things regarding my life, particularly my love life. I'm just seventeen. Oh, for Christ's sake!

 

“Don't you think I'm suited to be a model?” He raised his arms in a comical manner to show his toned and muscular biceps. I wanted to giggle but I stopped myself. “Anyway, I want to accept the offer, that's why I'm here.” He smiled widely when he saw my mouth dropped.

 

“What?! Why? You don't like this job and you're not penniless, right?” I eyed him in total disbelief.

 

“How would you know that I don't like this job?” He smirked.

 

“You don't!” I insisted. I don't want him here. He's gonna destroy my inner peace and this place is where I run to whenever I'm stressed out or troubled. Now, he's telling me that he's gonna work here as a model when he's the big reason why I'm troubled aside from those freaky emails and that prank call. I shot him a wary glance.

 

“Yeah. I don't but since you're here, I like it now.” He winked at me but I ignored it. I have a more stressing matter than his flirtatious repartee.

 

“How many phones do you have?” I asked out of the blue.

 

“One. Why?”

 

“Do you have another SIM card?”

 

“No, why would I have another SIM?” He looked at me like I'm being a crackpot and talking crappy stuffs.

 

“Have you used a prepaid---”

 

“What's with these nonsense questions? Is something bothering you? You've been acting strange since last Wednesday evening.” He stared at me intently, assessing my expression.

 

“Nothing.” I denied and started to walk toward my car. He followed me and pulled my arm so I bounced back to him.

 

“What is it?” He insisted and hold my chin to look at him. I scowled, but didn't say anything. “C'mon, Syd. You can tell me.” His gray eyes stared down at me with a worried look. I almost spilled, looking at those beautiful gray specs. Good thing I stopped myself before I go beyond enemy lines.

 

“I said nothing.” I hissed feeling irritated more at myself than him.

 

“I know you're hiding something from me, Syd...” Now that's it! This guy is just acting like he's my damn boyfriend when he's not and will never be!

 

“Don't get too cocky. Why would I hide something from you? Who are you to me? You're nothing to me so—-” My voice trailed off when I saw the hurt in his face then it was replaced with anger.

 

“Yeah. I get it.” He said and walked off to wherever the hell he is going. I went to my car feeling a tinge of guilt and remorse which I don't like. I'm Sydney Wood. The Ice Queen, who never feels remorse, guilt, or whatever emotions except from hatred toward men and dislike to people with a crappy fashion statement. So, why now? Why do I feel these kind of emotions? It bothers me and that's making my cold composure crumbles. In just a short time I knew about Cole, he riled some emotions within me and started to melt down my icy wall. This attraction I feel toward him is so strong and foreign that I am drawn to him even if I don't want to. I must stop this before it gets any more complicated...

 

====####====

 

 

Everyone is busy, bustling about the wide area of the building where the High Society Winter Collection Runway show will start anytime soon. It's already past seven in the evening and the event will begin at eight. I tweeted an invitation yesterday for everyone at Manhattan High and other people I know in the circle and got more than a thousand retweets and favorites. I heard the fashion show coordinator called out that we should be done and be ready as the crowd of guests have almost arrived, mostly celebrities, paparazzi of some famous magazines, the people in the fashion industry, and all sorts of people from the elite society who are interested in fashion or even not, just to socialize in such event. Jacque Babineaux is considered a Fashion Goddess of the fashion industry as her line of clothing are always on trend and have a classy feel which most Hollywood celebrities choose to wear and even endorse. Jacque has also been considering to expand her line to shoes, bags, and accessories which I had suggested. I like designing shoes, bags and especially accessories. In fact, I've made some just for fun. After high school, I'll be studying in Paris mainly in fashion designing and crafting metals and the sort. I love modeling but my dream is to become just like my mom. I have a passion for designing and creating beautiful things and I'm pretty sure I've had that gene from my multi-talented mother. Gianni went to check on me, I'll be wearing the last piece and the special creation of Jacque Babineaux's Winter couture at the end of the show, but before that, I'll be displaying a few collections of fur coats and glittered jackets. This year's theme is Winter fairyland's fur and glitter. There will be ballerinas and classical music as we walk on the catwalk. Gianni's very creative when it comes to choreographing the runway show and for five years of working in High Society, it has always been successful and is always all over the fashion headlines of some high-end newspapers and magazines.

 

“You look lovely, Sydney, amore.” Gianni waved his fingers delightedly after seeing me. I'm in the dressing room and one of the HS hair and makeup artist is almost done with me.

 

“Grazie, Gianni. Everything's great. As always, you've done a great job. I'm sure Jacque's very pleased.” I smiled at him.

 

“But of course, amore. This is what Ms. Babineaux is paying me for. Don't forget to charm the audiences when you're on the catwalk. Ciao!” He went out and so is the stylist after she's done. A few minutes later, someone knock on the door and I wonder who could it be. I stood up and opened the door, but I didn't see anyone. I was about to go back in when my gaze went down on the floor. There's a black box with a red ribbon. I bent down to pick it up and curiously opened it, but my face went ashen as I saw my picture with blood and worms. I shakily ran to the trash bin and threw it, then I ran out of the room and scanned the area for a potential suspect but everyone are moving about busily. This is really getting serious. I have to report this to the police, but I'm hesitating. It'll be a big fuss and I don't want to worry Jacque. I have to find a way to stop this psycho who's trying to scare me. So far, the psycho hasn't done anything to hurt me. It's all to scare me. I'm guessing it's one of the girls I've picked on but I can't pinpoint who as they were too many. I sighed and looked around. Then I saw a strange person with a dark hoodie walking fast toward the back exit. I ran toward the stranger, but my mom caught me. However, before my attention went to my mom, I saw the stranger bumped into one of the HS staffs and his hoodie fall off his head. I saw the side of his face. Cole? What's he doing here?

 

“Sydney, dear, where are you going? The show is about to start.” Jacque eyed me curiously.

 

“Nowhere. Just thought I saw someone familiar.”

 

“Just find whoever that is later, sweetheart. Remember, glide---”

 

“Glide and not walk.” I finished her sentence. “Got it, Ms. Babineaux.” I smiled at her and went on the back stage, forgetting about the incident earlier. The music started to play and the models are waiting for the cue.

 

 

=====####=====

 

 

I walked—well, glided as Jacque insisted---on the catwalk, wearing a glittered white and silvery jacket with a cream fur hood which is covering my head and a leopard accentuated, silver sequin embossed spangle glitter leggings. As I walk, there's an artificial snowflake falling from above, making the catwalk look like a winter fairyland with the music and the dancing ballerina. The guests are seated on a white and silver fur round cushion chairs with matching furred umbrellas. I scanned the area, looking for someone familiar and saw the girls waving and taking pictures at the front seat. I even saw Becky taking pictures at the far side of the ramp. I saw many familiar faces mostly from Manhattan High and looked curiously for someone with familiar gray eyes at the crowd but to no avail. I must have imagined seeing him as the guy in hoodies. He was pretty pissed with me the last time we talked so I'm pretty sure, he'll not be here. I also saw William with his buddies, staring at me like I'm some kind of a prey. I almost rolled my eyes, but stopped myself and turned around toward the backstage. I bumped into Chalina but didn't bother giving her a glance. I was in a hurry to change into a gold and silver accentuated winter coat, silver sequin skater skirt, and fur boots for my next walk.

 

Everything is running smoothly so far. Everyone is looking gorgeous with High Society's collection and now, I'm ready to show the masterpiece of Jacque Babineaux, The Winter Couture. It's a silver and gold sequin adorned tulle gown with exquisite silk skirt and a sweeping hem that swings as I move and a silvery velvet cloak with a fur hood, hangs on my shoulder and the fur hood covers my head, giving me a mystical aura. When the coordinator announced the last piece, I went out and glided gracefully on the catwalk. Everyone seems captivated by me and the dress. It looks magical like in the fairytale with the matching snowflake shower. As I walked, I got surprised as my eyes came across Cole. He is staring at me, but I can't see his reaction as he's quite far from the ramp and the lighting is a bit dark. My attention switched to the coordinator when he spoke.

 

“Ladies and gentleman, around of applause please to the gorgeous ladies and gentlemen here and to the very talented woman behind these glitz and glam couture, Ms. Jacque Babineaux.” Everyone clapped as Jacque went to the ramp with the other models behind. We are in the midst of crowd, taking more photographs when I heard a rattling sound above me. I looked up, stunned, to see the snow-maker machine is making a weird beeping sound. Then the accident happened. It was like a movie in a slow-mo, someone pushed me from the ramp before I heard something blew up and a loud thud as the metals scattered on the ramp. I winced as I felt my wrist twisted painfully as I landed near the cushions. I heard the crowd screamed in panic, but my consciousness is slowly fading away. I felt a sticky substance flowing from my head to my cheeks. Mom?! How is she? She's just a meter away from me when that evil machine blew up! My mind screamed and worried for my mom as I fight hard to stay awake.

 

“Oh God! Baby, are you OK?” I heard a worried voice before I completely lose my consciousness.

 

====#####=====

 

 

Ms. Jacque Babineaux' High Society Winter Collection: “Winter fairyland's fur and glitter,” Runway show, Glitz and Glam turned catastrophic.

 

It's the news headline not only on the fashion section, but from other news sections as well. I frowned when I saw a caption of me, lying on the floor with a streak of blood on the side of my face while Cole cradled my head on his lap instead of looking gorgeous and poised in the