The Girl behind the Throne

guten abends, how are we all this fine evening....so i got a new type of writers block...its called "i think this whole chapter was total bullshit, but decided to post it anyways" so far i think i enjoy the unproductive version of writers block but hey, i needed to upload....sorry its not so long, you can blame that on my exams :D

this chapter is dedicated to the winner of my competition, all of the entries were amazing and i had a really hard time choosing the winner but i really liked her creativity AND she has gived me permission to post it so its coming soon :) you should really read her stuff you guys, you wont be disappointed :D

and that leads onto my other point, i have had a few people asking me if i can write a prequel later on of when tess left the palace to goto school and about how she got together with liam and im seriously considering it, so all those in favour just leave a comment letting me know other wise ill just move onto another project :D 

but anyways READ!!!

I drove my Porsche down the narrow English road, the smiths blaring out of my stereo and Sloane and belle chatting animatedly as I accelerated past a tractor, the low growl of the engine making me grin widely. We were going shopping to get something for Sloane and belle to wear for my ‘party’ when in reality I just wanted to leave the house.

“ok would you still fancy Brad Pitt if he had this horrible sexual disease that made his dick look like a corn on the cob” Sloane asked thoughtfully making me shoot Belle a look in the mirror before laughing, unsurprisingly Belle was looking pensive and tapping her chin with a manicured finger.

“Well”, she said scrunching up her forehead as she weighed up the possibilities. “Yeah, I still would” she said finally shooting us both a devilish look that made us laugh louder than before.

“Dude you are gross” she said with a light grin that showed that her answer wouldn’t be much different.

“What?” Belle, asked indignantly shrugging and picking at her nails. “Mama always said to make sure you eat one of your five a day” she said finally lifting up her brow and looking at us both.

I was lucky that the destination wasn’t far from where we are, I pulled in to an open space fighting giggles and parked before laughing uproariously.

Finally rubbing my eyes free of tears I managed to grab my bag and get out of the car. I locked the door as Sloane and Belle talked about whether or not they would still do Hugh Jackman if he had a weird contagious fungal nail infection, and surprise surprise the answer was still yes. I rolled my eyes as we walked over to a Monique De Morney boutique, a store that I never would have dreamed of being inside before let alone being able to buy anything.

I breathed in the warm smell of fabric as I opened the door and Sloane, Belle and I looked around at the collection. They were evidently less impressed as I was, but then again they had been brought up with money- whereas I grew up seriously lacking in the green stuff.

I saw a superbly dressed blonde woman coming towards us as we walked in the money signs practically flashing in front of her eyes as she saw Sloane, I should explain Sloane’s reputation. Sloane is THE it girl, designers adore her and paparazzi constantly follow her like puppies and she has male models falling at her feet. She just shrugged when the woman aimed her attention to her completely ignoring her and walked over to the nearest rack.

“Can I get you ladies something, champagne perhaps?” She asked us both eyeing me up warily as I looked around in wonder, I had a feeling that she thought I had no money despite my designer clothes.

“Sure. That would be great”. I said friendly and looked at the dresses to my left. I was fully engrossed in my search that I didn’t hear the owner of the nasal voice until it rang out grating my ears.

“It’s a little upmarket for you, why don’t you try a charity shop”. Came the nasty voice, I turned around to find myself face to face with Celia, who was giggling with her brainless best friend about her useless attempt at humour.

“I would Celia, but unfortunately all they have in stock is your style of clothes. And I think that trashy ho wouldn’t look good on me” I shot back, a smirk on my face as I crossed my arms. She frowned at me and hissed. “Or you for that matter. What happened, did you think that the world would run out of pink satin?” I asked pointing at her ensemble that wouldn’t look out of place on a hooker.