Beautiful Disaster

Chapter 19: Disappearance

Disappearance

I sat at my vanity table, staring dismally at my reflection. My tear-strung eyes were blackened with mascara. Red eye shadow framed them beautifully, red lipstick covered my slightly frowned mouth, and long auburn hair framed my pale, saddened face.

"Chlo?" I heard Bonnie's soft voice behind me.

I turned my head to see her. She looked beautiful in a black Notte by Marchesa lace-bodice dress, Christian Louboutin Boulima exclusive d'Orsary heels, a cute pyramid cuff, make-up understated and black hair pulled neatly in a high ponytail.

"Ready to go?" She asked.

I stood up slowly, stepped towards the full-length mirror and stared at my reflection, searching for any flaws. Compared to Bonnie, I looked a little overdressed. But then again, Bonnie might've looked underdressed next to me.

I looked funeral-chic in a black Lanvin tiered satin skirt, a Lanvin ruffled zip-front blouse that was in the darkest of reds, black Christian Louboutin Zipito zip-front stiletto booties, black Wolford over-the-knee stockings, and a MCL by Mathew Campbell Laurenza pave square ring and large crocodile bangle.

"Never in a billion years did I ever think I'd be attending Meghan's funeral, nonetheless in Lanvin and Louboutin." I whispered humorlessly. Bonnie and I always agreed we'd come to Meghan's funeral in Target or Wal-Mart, not designer.

"I know," she said, a tear escaping her eye. "Never in a billion years did I ever think I'd be sad on Meghan's funeral."

"Neither did I." I said breathlessly.

"Ready to go?" A masculine voice sounded.

Unanimously, Bonnie and I turned our heads and nearly gasped at Cap's unstoppable beauty.

"You clean up well," Bonnie said.

And he did. Cap looked absolutely dashing in head-to-toe Dolce and Gabbana. He had on a basic black suit, which was tailored to absolute perfection, with a thin, black tie and a black dress shirt. Black loafers completed his outfit. Guys had it so easy. 

"You two look beautiful," Cap said after displaying his crooked smile out of shyness. He was just too cute.

"Are you sure you're not just talking 'bout Chloe?" Bonnie asked, nudging me.

Cap smiled at Bonnie but his eyes never left me, looking at me in adoration. I flushed and hooked into his arm. Even through his one-button blazer I felt our (in)famous otherworldly connection.

I grabbed my black patent leather Louis Vuitton mid-size tote, which had eye-catching red accents, before we headed out the door and into a funeral I never thought I'd attend.

Meghan's funeral was absolutely heartbreaking, but it didn't stop them from entering my conscience. The thoughts. The accusations.

Why did Cap have your bag? A voice told me as the pastor spoke.

Wasn't it supposed to be stolen? It stressed as I mumbled an Our Father.

He's hiding something. It insisted as I almost broke down when I dropped a single red rose - Meghan's favorite flower since first grade - into the hole where Meghan's lifeless body now laid - in ten thousand dollar vintage Dior no-less.

But perhaps the most thought inducing, and the one that ate at my conscience the most was: How can you love a guy who doesn't trust you enough to tell you what he's hiding?

As annoying and thought-provoking as the voice in my head was, it had a point. How could you love someone who went to such lengths to prevent you from finding out they're 'secret'? How could you feel something so strong for someone who could break you as easily as snapping a twig? How could you trust someone that couldn't trust you?