[3] Princesses and phone calls

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For being my 100th voter on this story. Thanks amillion (:

          So, here's chapter three. It's still a working progress but I wanted to put it up as soon as possible. Hope it's good, and the ending isn't tooooo much of a dissapointment. You'll just have to keep waiting ;D

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C H A P T E R   T H R E E 

          “What happened?” Mum asked worriedly as I slid into the car, slamming the door as hard as I could.

          “Mystique Walker is what happened,” I replied sourly, folding my arms across my chest and pouting like a little kid, “She’s such a perfect bitch!” I hardly ever swore, but it felt so good to let the word slip from my innocent lips, “I shouldn’t have even gone. No one should have, it’s obvious when you’re up against Miss freaking universe you’re not going win. What a waste of time.” I hated being angry, it made me feel so ugly. No one looks good when they’re angry.

          I sighed, staring at my gloomy reflection in the mirror. Why did I even think I could possibly get a job as a princess? My pale skin made me look like I was constantly sick, my ears stuck out like I was permanently dressed as an elf, and no matter how much foundation I caked on my freckles always made my face look like a constellation map. I was better off posing at the Theme park map, ‘the Southern Cross points to the Ferris wheel, and Orion points to the gondolier’.

                    “Hey,” Mum said, placing her hand on my knee, “Last time I checked, being a bitch doesn’t make you perfect.”

          I flipped up the mirror so I didn’t have to look at myself.

          “Well being nice doesn’t make you perfect either,” I replied, throwing my head against the seat. “last time I tried being nice I came off as a snob. I gave Taylor a dollar at the canteen but she gave it back and pretty much spat ‘I’m not a charity’ in my face.”

          Mum paused, her hands resting on the steering wheel.

          “I think you know the reason behind that one,” she said quietly, before starting up the car.

          As much as I hated my mother being right, she was. I did know why Taylor got mad at me in the canteen, but she didn’t have to be rude about it.

          Yes, I may have owned three cars.

          Yes, I may have worn designer clothes.

          Yes, I did have my own gym complete with a pool.

          But no, that did not change my personality. I didn’t choose to be wealthy, I just happened to be born into a family with a lot of money. And I wasn't not going to disown them because they brought me nice things. Giving Taylor a dollar wasn't an act of charity. I didn't do it to shove the fact that I had more money than her in her face. I did it because she didn't quite have enough change to get a slushy. My main intention was to give a random act of kindness, and I did not intend it to backfire as an insult. Not only as an insult to her, but also to me.  

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