Glass Sneakers

8th ♕

8th ♕

Bridgette.

Art had told me about her after the parade, but he didn't say that she would get on my nerves. He did warn me that she would likely lecture me every minute, but there was a difference between taking in Lenora's insights and digging right into the core of every single one of my nerves. When I thought Lenora was strict, she came walking in the door. Art had introduced her to me, and he said that she was like his big sister.

And he said we would get along, now look at us.

"No, I won't go in there. Don't expect me," I said it in a flat and unhappy voice.

"You have to, Georgiette. There's no other way around. You have to do the interview. What is so hard about that?" Bridgette asked me.

"Can't they just take pictures?" Or I would willingly go if they would change the topic.

"It's a talk show. What kind of talk show takes pictures only? Hmm?" Bridgette stressed out, folding her arms. Ever since we'd met three days ago, the only pair of clothes I saw her wore were black slacks and same color of blazers over a white polo shirt. Her straight blonde hair was pulled and tied at the back of her head. Aside from tinted lip gloss and a minimal amount of face powder, she also didn't put on any other makeup.

"Can we skip the talk show and do something else?" I asked, almost pleading. "Anything else will do."

"No, we can't. If there's another way out of this unwillingness of yours, do you think I won't work my ass off?" Bridgette asked, coldly.

She would, actually.

Bridgette was my personal secretary, and that was simply putting it. She basically controlled my life. In her planner was my schedule, from waking up to getting back to bed. I could just show up and she'd take care of my day.

Down to the very last details.

"Okay," I half-heartedly agreed, thinking of an easy way to get this done without endangering myself.

"Georgiette, I know it's personal, but why are you refusing the interview in the first place?" Bridgette sat in the empty chair beside me. "Is there a problem? We can talk about it. I can stop being your secretary for a moment if you need someone to talk to."

You could hear the crowd responding to the hosts all the way from the waiting room. The red light was beaming On Air.

I held my breath, closing my eyes. I was nervous. That was normal. But what I was anxious of was the list of questions. I wasn't sure I could still lie about it, afraid to be seen through.

"Just because," I answered.

"You were on the go with everything, and suddenly this? You know, I'm here to keep you in your place. I'm here for you. You do know that, right?" Bridgette emphasized, making sure that I got what she meant.

"Yeah. Art told me to trust you if I would ever be in the middle of doubting the whole world." I pulled the hem of the dress Lenora instructed me to wear. It fell a little above the knees. I wanted to stretch it a bit more.

"Art is like my brother, George. And since he asked me to watch over you, that's what I'm doing. So do me a favor and make this easier for both of us," she said.

"Okay, I'll do my best." This was the first time I would be interviewed as the princess-in-training.

"Do well. You don't have a failing option, okay?" Bridgette held me on both shoulders. If I was already five feet and seven inches, she landed another two inches.