The Moderate [a Vampire/Slave story]

~27~ The Moderate [a Vampire/Slave story]

Chapter 27

I rolled my eyes, thinking about the stupid things I said and took out a cigarette. Lighting it, I took it in my mouth and inhaled slowly, trying to calm myself down.

I hadn't meant to say those selfish things to Milton at all. They just came out of nowhere. And now Milton thought I was a selfish bitch who didn't care about his sister and her boyfriend's feelings, which was definitely not true.

Turning into a blonde hadn't done me much good; I had become crankier, self-centered, and vain. I spent more time than necessary staring in the mirror, admiring how good I looked and what I could do to make myself prettier. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to look as beautiful as I could for my Milton, but now I felt like a love sick high school girl; the type that I used to despise back when I was seventeen.

Why was I like this now? What had turned me into this kind of girl?

I knew the answer too well, but was refusing to break it to myself.

It was the lack of attention. Nobody ever noticed a traveler, and I had wanted more attention from men and women alike. I wanted women to be jealous of me and men to like me. Not having Milton around me for a year took its effects on me, and I became gradually more and more superficial.

Now that he was back, I no longer needed the extra makeup, the hair color, the nice clothes. Milton seemed to give me what I needed without making me feel like I was fake, because he liked me for who I was on the inside, not what I looked like on the outside. Now I got the feeling that he was displeased at my appearance, and wanted me to go back to my original self, although he would never force me to look a certain way. He was too considerate to stop me from doing what I wanted to my outlook.

I hated him because he would always be the good guy and I would always be the selfish brat. I needed to clean up my act, and fast. But I didn't want to do it in front of Milton. I needed to disappear somewhere, and improve myself there. If I talked about it to Milton, he wouldn't say anything, just tell me that I was fine the way I am, and just keep on hating me until he burst and couldn't take me anymore.

I didn't want that to happen. I knew I was being selfish, but Milton was something I couldn't afford to lose, like my brother, Edge. [A/N: I was looking back in my story a few weeks ago, and I noticed that I gave Edge a new name in one of the chapters, which was totally retarded, so let's just pretend that "Skip" is his nickname or something, okay? Thanks.]

Milton walked past my bedroom and our eyes locked. He stopped, but hurried off after the staring got too awkward to continue.

I didn't want to dye my hair brown that would be odd, to dye your hair your original color. I wanted it to return to its brown-at-top-blonde-at-bottom look, and get rid of the nasty chemicals and products I used in my hair.

Makeup was never something I enjoyed doing. It took so much time, and I never liked the results that came with the work. I always looked something made in China, fake, plastic, and too pretty, in a bad way. I only put on makeup to fit in with the California society. People were very picky about appearances in Los Angeles, since it was basically where the celebrities lived, and I had a need to look as good as everyone else.

I walked into the bathroom, and stared at my bag of makeup products. I felt like throwing them all away, but I decided to save them for special events that I would need makeup for in the future one day.

"Where's my hairspray?" I said to myself, tapping my chin and opening cabinet doors rapidly.

I found two cans of hairspray and placed them on the sink. I had makeup on today, which suddenly seemed repulsive to me, and I immediately removed the makeup gently.