Mon amour | discontinued

part two

Bella | f1 men are the hottest
insomniac- a person who is unable to sleep

•••

I haven't slept properly all week, I'm fucking exhausted. Maybe it's the time difference.

Jet lagged?

Is that even real?

It's just fucking confusing. The nightmares haven't stopped, I thought that a change of scenery would help but it all still haunts me. Every night I see him again and again, the wicked smiles and taunting words.

I start at Paris fashion school next week, it's been my dream since I was little and it's finally coming true, when I was a child and we didn't have any money my mother would make our clothes and she was good at it.

I had to put off collage because of money, so when I got a scholarship I jumped out of the opportunity to leave the shit hole I grew up in, plus Amelie had always wanted to have her own cafe in Paris.

Her passion was always baking and I thank her for that because I can't cook for shit.

It was a Win-win.

My cousin made a new friend actually, the only person I've talked to is the pretty guy from the cafe and Coco, she makes for good conversation.

Hopefully once school starts I'll have more friends.

I know the guy from the cafe gave me his number but I haven't called it yet, I'm having a war in my head, a million different outcomes and possibilities run through my head.

I'm gonna call him. Just casual. He gave you his number, he wants you to call. Right?

I pick up my phone and the piece of paper that lies on my bedside table, I look at it and analyse the number written down. When did he have time to write this?

Whatever.

I and press call and on the third ring I hear a familiar British accent ask, "Hello?", his accent drawing me in even more and my curiosity is piqued.

"Hey! Um it's the girl from the cafe last week, I kinda need a tour guide. So are you up for it?" I say to him while putting on the innocent act.

It's fun to play with them sometimes, make them think they can corrupt me and ruin me all the while  they realise they need me and they become obsessed with the innocent little blonde girl.

It's funny, because they never expect it.

"I'll pick you up in twenty, share your location" I hear his deep voice say through the phone, it's a voice that commands attention and authority.

The line goes cold, leaving me no room to answer. I scramble away, nearly tripping on the suitcase that lies on the ground while I find something to wear.

I put on a brown top that hugs my body and goes to my belly button and I pair it with a brown zebra print skirt that reaches my mind thighs and a beige shoulder bag.

I curl my hair in a couple places and fluff it up at the crown of my head while just putting some concealer, mascara and brown eyeliner to make my eyes pop out.