𝐿𝐼𝑉𝐸 𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐷𝑆 - 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑎 𝑜𝑛𝑒

𝒯𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒

The meal was placed in front of Amalia, but a single glance from her mother was enough to quell any appetite she might have had. Despite the gnawing emptiness in her stomach, Amalia felt her hunger dissipate under the weight of her mother's disapproval.

She had spent days meticulously sculpting her body to fit into the dress her mother had chosen, and the thought of undoing all that effort with a single meal felt like a betrayal to herself. The mere sight of the food made her envision the calories piling up on her stomach and thighs, erasing all her progress.

Instead of eating, Amalia pushed around and cut up her food as if she were participating in the meal, engaging in polite conversation and sipping her water. Years of practice in masking her disordered eating habits allowed her to carry on without drawing attention to herself. The waitstaff cleared the plates without a second thought, oblivious to the silent battle raging within Amalia.

Camille Schröder rose from her seat once more, her regal bearing commanding the attention of everyone in the room. With a self-satisfied smile playing on her lips, she began to speak, her voice ringing out with an air of entitlement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, tonight we gather to celebrate not only the achievements of our esteemed family but also the promising future that lies ahead," Camille began, her tone dripping with conceit. "It is with great pride that I stand before you as the matriarch of the Schröder family."

As she spoke, Camille's gaze flickered briefly to Amalia, a smug expression crossing her features. "I am particularly delighted to announce the continued success of my daughter, Amalia," she continued, her words laced with thinly veiled arrogance. "Her recent triumphs on the racetrack have brought honor and glory to our family name, proving once again that the Schröders are a force to be reckoned with in every sphere of life."

Amalia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her discomfort palpable as her mother continued to extol her virtues for the benefit of their guests. It was a familiar pattern – Camille basking in the reflected glory of her daughter's achievements, all the while neglecting to acknowledge the sacrifices and struggles that lay beneath the surface.

Amalia found herself almost believing her mother's words, though the emphasis on "almost" lingered in her mind. Camille had never truly supported her ambition to pursue racing, let alone congratulated her on any of her achievements, whether they were race-related or in life. However, Camille did enjoy claiming Amalia's accomplishments as her own, taking credit for all the hard work and diminishing Amalia to nothing more than a small step stool in her grand narrative of success.

"And so, I raise my glass to my beloved daughter, Amalia," Camille concluded, a self-satisfied smile gracing her features. "May she continue to shine brightly, bringing honor and prestige to our illustrious family for years to come."

Finishing her speech, the guests clapped politely before they were excused. Slowly, one by one, each guest trickled out of the Schröder home, leaving behind an air of tension and unresolved emotions.

Exhausted from the party, Amalia made her way up to her room, pausing briefly to kiss her father on the cheek and wish him a good night. Climbing the grand staircase felt like a monumental task; her body weighed down with fatigue, her stomach aching with hunger, her feet throbbing from the discomfort of her high heels, and her dress starting to feel suffocating.

Upon reaching her room, Amalia was relieved to kick off her high heels and shed her overly expensive dress. With a sigh of relief, she wiped off her makeup and changed into her comfortable pajamas before finally climbing into bed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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