Opposites Attract

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Victoria

"Miss Victoria, Miss Victoria!" I hear. It's a joke, Dawn never really calls me that. I get up from my bed with a sigh, because the Tempur Pedic mattress is really comfortable.

"Yes, Dawn?" Dawn is my nanny, servant, helper... I'm not really sure what you'd say. Anyways, she's been around the mansion for as long as I can remember. Mansion. I hate that word. It makes me sound so... stuffy, upright, and generally stuck up. I am none of the above! At least, I don't think I am.

I hope I am not. It's just that my parents make a lot of money - they both work in a "family company" is what they call it. They own an electronics company. Phones, laptops, desktops, flatscreens, any type of electronic object that you can think of has probably gone through their brand before.

"You have a visitor." Dawn says, poking her head in. Now that I've told you she's a nanny or servant, you probably imagine a French maid, dressed in blue and white with a little duster. No. She is dressed in black skinny jeans, black boots, and a bright pink tank top. Her auburn hair falls in curls down her back, and I can see her lips pressed together to keep from laughing. Even though she's in her late thirties, she still looks like she's twenty one.

I groan. If she's holding laughter in, I know what's happening. Outside the door, there is some crazy reporter asking to see me to have an interview. That means I have to put on fancy clothes, put makeup on, act like my life is the best in the entire world, and my parents and I have a bond like crazy glue.

"Send them in..." I moan, frustrated with my life.

"Okay! Have fun!" Dawn winks at me and I glare at her. She closes the door. I push a mirror sliding door aside to reveal my closet. It's huuuuuge, but I really don't like having so many clothes. I pull a green dress off its hanger and slip it on. It has thin spaghetti straps and goes down to just above my knees. I pull some high stiletto heels on (ugh, they hurt my feet so much!) and run a comb through my hair quickly. I have to run to the bathroom, my heels going "clop clomp clop clomp" all down the tiled hallway. I wet my comb and run it through my hair again, and it stops frizzing up.

Then, I go back into my room and straighten up a little, just in case the reporter wants to see it. I slide the mirror back into place and glance at myself. Earrings! Necklace! Mom would be quite annoyed if I went out without that! I pull a silver choker with a light green glass flower on it and matching earrings out of my jewelry box and put them on. Then I walk quickly down the hall, getting my perfect princess face on.

"Hello, Victoria! It's so nice to see you!" A middle-aged woman gushes, jumping up from one of our comfortable, cushioned leather chairs she has been sitting on, "I'm Maia Jones. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions, darling?" She reaches over like she's going to pinch my cheek - I'm NOT three years old anymore! So I lean back and instead shake her hand. She looks startled, then the fake smile quickly comes back onto her face, glued there. "Would you mind if I asked you a couple questions, then?" Her foot taps on the floor, a quick rhythm, taptaptaptaptaptaptap, waiting for my obvious answer.

"Of course!" I smile at her, "Can we sit down?"

"Yes, let us." She smiles at me. Again. Ugh, "So, how does a normal week day go for you?"

"Well, I get up, say hello to my parents, and eat a fresh gourmet breakfast. Then, I leave for school. I eat lunch at school and come home or go to my parent's office. After that, if I've come home, I do my homework, eat a snack, and maybe go out shopping. It's so fun! Then my parents come home and we all sit down to dinner together. I just love it!" I smile at her, lying. What actually happens? Well, I get up, my parents rush out the door without saying anything except something like, "Did you finish that report?" or, "Make sure to come straight home after school!" or, "That interview wasn't too good last night, you really must get a nicer looking smile in the pictures next time!" After that, Dawn drives me to school, I eat lunch at school, and then am either stuck at my parent's office or at home. I do homework and eat a snack, but only go out shopping occasionally. I eat dinner alone or with Dawn and my parents grab something to eat and disappear into their home offices. That is my REAL life. Not my magazine, famous life.

"Oh, that sounds wonderful!"

"Yes, it is."

"Are there any downsides to this wonderful, glossy, fabulous life you're living, though? Something not amazing hiding below the surface?"

Not really paying attention, I answer, "A little bit, you know, my parents don't really pay much attention to me, half the time it's like I could just not be here. I see them, like, two times a week sometimes... Dawn takes care of me at lot of the time."

"Excuse me... what?" Miss Maia Jones stares at me, eyelids fluttering, mouth slightly open in shock, "What?" She repeats.

"Just kidding... haha!" I fake a laugh. It doesn't work.

Maia Jones is staring at me like I've just grown five new heads and started squawking like a chicken. Great. "So, we wouldn't want this to get out to the public, now would we?" She says in an annoying, nasally whine.

I give a little laugh, "What get out to the public, Maia? What harm could it do? I was only joking!" I laugh again, but this time, I'm pretty sure it sounds nervous. Craaaap. I'm DEAD! Mom and Dad are going to murder me! The company is going to go down if anyone finds out that if they aren't the "perfect parents" with a nice Mom who works part time at the office and the other time bakes chocolate chip cookies, and the strong Dad who works full time but has enough time for his little daughter, always. And his little daughter, me, has to be perfectly satisfied and content with her life. I am completely, completely DEAD. End of story.

Maia Jones clicks the pen, smiles at me, and gets up to leave.