Stand alone sequel to The Dare
The whole story isn't in third person, just this part.
"Ooh, the Darlington advert is on," the blonde haired woman smiled, pausing the TV and gently patting the seat on her left, her daughter looking at it reluctantly. She didn't want to watch the advert. In fact, she didn't know why she agreed to do it in the first place, modelling for her mum was stressful; the constant complaining and whining, the tight dresses that squeezed the air out of her. Modelling in general wasn't something she was very fond of, but because of lack of skill and actual talent, she pursued the modelling career anyways.
Her mother sighed deeply as her daughter Katie proceeded to stand there, a recently plucked eyebrow raised. "Mum I don't want to watch it, besides, I'll probably see it whilst I'm watching telly later on,"
"Katie sit," she knew when her mother had demanded her to do something, protesting wasn't an option, although in this case she had nothing else to do in the house anyways, so conceding was the only option.
Her mother eagerly pressed play as the screen revealed the silk dressing gown on Katie's shoulder, the instrumental of 'Flume - Never be like you' sounded in the background as she slowly took the gown off, the silk sliding off of her ivory skin and, somehow, gracefully hitting the floor. Her blonde locks bounced as she strut towards the navy blue dress on the mannequin on the other side of the room, wearing nothing but a bra and panties. She ran her hands down the dress, her perfectly manicured nails on show before it cut to the next scene of the dress being put on her.
Katie felt a sense of nostalgia as she watched the corset of the dress be tightened, the memory of not being able to breath for a good 30 seconds as the woman behind her tugged on the strings for an unnecessary long amount of time, causing her to roll her eyes.
The advert ended with Katie walking over to her dresser and putting the perfume onto her neck whilst raising a recently plucked brow and pouting a little. She placed it down and walked away, the image of a navy background and the bottle of perfume showing up. Katie mimed the 'iconic' line as they played the voice over of her saying: "Darlington. Class, costs nothing,"
Her mother squealed, "Oh Katie that was wonderful," she gushed, her hands on her rosy cheeks. Katie had even spotted a few tears roll down her cheek before turning around to face the screen.
It was shit. The advert hadn't intrigued her, nor had it convinced her to buy the bloody product. It looked stupid. She looked stupid.
Well at least that's what she thought anyways. She rewinded the ad to the part where she finished putting the perfume on, the camera shot zoomed in on her face. She took the time to observe her face, the bumps and scars that had been covered with copious amounts of make up and editing, covering everything that made Katie who she was.
It wasn't like Katie wanted them to show the real her. She didn't want to be the real her. She didn't want to go through what she went through. She didn't want to be the spawn of one of the two most famous people on the planet. She didn't want any of that.
She wanted happiness.
But you don't always get what you want do you?
"No one ever said being apart of a powerful group of rich people was easy,"
YOU ARE READING
Kingston's EliteTeen Fiction
#1 of THE E L I T E Series "No one ever said being apart of a powerful group of rich people was easy," *Warning, this is triggering and does include self harm, read at your own risk*