The Guy I Once Knew

Plotting for revenge

While Violetta was having a ball at Francesca's house, she was unaware of the conspiracies being plotted against her. It was silly, the reason for the big master plan to bring her down. The plan was being hatched by two people, the younger of which was a teenage girl. Her black strappy Jimmy Choo heels clicked against the polished marble floor as she entered the room, her long blond hair swishing behind her.

"So what's the plan?" she asked as she settled down on a plush velvet armchair, crossing her legs in a ladylike way.

"It's simple. We have the required evidence, so all we have to do is present it in front of the target." Said the other half of the plot, who was an older woman. She was in her late thirties (though she refused to acknowledge that fact). She tucked away a stray lock of her dark hair as she looked over her 'evidence' with great pride and earnestness.

"Are you sure that'll be enough to make him snap?" the former asked.

"Like a twig," the latter replied arrogantly. "Trust me, Ludmila. This will work perfectly. We just need the right person to do it."

"I'm obviously the ideal person to do it," Ludmila said.

"You know, you're not the brightest bulb in the box," the older woman told her in an irritated tone.

"And you're obviously not the prettiest flower in the vase. It hurts my eyes, but I'm not complaining." Ludmila countered.

"Whatever. Anyway, you can't be the one to do it." the woman replied.

"Why not?" Ludmila whined.

"Because, we need a fresh face. Nobody from the studio should recognize the person." The older woman walked across the room to a table. She picked up a camera - the kind professional photographers use - and began polishing the lens delicately. As she stared into the city lights outside the window, she said to herself, "That brat is going down. She ruined my love life, now I'm going to ruin hers." She set the camera back down on the table and ran a perfectly manicured hand over some scattered photographs beside it. These pictures were odd, candid shots of two particular people. One of them displayed a boy and girl, both brown haired, laughing at an ice-cream parlor. Another one of them had the two of them kissing, and numerous others showed them hugging.

"Aunt Jade?" Ludmila asked. "Just out of curiosity, why do you hate her so much?"

"Oh darling, I haven't told you the story?" Jade asked her niece. "It happened a few months ago in Madrid..."

"I was working for Violetta's father as his assistant back then. He was a wonderful man, German Castillo. Charming, tall and very, very handsome. And, of course, to add to the clicheness of it all, he was rich and hard to get. Before I knew it, I was falling for him. But he was a troubled man. His wife had just died, and I wanted to do anything in my power to help him get over it. His daughter, Violetta, struck me as a pretty, inncocent little girl. Harmless, even. I thought she would mind her own business. But no."

"What happened?" Ludmila gasped.

"My brother had just lost his job. We were broke, and my salary wasn't enough for the both of us. So we decided to transfer a little money from German's bank account into ours. Violetta was spying on me while I was at his computer. She caught me red handed and I was fired, and the money was taken back from us."

Ludmila stood up. "That witch! Couldn't she just keep her nose out of it?"

"I want my revenge now. Ludmi, we need more evidence." Jade said maliciously.

Ludmila grinned evilly. "I know just how we can make that happen."