The three of us stood together on the platform with bright smiles on our faces. With me in the middle, between my parents, we are able to portray the "perfect family" that we are. We thank the many compliments we receive from the press and await for the ribbon cutting ceremony to begin.
My family had just opened up a new chain of hotels going from LA to overseas, The Lunaire Estate. The Bel Air neighborhood is where the main hotel will be located, it's the startup point. What made the hotel so significant was not only the high luxury, but that 8% of its proceeds made would go to charity. The portion about charity is what my mother was not happy about the other day when she called me. After the design had been set and the hotel was under construction my mother cleaned her hands and left the project for me to take care of. So, because of this I took it upon myself to alter some of the details. Already, at the start of the project did I know we would make millions in the first week, so why not donate some to those who actually need it? For the past two months there has been a waiting list for those wanting to book a room, its insane. And tonight over 2,000 of the wealthiest people would be staying here.
Now, we were only 20 minutes from the ribbon cutting ceremony.
"Mr. and Mrs. Luna may we take your picture for our headlines?" The photographer asked after squeezing his way through the crowd.
"Of course," my mother said through her fake smile. Before pulling us together she slightly leaned into my ear and turned so nobody would hear her whispering to me. "Gracias a Dios (thank god), I had an outfit sent over to you this morning, lord knows what atrocities you would have shown up in." Desperately, did I want to roll my eyes, but I refrained and just nodded.
This morning I awoke to my doorbell ringing in a nonstop manner. When I finally got to the door I found it was my mothers pesky assistant with an outfit for me. She threw it at me and simply said, "Where this, it's from your mother." It was an off-white floral Ralph Lauren dress with small hints of yellow on each of the flowers. I decided to pair the dress with some nude heels.
As much as I love donating to charity, I wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but here. I hate nothing more than being with my parents. Although my dad hardly ever spoke, the man was practically a dog that followed my mother. He complied to everything she said which only contributed to her nasty attitude. And to add to it all, when he wasn't working he was just drinking himself into oblivion. I'm not sure how the media lacked in paying attention to this, it's so obvious. As a kid I didn't understand why he drank so much and to this day I still don't know why, but I like to think that if I were him it would be to drown out my shitty, recurring life as well.
"1..2..3." The photographer counted down. Many flashes went off seconds later.
"How lovely, you look just like your mother Adrianna."
"Oh god, please don't ever say that," I pleaded in my head. But it was the sad truth; I looked like a younger version of my mother but with my fathers once brown hair.
I mentally cringed at our image but thanked the photographer.
"Miss. Luna this project proposal was very innovative; where did you come up with the idea of donating?"
I'm about to speak out, until my mothers pinches my arm from behind and vocalizes her point, "Well I've always been pleased with helping out the community so I figured why not help those who are unfortunate around the world. I'm so happy that my beliefs were able to be transpired onto my sweet Adrianna!"
The reporters eat up her lies and jot down everything. Can I get out of here any sooner?
"Alright, I think it's time we cut the ribbon," my father finally proclaimed after not having spoken a word the entire time. He just wants to leave because he has a bottle of Bourbon awaiting him.
Seconds later, a woman brings a pair of large gold scissors and hands them to me. Well, at least I'll get the honors in cutting the ribbon. My mother already took ownership of the project, the least she can let me do is cut a damn piece of fabric.
I prepare to cut, when my mother taps me on the shoulder, "Darling, don't you think it would be wise to let your mother cut the ribbon, it is my project after all." I glance out to see if anyone has heard her statement, and in fact the whole front row of reports has. "Why certainly," I say with consideration. A bunch of "awwws" come from crowd. I guess I spoke too soon.
Once my mother cuts the ribbon, hundreds upon hundreds of pictures are taken. We then go inside to ensure everything is up and running. Gradually the guests come in and the reporters linger outside for anymore information they can obtain about what's to come. I make my rounds through the main hall to ensure all our new guests are getting comfortable. So far so good!
"Miss. Luna, you just received a text message, would you like your phone?" My assistant Mary whispers discreetly. Typically, I don't go on my phone at large events or around my family. One because I would appear rude and uninterested and two because my mother is a bitch about phones. For this reason, Mary will hold my phone and inform me if anything urgent comes up.
I direct her a few feet away from where we are standing. "Who is it from?"
Mary looks around and then focuses her eyes back onto me. "Umm, your business partner."
Her words are so soft that what she says is nearly inaudible. "Who?" I ask again. Mary looks around again and then places one of her hands to cradle her bump. "Mr. Abernathy," she whispers again but more clearly. "Well, what does he want? I said not to inform me on anything with unimportantance."
"But, he said it was urgent and I also needed to ask if I can head out early for a doctor's appointment."
Ever since Mary told me about her pregnancy I have allowed her to leave whenever is needed, I understand that she is doing everything for two now and should stress less. Nevertheless, she continues tends to my needs first.
"Mary, you don't need to ask for permission every time; I get it your carrying a watermelon." She smiles and rubs her belly. "Thank you, and today marks 6 months with my little melon!"
"Congratulations, soon you'll be no more months with a screaming infant."
Mary lets out an awkward chuckle. Lord, I'm terrible with pregnant women or babies; I just never know how to approach the situation. Women get really motherly and kind suddenly and I guess it's kinda off putting for me.
"Anyways, you should get going. You don't want to be late to your appointment."
"Alrighty," she says while handing me my phone. I watch her waddle out and internally thank that it's her that's pregnant and not me. I could not handle a child; I barely manage with myself.
Now back to "urgent matters."
Carefully I ensure my phone isn't visible and then text Brooks.
Yes, what is so urgent?
I stuff my phone into the pockets my dress and then go back to making my rounds. As I'm talking to the secretary of the state I feel my phone buzz. Ignoring the message I continue with my conversation until my phone began buzzing nonstop. No one can hear the messages coming in but the annoying buzzing is irritating. Quickly, I wrap up the conversation and then head towards a more secluded area. Opening my messages I find 6 texts from Brooks. The first is a picture of me, in which I'm smiling with my parents.
You are so fake.
I don't know how you manage to hold yourself together and not strangle everyone around you.
No one may notice, but I can tell you would rather get hit by a car than stand there.
Anyways everything is set for the Cinco de Mayo trip.
I'll leave you be now, have fun in hell.
That's what he urgently had to tell me? I roll my eyes.
Thanks, I will!
I put my phone away and can't help realizing that I'm smiling like a child. Sometimes that man will be the death of me. "Adrianna, where the fuck have you been?" My mother's harsh words are vocalized through her clenched teeth. "I was fixing something, why?" She huffs a breath of annoyance and points towards the main hall. "Get your ass over there. I don't want to see your lazy ass doing nothing again. Now get out of my sight."
"Yes, mother." My simple words hurt to utter, but I don't want to argue with her and allow the woman to bother me anymore. She is not someone I want to add to my platter of business to handle.