The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 159

I take in my tired pale reflection and sigh again as Janetta fusses around out in the lounge laying out my clothes. She offered to come with me to my show after she found me crying and ended up telling her why I was so upset. She tried to defend him, of course she would, as she adores the very ground he walks on, much like most people who know him. I block her out. Just so low, deflated, and empty.

It feels like going to graduation and having none of your loved ones show up for you. Or a birthday bash where your best friend doesn’t bother to show face.

I told her it was okay, I would rather just face this alone, get it done and come home and avoid the after party. Biggest moment in my year just became something I have to endure and wish I didn’t have to go at all. I want it to be over and done with, so I can forget it all.

There’s a knock on the door, even though it’s only eight am and I look around in confusion from my open bedroom door. Janetta toddles up towards the door as I wait with a held breath and slowly emerge to see who the hell would be here at this time. It’s not like we know anyone who would randomly pop by at any hour.

She opens the door to reveal a huge bunch of white roses and that anger spikes again. The rage I have still brewing for my brown eyed prick of a boyfriend comes back with fury.

Arry and his trademark apology that he should know will never work on me, he can go fuck himself for sure. These flowers will go the same way the ones he tried to give me two years ago will go… Right out the god damn window. I hate that he’s trying to redeem himself in this way. Did he really learn nothing from that one time, and here I thought he was a guy who learned a lesson and heeded it!

White flowers? Really? White flag of idiocy. NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

She goes and takes the bunch of flowers from the delivery man without looking my way and reveals a sight that literally shocks me to the core.

“Hey, hey, beautiful lady.” Christian stands in my doorway with a massive grin and even bigger present between his ankles all wrapped up in silver paper. He’s like a rainbow on a grey cloudy day and I’m overwhelmed with the squeal that comes out of me involuntarily. On my feet fast and racing to him to throw myself into the best hug ever.

“How the… ??? Where did??” I’m speechless, unsure how the hell he got here if Arrick could not get a flight from New York and I’m suddenly crazily over suspicious as I lean back while hanging around his neck.

“Your beloved called me to find out if I was in London yet… Only got in there last night and had to rush to get a flight over here… He didn’t have to bribe me much, but I did make him suffer. What an ass missing your big day and I told him that.” Christian’s my sunny warm day after a shitty cold winter and I have to stifle the sob of relief building up and ready to consume me.

I throw myself back at him, wrapping him up in a much-needed second hug and immediately drop wet tears on my cheek with the sheer happiness at seeing him. That someone I love is here to hold my hand in this. Someone who really matters to me and understands the importance of this day.

“Oh my god, I’m crazy happy that you are here.” I squeeze him and can’t help the little sobs that escape me as I do. Christian crushing me half to death with his man arms that he has clearly been working out.

“Well, you’re lucky school had us all over to London for the weekend. I have to head back after your show, but I couldn’t leave you flying solo. Arrick paid for my flights and asked me to bring you this. My little Diva.” He picks up the box at his feet and hands it to me, but I glare at it, take it slowly and then walk away and lay it on the couch without opening it.

“He can go fuck himself.” I repeat sternly, even though he sent me one of my best friends, it doesn’t excuse his lack of presence; despite being overjoyed that Chris is here, I still wish it was Arry.

It should have been Arrick. I can’t forgive that right now.

“Ouch, so I guess you are still blocking his calls?” Christian eyes me warily and watches me from the door. Janetta has now pulled him inside so she can close it and wanders off to the kitchen with the flowers in hand.

“Are they from you or him?” I ask Chris pointedly and watch him visibly turn from smiling cheekily to a serious frown.

“If I say ‘him’ are you going to behead them?” He looks suddenly afraid for the life of the roses and in a second it answers me.

“Janetta, please take them to your own apartment; I don’t want them.” I nod at her as she looks from me to Christian, holds her tongue and nods as she makes her way to the front door instead, to relive my presence of them immediately.

“Babes, come on, Arry is totally gutted he can’t be here. All he has done is text me like a stalker every half hour to make sure I picked them up and your little gift and was heading here. He’s going crazy over this, and that you won’t talk to him. You know how easily his life falls to shit when his Princess blanks him.” Christian long ago landed in the love side of Arry and has had split loyalty ever since. I glare coolly at him and shake my head, not backing down in how hurt and angry I still am at him. He knew what this meant, he promised me. Gifts are Arrick’s fall back for when he fucks up and even though it works for various dumb Carrero decisions; not this time, not with this.

“Don’t! If you want to live, then that name is a dirty word today and I do not want to hear it.” I move to my room again to finish getting ready. Even though I’m dressed, I need to put on a ton of make up to hide my awful pallor and dark circles caused by tossing and turning all night.

“I said he could call my cell and I would convince you to…”

“Not a chance. I mean it. STOP! My mind is made up, he’s in the doghouse and I don’t want to speak to him or think about him until after my show is done.” My nerves are stretched so far, they may snap again, and my head is crazily turned inside out. I’m sick, strung out and just not able to cope with the addition of any Arrick Carrero chat about now. His groveling would make me a hundred times worse.

My head has one focus. Getting through this show without some sort of emotional breakdown and coming home to deal with my anger and upset over my dickhead boyfriend who I presume is not coming home anytime soon. When Christian leaves to get his flight back to London, then I will deal with Arry. I know I told him not to come back, but part of me hoped that he would still make the effort. That he would still show up.

Stupid girl.

“Well, you know all flights today got grounded from New York, too, right? Bad weather! He did say there was a good chance he wouldn’t be able to come and get back in time if he couldn’t get a flight today before dinner. He has some boring thing going on that’s tying him up.” Christian carries on innocently and it pretty much answers my question. I shake my head, don’t answer even though it’s another stab to the heart and frown at him coldly, giving him a final warning.

Arrick isn’t coming back if he still needs to be there, even if I’m ghosting him and refusing to talk. I know him. He will want to come here, but if he has commitments in the form of a meeting or something Carrero related, he’ll stay and hope to come back right after to fix this. His need to do the right thing and not let his family down in business matters will override his need to drop it all and rush back to me. He knows deep down that with us, the damage is done, and he can’t change that. He cannot fix missing my show and leaving me alone, even if he did send a stand in. He will stay, do what needs to be done then come home with every tool in his arsenal to grovel and try to make this right. Which I doubt he can. I hate knowing him this well.

I am so pissed at him.

“Shouldn’t we already be there. Christian eyes me over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror as I quickly apply my war paint and frown harder. Extra concealer on my blotchy tear stained pallor.

“No. Models and beauty teams were in at six, we don’t need to go until nine, as the show starts at ten… I just need to do this, and we’ll go. My driver is taking us today instead of walking it. It’s not far, but in this weather, I would look like a drowned rat and I can’t deal with a walk today.”

“Don’t hate him, Sophs… The guy is devastated that he’s missing this and asked me to film the entire thing on my cell.” Christian is now frowning, pleading puppy eyes honed on mine as I regard him coolly. That blonde hair flopping over one gorgeous blue eye that is fluttering dramatically. Christian is still a beautiful looking boy, but he seems to be adopting a very non-gender style nowadays and sporting some false lashes and pink lips to go with his Louis Vuitton black suit and pink bag.

“Don’t bother… it’s being filmed for an internet channel. If he really wanted to see it, he would be here.” I sound harsh, cold, indifferent, even though inside I’m still bleeding and breaking but I have more important things to think about.

***

“Oh my god, this is awesome… I cannot wait until mine in a month!!” Christian is standing in the curtains to the main stage, peeking out excitedly, bouncing on his toes, as my flow of models walk in and out, tended to by the dressers. I’m tweaking them the second they walk out to the pre-stage area, adjusting them, running a dust wand over and smoothing them out before okaying them. A pin cushion on my wrist and a mouthful of bobby pins for last second tailoring on the figures of the models who are sashaying in an orderly line out onto the raised catwalk. Music blaring from back here and the muffled voice of the commentator as he occasionally talks over it.

The nerves are still here but being focused on task, crazily busy and dealing with what I am doing so it all runs smoothly, I’ve not got a second to even think or feel anything much. My head is blank to

everything but my designs and my responsibilities to pull my slot off without a hitch.

I realize that if Arry was here he would have been pointless anyway, standing pretty much where Christian is with a lot less enthusiasm and watching my string of outfits go out and be showcased. He’s supportive, but he doesn’t have the same love of fashion as I do, or Christian does. At best, Arry is a great dresser, he likes to look good, but he isn’t that interested in clothes in general or shopping for them and most of the time I pick his clothes for him nowadays. I guess part of me kind of is letting up on him a little about his lack of absence, but I’m still hurt that he let me down. He broke a promise, something he rarely does and when I add it on top of the shit few months we have been having together, it feels bigger than life.

I tuck and pleat in the waist of the next model; she’s a huge six foot in heels and crazily thin with almost milk white skin and I kind of wonder at the beauty industry standard of model. To me she is skeletal and pale and not all that beautiful; too many harsh bones sticking out and my clothes would look a hell of a lot better on some real curves and real women. I never made them to hang on corpses.

“Sophie!!!!! … I can see Nadine Hellegar from Runway’s Finest, in the front aisle, she keeps taking pictures with her cell. She is taking notes. Gurlllll!! I think you’re onto a winner.” Christian is crazily hyper and excited, and I have to admit that it’s infectious, and I’m really glad he’s here with me. He has a way of lifting my mood and making me feel less devastated. He was one of my reasons for keeping upbeat and sane when Arry and I parted ways a couple years ago, and times like this remind me of how I got through it. Why being here has made me feel so alone this past year. I needed my friends as much as I need Arry.

I try not to let that little bit of information about Nadine knock me off balance, gawp at how important her magazine is as I pat my model on the back and nod for her to go. I pin the fabric in place on the next one, solely just concentrating on getting through this. My insides tying themselves in knots and thankfully having my mouth full of pins means no one expects a response. I don’t think I could speak if I wanted to.

Christian is keeping me focused and at least with him here I won’t have to face Claude alone afterwards. He keeps perusing backstage and watching me from afar. It’s making the hair of my neck stand on edge and feel uneasy. I don’t get what his newfound interest in me is, but I’m betting it has a lot to do with the little scene I caught backstage in the storage walkway earlier.

He was arguing with Vivien in French and she tried to hug him, but he pushed her away, said something harshly and left her standing alone before walking off. She stood sobbing and calling after him, but he repeated something in a cruel tone and left her there. They never saw me, but it’s been playing in the back of my mind that maybe they have been sleeping together on the fly. It would explain her superior attitude towards everyone in class, the way she thinks she’s untouchable. She’s around twenty-two and he is well into his late forties or early fifties, even if he looks younger. I’m sure it crosses so many rules in the student teacher contract or whatever they abide by. I shake it out of my head and get back to what I am doing. Not my business nor my problem.

My models all look amazing and the beauty and hair team have done an astounding job of matching make up to my clothes. The hair styles are out of this world and everything is pulling together so nicely. I keep getting the flashes of cameras every time the curtain swings back slightly with every new girl coming off the left and again the nausea hits hard.

These pictures, the video and all the critic of every fashion guru sat in the two hundred strong audience will be all over the internet by midnight. This is an annual affair, and this could literally make or break me. That thought alone is enough to make my blood run cold and dizziness sweeps over me with force that almost knocks me off my heels with a wave of lightheadedness.