LITTLE MISS PETTY

DEDICATION: To them that were tagged as mean girls, as everyone praised the pick-MEs. COMMENTS MAKE ME SMILE🙃❄️ CHLOÉ WILLIAMSON'S P.O.V: And there I sat in the midst of seven other girls in the studio. All our headsets and mics on for the world to hear us speak. To hear me talk as they all judged me. Fuck them. I was invited to 106.7 Nena's Crib FM for a special girl talk segment. Since I broke André and I's unfortunate union, the world has been dying to hear what happened. I wasn't going to tell them. All the questions about my engagement that was throw at me from Nena and her squad, I evaded them all. I didn't owe anyone a f*****g explanation. I preferred the world feeding on the rumors about me and what happened. Some people think I am a home wrecker and a man snatcher. But then confusion started when my ex-fiancé's CURRENT fiancée or should I say WIFE now, bumped into me at Rodeo Drive and we seemed somewhat.....calm and civil. A blog carried a picture of us and said we were friends and André came in between. More rumors spiraled out of control when I showed up for Gabriella's wedding. I still did not understand why she was trying to be friends with me. Did she pity me? She dare not...I don't need her pity. I'm Chloé Williamson. Williamsons are known for their pride and ego. I might not be like André and that psychotic bastard that are both undiagnosed egomaniacs, but I'm somewhere. With a smile, I said; "I believe we came here to talk about Pseudo-feminism, not my failed relationship." My eyebrow arched as I stared at every one of their nosy faces. Invaders of privacy. They all kept quiet at what I said. * On the ride home after the awful interview, I got a series of calls from my Mother and my little sister. Since the 'breakup', my family has been breathing down my neck. Maybe my sister thinks I'll commit suicide because of the scandal. "That interview was horrendous! Why would you agree to such a thing?! They made you look like a...." My mother fiddled with her words trying to find the perfect description. "A gold-digging, boyfriend-snatching, and home-wrecking b***h?" My immediate younger and quiet sister —Courtney Williamson said before dwelling her attention back into her phone. "Courtney! Don't say that." Kylie, the baby of the family spoke as she scolded our middle sister. Although I loved both my sisters, I have always had a special connection with Kylie the minute she came into this clown show of a family. Other than one other person, sincerely, Kylie is the only member of this f****d up family that actually gives two shits about my wellbeing. And actually....understands me. Just like....No, we are not going down that road tonight. "Courtney." Our mother — Carina Williamson cautioned. "What mom? Isn't that what you've been training me to do?" I picked up my fork and knife. "And besides, I personally like being called a b***h. It's my signature personality." I rolled my eyes before diving into my pasta. Nausea hits my stomach. It's pasta. I dropped my cutleries and shifted back. "What happened?" The obviously fake concern in my mother's tone does not fail to show. "Oops...I forgot to tell the new Chef you hate pasta." "Mom." Kylie glared at her with disdain. "Mistake, mistake." She surrendered her perfectly manicured hands in the air. "I just wonder, how would you have managed being the wife of a Lombardi? They love their culture so much that it's mostly Italian food that gets served at their residence." "You don't need to tell us. You practically forced us to grow up with them. Especially that b***h called Andrea." Courtney furiously typed on her phone as she spat out venom. "Don't talk about my friend like that!" Kylie got defensive. "Oh shut up Kylie." Courtney rolled her eyes. "COURTNEY!" I shouted. "Lower your voice!" My mother attacked me. "As I was saying, I truly wonder how you would have managed. You hate almost all the Italian cuisines, especially pasta. Tell me, how would you have coped? It's evident that you couldn't fit the role. I overestimated you, Chloé. You disappoint me." Resent held in her eyes like she wasn't just glaring at her own flesh and blood. "Eat the pasta." "I can't." I muttered. "Mom stop it!" Kylie slammed the table as she stood up. "Sweetheart, we can't waste food. She has to—" "Of course we can waste food." A deep and masculine voice seeped through the air, cutting Mother off. All four of us turned our attention to the man in his mid fifties as he stood at the door of the dining room with Uncle Richard by his side. "DADDY!" Although my sisters and I were all grown up and in our twenties, it didn't stop us from 'letting loose' like mother would call it, and running to our father as he stood there with opened arms. "My three musketeers!" He said with a big grin as the three of us embraced his chubby body. His arms caught all of us as he placed kisses on each of our foreheads. "Oh Lord, you guys are growing up so fast." My father —Carlos Williamson stared at us with nostalgic love and fatherly compassion. He's been away for eight months in Ireland after he got a firm position at the United Nations. My mother coughed, making all of us turn to her as she stood and gracefully came to curtly welcome her husband. My parents relationship differed so much from the relationship my friends' parents had. For example, the Anna and Andrew Lombardi. They had a rocky start, but everyone know how mad and insane the tyrant Andrew can be for his wife. He worships her. But my parents, I believe they lost their spark as they grew older. Although my father was ten years older than my mother, even in his mid fifties, he was handsome and still quite the ladies men with his cute beer belly. He was the definition of a rich and chubby sugar daddy. Even though my daddy possessed many...girlfriends, I still loved him and respected him WAY more than the woman who gave birth to me. We all did. His cheating escapades were as a result of...revenge to mom. A retaliation. Daddy was the reason why there was a dinner happening tonight and why I was here. He was back after almost a year away from all of us. Without him, this house was always dull and quiet. My mother's infuriating attitude drove me crazy and after two months of Daddy's absence, so I moved out. Despite the dinner starting out awful, he immediately brought back light into the house with him. My mother was quiet throughout and just stared at how her husband managed to make Courtney voluntarily drop her phone and focus on the dinner. "Why is my daughter being served pasta?" Daddy looked at my plate as I sat at the right hand side of him, while he took his position as head of the Victorian inspired table. Everyone kept quiet as he ordered the staffs to serve Ice cream and cake for dinner. My favorite things to devour. No one needed to tell me, I am Daddy's favorite. I once thought it was Kylie but I got back to my pretty and petty senses. Mother wanted to interject and start off her unwanted speech about the dangers of too much calories, but Daddy immediately cut her off by stuffing a spoonful of rainbow colored ice cream into her mouth. They were certainly different. Daddy was carefree and parent-material. But Mother wasn't. She only cared about looking good in front of the camera, marrying wealthy and not rich men, and finally....having MANY sons. Courtney, Kylie and I got the message clear from her that she was not happy about having three daughters and zero sons. Unlike her, Daddy didn't care about gender, he spoiled us rotten but made sure we were going to be our own Knights in shining armor. He took us for gun practicing, archery, bungee jumping, so many self defense classes, and car racing when I turned eighteen. Because of his influence, my choice of cars have been seen as too wild, fast, and crazy for a woman. f**k them, I'll still ride in my blue Czinger 21C to Starbucks drive through and order a Grande Caramel Brûlée Latte. Mom's favorite might be Kylie because she's the only one between the three of us that has that fairytale mindset in her head. I might be Queen Bee, but she was definitely a princess in the eyes of our parents. Courtney believes why Mother loves Kylie the most is because she looks like her dead sister. Courtney and I were biological sisters, but Kylie was not. It was beyond evident to everyone around. Why? Not because we treated her differently, no. It was because all of us had dark brown hair. All except her. She inherited her mother's very bright and blonde hair with the blue eyes Mom and her sister shared. But this didn't stop the love from touching Kylie. Blonde or not, she was the princess of the house. Mother and Daddy adored the hell out of her and got her everything she wanted. I was Daddy's favorite, yes. But even Daddy's favorite could see they protected her the most. She had always been innocent and had a very imaginative mind towards love. She craved to have one to call her own. It's honestly funny how she isn't married yet considering she truly is the most beautiful amongst the three of us. As for the rebel of the house — Courtney, well... Courtney was the quiet sister. But still the sister that gave our parents headaches and heart attacks the most. She was the definition of rebellion in millions of ways. Yet somehow, you'd barely hear her voice. Until when she speaks, the whole world crumbles. I love my sister but she was a very angry child when growing up. Our family appeared so perfect for the camera. Carlos Williamson — One of the most prominent figures in the U.N, with his evergreen beautiful housewife — Carina. Both of them blessed with three amazing daughters. Courtney with her quiet beauty and brains, Kylie with her amazing charisma and untouchable presence in the international fashion industry, and ME. The girl that has been painted as a gold digger that tried to steal the Lombardi fortune and break a home that had not even been created yet. Rubbish. After the dinner, I was about leaving for my penthouse when my father convinced me to stay for the weekend. Daddy was known for his skills in persuasion. And before I knew it, I found myself in my old bedroom. After taking a shower and dressing up, I laid on my bed and stared at the trinkets that hung on the ceiling. My heart melted as I looked at everyone on them. I was given these trinkets on my birthdays since I was five. I never stopped receiving them even after the silent years. Tears gathered in my eyes as the memories started shooting back into my mind. I needed to stop thinking...FAST. But it was already too late. * ***Twenty Years Ago*** "Heyyy...that looks like the shoe my mommy wears." My seat buddy looked at my drawing book. "Why did you dwaaw a shoe Chloé?" Irene smiled at me. "Because I like wearing shoes." I said proudly. "But it's soooo tall." The boy that lives near me came to our seat and took my book to have a look. I hate boys but mommy said I have to marry one when I grow up. Daddy is a boy, maybe I could marry Daddy. "Give me." I pouted at Drake as I tried to snatch back my blue drawing book but his best friend came and took it. "Won't you fall?" He blinked at the paper. "Yes, after using it to hit your big head!" I stuck my tongue out and collected the book. "You're too short to reach my big head—I MEAN...M—My head is not big!" He got angry and before I knew it, he took my favorite pencil and ran. "ANDRÉ GIVE ME BACK!" I was about to chase after him but before I could, Mrs. Lacy came. "Chloé back to your seat. Drake you too. Logan and Wes what are you two doing climbing the Christmas tree?" Everyone's eyes turned to the two bozos as they froze on the tree. "I'm stuck." Wes said. It took about some few minutes for Mrs. Lacy to get both of them down without destroying our Christmas tree. After everywhere got quiet, she went to the door. But before opening it, she smiled. "Everyone, I'd like to introduce a new friend to all of you." The door opened and a confused looking boy made his way through. Everyone said Hi to him and Wes took him to be his new seat buddy but he just remained quiet. Wes and the new boy sat on the seats in front of Irene and I as Wes fired him with questions like he was a criminal being questioned. "Where are you from? What's your name? Are you American? Because I'm not American! I'm from India, what about you? Are you from India?! What's your favorite color? Do you like football because I LOVE football a lot! Are you British? You look British! How many friends do you have? Can I be your friend? If you say yes, I'll give you a billion dollars!!" "Mrs. Lacy, what's a billion dollars?" Asher creased his forehead as he rose up his hand to ask his question. "What's a dollar?" Luca looked at Wes. "Dollar is money dummy brain." The meanest girl in the class answered and flipped her hair. "Tania." Mrs. Lacy scolded her. Good, I don't like Tania. She thinks she's better than me, NO ONE is better than me. There are a lot of people I don't like. And a lot of people don't like me. I don't want them to like me, I needed them to fear and worship me. I wasn't anyone's equal here, but at least I wasn't a meanie like Tania. I wish I could drag her pretty hair and teach her a lesson. "André give me back my pencil!" I hit the table with my tiny palms as I stood up. "What pencil?" He pretended like he didn't take any pencil from me. "Stop it! Give me my pencil, I want it back!" I screamed. Daddy was the one that gave me the pencil before he left for another of his stupid business trips. He knows I don't like being left alone with mommy. "Chloé what is up with you today?!" Mrs. Lacy shouted at me. "But he took my pencil." My voice was already getting cracked. André was never going to give me back that pencil now he knows how much I want it. "Mrs. Lacy I didn't take any pencil. I swear." André stood up and acted in front of everyone. Everyone looked at me as the tears in my eyes began pouring down. It was my favorite pencil and now he took it. He was getting me back for destroying his favorite plane toy his grandpa gave him last month. Why did I destroy it? Because he said my head looks like a balloon. When she checked André and found nothing, I angrily sat down on my seat as I wiped away my tears. I will definitely get him back. In the process of cleaning my tears, I realized that there was still one more person looking at me. The new boy Mrs. Lacy said we should be friends with. He wasn't smiling, but he also wasn't angry. There was no...FEELING on his face. His eyes were blue like the color of my pencil. I liked Blue, Blue was my favorite color. Mister Blue shook his head at me before looking at the teacher. He rose his hand and stood up. "Mrs. Lacy." I was surprised he got her name correctly at the first time. "Can I sit with him?" He pointed at André. Although Drake was sitting with André, he didn't mind switching with Mister Blue eyes. I saw how André smiled at him and offered to give him his entire snack if he agreed to be his friend. Mister Blue just nodded at him then looked back at me. * It was the middle of lunch time and everywhere was quiet as we all had our lunch. "I brought pasta and cupcakes, what did you bring new boy?" I heard André ask him. All the boys cornered at their table as they all ate while trying to have a conversation with Mister Blue. I concentrated back on how I was going to get back my pencil from that meanie André. But then, a scream grabbed my attention. All of our eyes shot at where André sat. "ANDRÉ!" Mrs. Lacy shouted after seeing André kick Mister Blue and pushing him to the floor. The minute his body hit the hard ground, Mister Blue eyes shouted again as he held the leg André kicked. "Why would you do that?! You're going to the naughty corner immediately!" "BUT—" "No buts young man. I'm calling the principal so your parents can know about this. You are in deep trouble young man!" Mrs. Lacy rushed Daniel to the sick bay as his beautiful eyes poured out more tears. Some of my classmates followed them as they continuously said sorry to him. An hour later and André was still at the Big Bad Principal's office, my classmates whispered amongst themselves as to what happened that made him kick Mister Blue. Concern and curiosity kicked into my five year old brain and before you knew it, I asked to go see our hurt classmate. Mrs Lacy surprisingly let me go. Before leaving, I made sure to grab the remaining little piece of my cake with me and hopped out of the class. I sang in the hallway but was quickly stopped by a familiar voice. I turned around as I noticed I was near the Principal's office. I was about to run when the door opened and not just the principal, but the meanie and his parents walked out. "Aha! Look, look at Chloé. She's a good student and probably never gets in trouble, whereas my son never hesitates to show how naughty he can be." Uncle Andrew said. He was really pissed at André. "Andrew.." Aunty Anna placed her hand on his arm to calm him down while giving me a warm smile. "Where are you off to little dove?" She asked me and I looked at the Principal before staring back to André's nice mother. She was the opposite of Mommy. "I..I want to give Mister Blue my cake after André kicked him. Daddy always says that cake warms the heart and makes all your oopsie-daisies go away." I beamed with pride. But my smile fell when my eyes landed on André's angry face. "You are extremely annoying!" "André!" The three adults cautioned. "At least I'm not a meanie!" I defended. "Exactly! She's not a meanie like you." Uncle Andrew turned him around to face him. "What is up with you?" "It's not my fault Dad, I swear it isn't! It's all her fault and her—!" My fault? After that whole scene, I angrily walked to the sick bay. I forgot all my manners and stormed into the place like I owned it. The second I opened the gray door, I saw Mister Blue sitting at the corner near the window. I realized he was in so much pain due to how much he was crying. André is so bad! "Mister Blue.." I said as I walked slowly to where he was. "I brought some cake for you." He turned around, something about his blue eyes being so watery wanted to make me cry. "My Daddy says that cake warms the heart and makes all your oopsie-daisies go away." I spoke with hesitation as he gazed at my every move. "I'll make you one of my minions if you stop crying." "Minion?" "Yeah. My favorite henchman. My Daddy has a lot of Henchmen." "Why not friend like everyone has been telling me?" "I don't have or want friends." I said sharply. "So will you stop crying please? It's a blueberry cheesecake." To my surprise, he smiles and jumps off the chair. His shoe covered feet make a loud THUD when it hit the tiled floor. Wait, I stare at his legs. "Mister Blue, your legs. I thought they were—" "I'm okay." He stomped his left foot on the floor for me to see. "My Mom taught me how to act." "Really?! Is your mom an actress?! Is she in Hollywood??" I stare in awe. WAIT WAIT WAIT. ACT?! "What do you mean act?" Hold on, Oh my gosh he— "I lied." A small smile tugged on his lips. "You...lied?" "I faked it. The kick wasn't that hard. Actually it was hard, but...meh, I've had worse." "Why did André kick you?" A few seconds passes before he looked at me again while searching for something in his pocket. My eyes screamed in amazement at what was in front of me. "Because of you." "My pencil?" I blinked continuously before taking it from him. "Wait first." He took it out of my reach. "I just remembered, what did you call me when you first entered?" "M—Mister Blue?...B..Because you have Blue eyes, like my pencil. I like coming up with funny names." I grinned. He looked at me as if I had gone insane. "Don't call me that. That's not my name." "But your name is probably ugly." I blurted out and he laughed. He wasn't mad. "You don't even know my name." "Yes I don't, but, I want to call you Mister Blue." I paused. "What is your name anyways?" "Why should I tell you?" "I'll tell you mine. My name is Chloé. My Daddy is Carlos Williamson. I'm Daddy's favorite." "Chlo—wiyy." He pronounced my name slowly. He was in deep thought before he finally spoke. "Here's a deal, I'll tell you my name and agree to be your favorite minion under one condition." "Tell me!!" I was already ready to discard Irene as my favorite. "You won't play with André for the rest of kindergarten. I want to be the only one that plays with you." "Only one?" "Yes." "What about my sisters and Daddy?" "I come before them." "Always?" "Always." He blinked. Hmmm. "Okay deal!" "Daniel." My body froze for some reason. "Your name is Daniel? Just Daniel? I knew your name was ugly! I have a surname, it's Williamson. What's yours?" "Snow. Daniel Snow." . . . . . . . . . ❄️L.M.P❄️