Chapter5: The Facade
1466 Words
The smell of bacon hit before I opened my eyes.
For a second, I just lay there — still, listening.
The faint hum of the heater. The distant sound of birds outside tall glass windows.
Everything felt too soft. Too quiet. Too perfect.
Right.
Bella Ipkiss’s life.
I pushed myself up slowly, my hair spilling around my shoulders — golden, glossy, unreal.
Sunlight flooded the room, painting everything in gold.
It almost looked holy.
Almost.
The mirror on the dresser caught me from across the room.
Her reflection — my reflection — smiled back, perfect even when it wasn’t trying.
I still wasn’t used to it.
Downstairs smelled like money and maple syrup.
The dining table was ridiculous — stacks of pancakes, strawberries, orange juice that probably cost more than my rent, everything arranged like an ad for “rich family mornings.”
Mr. Ipkiss sat at the head, scrolling through his phone.
He didn’t look up.
Not until I reached for the chair.
“Sit,” he said. Calm. Cold. Like a man giving an order to a soldier, not his daughter.
I sat. Tried to move like Bella would — slow, confident, careless.
He finally looked up, expression carved in stone.
“I got a call from Mr. Thorn this morning.”
My fork froze mid-air.
“He said you apologized.” His tone didn’t change. “Good. The wedding will hold next month. See that you don’t disgrace us again.”
He stood, grabbed his car keys, and walked out.
No goodbye. No glance back. Just gone.
The silence that followed was so sharp, it almost hummed.
Mrs. Ipkiss didn’t look up right away. She sipped her coffee, smiled faintly.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, voice airy, far away. “I’m so happy for you. I can’t wait to meet my grandchildren.”
I blinked.
Grandchildren.
“Whatever you need for the wedding, just tell me,” she continued, adjusting her pearls like she was in a photoshoot. “We’ll make it perfect.”
She brushed a crumb off my sleeve, soft and absent, then disappeared down the hall — her heels clicking until they faded into silence.
The clock ticked.
Tick.
Tick.
Wedding.
Grandchildren.
Next month.
I sat there with a fork in my hand, trying to swallow air.
What the hell?
By the time I reached Haystack, I’d practiced my smile twice in the car mirror.
Don’t act weird. Don’t mess up. Just breathe.
The driver opened the door, and the world hit me like a flashbulb — laughter, perfume, sunlight bouncing off shiny cars.
Haystack High looked less like a school and more like a movie set.
“Bella!”
Bianca’s voice snapped through the noise.
She waved from the courtyard, her curls bouncing, Zoey and Nalani flanking her like backup dancers. Their matching skirts, glossy lips, and glittering nails screamed main character energy.
I forced my lips into Bella’s signature smirk. “Hey.”
“Belle baby!” Bianca squealed, looping her arm through mine. “You look human again! Yesterday you were pale like a ghost. Are you sure you’re okay now?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Just tired.”
Zoey gasped dramatically. “Please tell me it’s not wedding stress. Our little Bella — future Mrs. Draven Thorn! Still can’t believe it.”
“Drabelle forever,” Nalani sang, striking a pose. “You two are literally couple royalty.”
I laughed softly, though my stomach twisted. “Right. Royalty.”
Bianca leaned in, voice dropping. “You’re really okay, though? The wedding? After… Saturday night?”
My pulse stuttered.
“I’m fine,” I said too quickly. “Everything’s fine now.”
They exchanged looks, then shrugged it off — rich girl problems, nothing new.
Within seconds, Zoey was back to talking about her weekend — the beach, the brunch, the boy with the yacht.
Nalani teased her for being boring, Bianca rolled her eyes, and I laughed when they did, keeping time with their rhythm.
It was strange how easy it was to fake it.
Like the world had already written Bella’s script, and all I had to do was play my part.
The first lecture passed in a blur of perfume, whispers, and the occasional giggle.
I took Bella’s usual seat by the window — perfect lighting, perfect view.
Outside, the campus gleamed under the sun. Inside, my reflection hovered faintly in the glass.
Golden hair. Pale skin.
A stranger’s beauty staring back.
The bell finally rang. Bianca leaned over and tugged my sleeve.
“Come on, lunch,” she said, grinning. “Let’s go before Nalani eats the cafeteria.”
I smiled faintly, gathering Bella’s designer bag.
If only pretending felt as easy as it looked.
The cafeteria smelled like fries, perfume, and too much lip gloss.
Music from someone’s phone pulsed under the noise — a pop song about love and money, exactly the kind of thing Bella’s world would worship.
I followed the girls, tray in hand, pretending I belonged there.
They took their usual spot — the center table, of course.
Everyone else orbited around it, watching, whispering.
The It girls of Haystack High — and somehow, I was sitting with them.
Bianca dropped into her chair with a sigh that could’ve been dramatic enough for television.
“Can we talk about Professor Grey? That man hates happiness. Who gives assignments on a Monday morning?”
Zoey groaned. “Girl, you didn’t even open your notebook. Don’t act like you were planning to do it.”
Nalani giggled, stealing a fry from Zoey’s tray. “Can we not talk about school? My brain still hurts from Saturday night.”
Bianca raised a brow. “My gosh, what did you do this time?”
Nalani grinned like she’d been waiting for someone to ask.
Her eyes lit up. “Zara's party! It was crazy. I finally had my first threesome guys. It was a huge mess. Best night of my life.”
Zoey nearly choked on her soda. “Threesome?? Wait, Zara’s party? You actually went?”
“Of course I went.” Nalani leaned back, twirling her straw. “And you missed out, babes. That party was insane. We’re all going next time. No excuses.”
Zoey gasped, clutching her drink. “Ew, Nalani! I called you that night because I was bored at Zax’s. That man is a corpse.”
She groaned, kicking her chair back. “I’m dumping him. Today. Like, officially. I can’t keep dating a wall.”
Bianca laughed so hard she almost snorted. “Stay single, honey. Relationships are cute until they start breathing near you.”
Their laughter filled the space — easy, loud, and warm in a way I wasn’t used to.
Hope Turner never sat at tables like this. Hope Turner was invisible.
I forced a smile, playing my part.
Bianca leaned closer, eyes glittering. “So, Bella baby… Stefan still bothering you?”
Nalani gasped. “Oh yes! I was gonna ask that. Spill it, babe.”
My stomach tightened.
Stefan?
Who the hell is Stefan?
I smiled too quickly. “Uh — everything’s fine. It’s all Draven now.”
Silence fell, sharp as glass.
Zoey blinked. “All Draven?”
Bianca tilted her head. “Since when are you that serious?”
I laughed, a little too loudly. “I’m just saying, he’s… the one.”
They exchanged looks, shrugged, then drifted right back into their gossip — like nothing happened.
Thank God.
I picked at my salad, trying to breathe again.
The cafeteria buzzed around me — laughter, trays clattering, someone screaming about a missed quiz.
And that’s when I saw her.
Across the room.
A small table near the wall, next to the vending machine.
My fork slipped from my hand.
Brown hoodie. Faded jeans. Hair tied the way I used to.
A girl sat there, eating fries, talking to a boy with a calm smile that made my heart seize.
No.
No, no, no.
It's not possible.
That face. That smile. That was me.
Hope Turner.
Every sound vanished. The world went muffled, like someone pressed pause on reality.
Even the light felt different — too bright, too cruel.
Ethan Reed leaned closer to her, said something, and she laughed.
That laugh. My laugh.
My breath hitched so hard it hurt.
What the hell was I looking at?
“Bella?”
Bianca’s voice sliced through the fog. “You okay?”
I blinked, dragging my eyes away. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
She studied me for a moment, shrugged, then went back to her fries.
I turned again.
The girl — me — was still there. Still laughing. Still alive.
My throat went dry.
If I’m Bella…
then who the hell is she?
- Writer
