Try Saying That Ten Times Fast
980 Words
Celeste
My head throbbed. I lay on the fancy "family heirloom" bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the sun. It was a beautiful room, but the silk sheets didn't make the bank balance look any better.
Bills. They were everywhere. Mom’s hospital costs, tuition, the mortgage. Being the "perfect" sister and daughter was an expensive full-time job. I was the rock, the foundation, but even rocks erode.
My phone buzzed against my leg. I grabbed it, ready to delete a spam text, but it was an unknown number. A photo popped up: a stunning, shimmery green dress.
*“This would look great for the Briggs festival. 😉”*
Then another ping.
*“This is Reid btw.”*
My jaw tightened so hard it ached. *The nerve of this guy.* He was already acting like I was his property. I tossed the phone onto the bed like it was a grenade.
I got up, forced myself into my black yoga set, and doused myself in lavender and bergamot. It was my "I have my life together" perfume. I grabbed my Chanel sunglasses and headed out.
First, I paused by Mom’s door. She looked peaceful, at least. Then I checked on Sienna. She was hunched over her desk, grounded and looking miserable. I kissed her strawberry-scented hair. "Be good, bug," I whispered. I hated leaving her like this, but I had to keep the wheels turning.
As I tiptoed down the grand, winding staircase, hoping to slip out unnoticed, a clinking sound echoed from the kitchen. My shoulders slumped. *Not now.*
My dad, was rummaging through the pantry, a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey on the counter. He looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "Leaving already, princess?" he slurred, a sarcastic edge to his voice. "Don't forget us little people when you're off living your high-society life." He waved a crumpled betting slip at me. "Just need a few more dollars, Celeste. I've got a tip, a *sure thing* this time."
I forced a smile, my stomach twisting. "I'm late, Dad. And I don't have anything." I knew arguing was pointless. He'd find a way to drain me if I stayed. I just needed to escape.
"Always too busy for your old man," he grumbled, turning back to the pantry. "Some daughter you are."
I bit back a sharp retort, my jaw aching. I hopped into my Audi. It was economical, sensible, and perfect for blending in. Just like me.
At the Pilates studio, the air smelled like eucalyptus. Rose, my best friend, watched me stretch with concern.
"You're really going to do it?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "With *him*? Celeste, Axel Reid is bad news. Look at what he did to Connor."
My stomach flipped. "I know," I said, a little too sharply. "But I don't have a choice, Rose."
"There's always a choice," she pushed.
*Not for me,* I thought. She didn't know about the medical bills or the constant fear of us ending up in Bit Ova. I couldn't tell her; I needed to look like I had it handled. "I loved Connor, but he's gone. Sienna needs this. I need this."
My phone started vibrating again. A different number this time. I walked into the hallway to answer, annoyed.
"Celeste Harlow? This is Harrison Reid. Axel’s manager. Just syncing up our schedules."
"Syncing what?" I snapped. "I haven't even said yes yet!"
"Is that going to be a problem?" he asked, his voice completely flat.
"Yes! You can't just assume—"
"Understood. I'll adjust accordingly. Good day."
*Click.* He hung up on me. The arrogance of that family was staggering.
I spent the rest of the day angry. By the time I dressed in a cute yellow outfit and headed to the cafe for my matcha fix, I was ready to explode.
Then I saw him.
Axel was sitting on the patio, laughing with his friends. He looked impossibly relaxed. His black shirt, open at the collar, showed off the intricate tattoos that covered his chest and neck, and his dark, curly hair gleamed in the sun. He looked like a man without a single bill to his name. (Just like the guy in the picture, all inked up and intense.)
*How dare he?*
My blood boiled. I marched over, ready to give him a piece of my mind, my matcha cup gripped tight.
He looked up, and those storm-grey eyes locked onto me. A slow, cocky smile spread across his face. "Celeste Harlow, come to say hi?"
I froze. My brain short-circuited. I was really about to throw a drink on an Alpha in public? I forced a tight, fake smile. "Just getting a drink."
He stood up, tall and imposing. "Let me escort you to your car."
He walked beside me, his presence heavy and smelling of ash wood and something wild. It made my skin prickle. "Want another one of those?" he asked, pointing to my half-finished cup.
"White chocolate matcha," I said, staring him down. "And a brownie. For fun."
He bought them without missing a beat. When we got to my car, he opened the door for me. It was chivalrous, but I knew it was just him asserting dominance.
"Have you thought about my offer?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
"Still considering it," I lied.
He laughed, a deep sound that vibrated in his chest. "Okay, Hollywood." He pushed off the car, a low, knowing chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Don't take too long. Time's ticking."
He walked away, back to his friends. *Hollywood?* I hated him.
As I sat in the car, my phone buzzed one last time. A notification from the hospital: *Overdue payment alert.*
The anger drained out of me, replaced by that cold, familiar dread. I looked at the screen, then at Axel’s receding back.
*f**k my life.*
- Writer
