I Became Her

Chapter 23 -The Pretension-

My first instinct is to turn around as fast as I can and run. I don’t even care where; I just feel the need to get away.

What was I thinking when I agreed to come? It’s a high society event and they are the highest society here, so of course, they would be attending. This, here, is my reality check that I am still just as naïve as I used to be. Proves that tigers can’t change their stripes, but I will shave my fur off, if necessary, because I want to survive long enough to introduce some of my justice to them.

I am already halfway turned away from them when Talia grabs my arm and starts dragging me towards them. I stumble after her and then panic hits. I pull my arm from her grip and stand like a stone statue with no intention of moving.

“I can’t,” I say under my breath.

She steps in front of me and places her hands on my bare shoulders. “Lex, I know. I know what happened and I know that he is here tonight.” My eyes filled with fear, I stare at her while listening. “I am not one of you, but I am not stupid either. I know what Kane and Shai are doing. I know they save what is left to save and then try to haul some will to live back into these girls.” She places her crooked index finger under my chin. “He won’t recognize you. I promise.”

I try to derive some of her confidence to pull this off. Yet at the back of my head there is still the question, why? Why bring me here? Why is she putting me in this position?

“There is a lot, you don’t know yet. But please, I beg you, come inside and I will explain everything later,” her eyes begging even more than her words and I can’t resist but comply. I nod slowly and we start to walk up the stairs.

When I finally dare to look up, then there is no Tyler in sight. Just one older gentleman who offers his hand to Talia for the last few steps, and who I assume is his son, Isaac.

The older gentleman breathes old Hollywood glamour with his three-piece suit, scarf and a bowtie. Very fashionable and his manners accompany that style perfectly. And then there is Isaac. He doesn’t have a bad taste either, but his is totally different. He is wearing a mismatched suit with an open collar shirt that actually works well with his overweight frame.

And then, he smiles at me. If I wasn’t this damaged, I would melt right here. His smile is kind and seductive all at the same time with eyes that make you feel appreciated. Either he is a very good actor, or he is genuinely a nice person. We will see.

“You must be Lex and you look stunning I must say,” he purrs before kissing the back of my hand. Even his touch feels kind and it makes me nervous. I should be alerted when near men, but there is something about him.

“And you must be Isaac. Nice to meet you,” I say trying to be as politically correct as possible not to give away my mixed feelings.

“Shall we?” He gestures towards the entrance, and I walk after Talia, who is already giggling while walking with Isaiah. After a few steps, I feel his hand on the small of my back and now the discomfort hit me like a train. I speed up to put some distance between us, but it has little effect because he is still right behind me. I need to be above this. I need to remain calm. It’s nothing. I repeat these as mantras until we reach our table.

I have Isaac sitting on the right and Talia on my left. I can do this. Just smile and be polite. Another round of mantras I keep repeating.

Now, when we are seated, I finally take a look around and the room is filled with people wearing clothes more expensive than most people make in a month. They are all chitchatting and fake laughing with faces that are unable to give any expressions from all the hyaluronic and Botox. Here, getting old is like being evicted, so they seem to be avoiding it with all the tools they have access to. And if they don’t go the lengths to preserve their youth, then they will be replaced with women like Talia. Easy as the ABC.

I scan the room to locate Tyler, but I don’t have success on my side this time. No sight of him and not knowing is bugging me. I would feel safer if I could keep my eye on him.

“His wife is giving a speech, so they’ll be joining us after that,” Talia said. She must’ve noticed me scanning the room nervously. “Pay attention to Isaac.” The last part is more like scold.

And she is right to scold me. I hate that, but she has a point. I am here for him, and I have to make sure he is not going to fire me before the event is over.

I turn to look at him and now I feel a little abandoned. He is having a staring contest with this other guest from two tables over. Their smiles and little waves are telling a whole another story here. I press my lips into a thin line to keep the laugh in and keep staring at their sweet interaction. It’s heartwarming to see how he doesn’t even notice me looking because they have eyes only for each other.

“Friend of yours?” I ask when they finally break their connection.

He gives me a sharp look and I can see all the cogs and springs work overtime in his head while he is looking for a good answer. And when he doesn’t find one, he just nods.

Well, he doesn’t want to talk about it, and I am not going to push him. I am an escort for a day, not a psychiatrist for a day.

The fundraiser is to save some type of birds who live in Thailand and people eat their nests or something like that. Don’t eat their nests if you want to save them would be my first suggestion, but what do I know? Anyway, I just sit there quietly with my perfect make-up and pretend to be one of them when I actually want to kick the door open and get away from the pretentious masquerade.

But these feelings were wiped away when Tyler walked this young woman to the microphone and then stood a few feet back when she started talking. I am not able to listen what she is saying if she is saying anything at all. I can’t look at him either, but knowing he is there, in the same room as I am, is horrifying. He might not see me, might not even recognize me, but the fact that we are breathing the same air once again, is making me want to stop breathing all together.

This sick individual is living his best life while so many can’t because of him. This injustice is feeding my hunger to make him pay, make him suffer.

“Enjoying the speech?” Isaac’s voice interrupts my line of thoughts and I realize I have been staring at the woman on the stage because I can’t force myself to look at him.

“Yes, very much. You?” I complement my politeness with a sweet smile.

“Are you kidding? Are you even listening to her?” He asks with a skeptical expression and, for the first time, I listen to what she is saying. And to be honest, it is hard, no, impossible to understand what she is talking about because her voice is very quiet and shaky. The only times I can hear her is when she is letting out another heavy breath like she is struggling with words just as much as we are struggling to hear her.

“What is wrong with her?” I ask Isaac. Why are they even having her up there, on the stage when she is in no condition to give a speech?

“This is Julia. She’s been like this for years now, but since her daddy is Anton Vlasov, they put her up there every year.” He shrugs his shoulders and continues to chew on the bread he has dismantled on his plate.

“For years? She wasn’t like that before?”

“Not that bad. She was awkward, I guess, but that is just painful to watch and listen.” And he is right. If I look around the room, most people are not listening, and the ones that are, keep looking at her with pity in their eyes.

Even I, feel sorry for her. It seems like she doesn’t want to be there, and no one wants her to be there. Why torture her?

“Who is behind her?” In theory I know who he is, but why is he there?

“Her fiancé.”