CHAPTER EIGHT
As the door opened and the taxi she rode over, drove away, Rhainne went past her mother, and went straight to the staircase, her fist clenched against the railing as she was called from behind.
“Rhainne—”
She whipped her head, “You know about this, don’t you?”
Her mother pursed her lips, and with this, Rhainne knew in an instant that she got her suspicion right. Biting her lips in furiousness, her sight clogged with tears which she didn’t dare to fall hard again, she screamed, “Who else could’ve given my personal information to that guy, other than you?! I thought—”
“I know you wanted to find your father, so now I’m giving you that chance. I also know that you know that the real reason to why I transferred you to another school, is because he almost find you in our previous address. And I’m hiding you from him.”
Rhainne just can’t believe her Mama’s selfish words, even with that teary eyes of hers.
“If you wanted badly to let me see him, then let him just come and face me so that I could see him with my two eyes! Even once in my life, I never dreamt of being set-upped in this dirty damn showbiz life! I just wanted to live peacefully and normally with you, Ma!,” she shouted, shaking badly in fury.
“Then,” her mother said, a dramatic hand on her chest, “Have you even come to think of me? I don’t want to meet him again,” she inched closer to Rhainne and grabbed hold of her hands, “I don’t want you away from me. But if you wanted badly to know your father—”
“ ‘Not want me away from you?,” Rhainne repeated, letting out a soft and sad chuckle, instinctively letting her hand off from her Mama’s grip, “But you did wanted me dead because of your pathetic obsession with that guy. And you call it love throughout these years? Is that even love, Ma?”
With pain and fury piercing wildly deep down her chest, Rhainne climbed up the stairs, and into her room, gently closing its door in a devastated manner, as she leaned her back against it, trying hard to prevent her stupid tears from coming out.
But of course, it just went worse.
The next thing she knew, she was already crying softly with her head bowed, her hair draping around her face like curtains, her knees half-sprawling down the floor.
In his own condo, just right after arriving from his visit in his father’s company, Matt watched the news in the TV, and as soon as he was informed of Rhainne’s sudden terrible involvement in showbiz, he tried calling her for more than a dozen times, but she didn’t pick up.
“She must be really having a hard time,” he murmured to himself as he paced back and forth in his living room endlessly, full of worry for his bestfriend, “…I just hope that history won’t repeat itself. It’ll be really hard for her.”
About 10 minutes of selfless worry and anxiousness, and hopeless dials to Rhainne’s mobile #, his doorbell rang. He checked his phone’s home screen’s digital clock, 11:30 PM. At this very late hour, who could be this visitor?
He walked towards the door and checked the CCTV camera, frowning with shock as he saw the person peeping through it. Joanne Aznar? In some of her fancy disguises again?
With a sigh, he let in the beautiful artist in his living room, offered her a seat, and served her a glass of orange juice, plus a slice of cake on his living room’s welcoming table, the unwatched TV, still on.
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The Girl Who Never Acts Like One
RomanceRhainne Vergara is a girl who never acts like one. She doesn't wear dresses and always tends to act boyishly. She even have a boy's voice (but that obviously still didn't get rid of the fact that she is pretty, hidden however of her personality). An...
