twisted » á. morata & p. dybala

cuatro // problematic

"Come on, let's go!" I yelled, my voice filling the house. I waited for Valerie by the front door since I was ready and she wasn't. We had been summoned to the office because we both had some work to do.

"I need to look presentable. Fashion takes time and effort," she contorted at me and we walked out of the front door side by side.

I scoffed loudly, making sure it sounded like I completely intended to. "It's impossible to make you look presentable. Now come on, walk faster."

We quickly got into our car and the driver drove us to the office. I got into the elevator immediately and pressed the button for the 14th floor.

"Is he here yet?" I asked Jen, the receptionist, as soon as I got out at the 14th floor. 

"In your father's office," she said while talking on the phone with someone else.

"Alright, thanks," I thanked her briefly and speed-walked to my father's office and as soon as I got there, a tall and slender blonde-haired man was sitting on the chair across my father in his desk. "Mr. Renard? Je m'appelle Isabella Accardi. Enchanté," I held out a hand for him to shake and we both sat down next to each other across from my father.

"Oh, are you my translator?" He asked politely in French.

"Oui."

"Okay, let's talk business," my father clasped his hands together and started talking about business plans, none of them I was ever interested in. An hour later, we were finished. We bid our goodbyes to each other and I marched myself out of the office. Just when I was about to reach the elevators, a tall and slender woman approached me. She was blonde, but not a natural blonde. Her nose was pointed,  her lips plump, her eyes strikingly light brown, and her cheekbones so high they could touch the ceilings.

"Isabella! Ah, I wasn't expecting to see you here. Is there a foreigner around?" She asked in various tones, it was clear that she didn't like my presence there, but she pretended to be polite but at the same time wanted me to know that she was only pretending. 

"Well, it is my father's office, and yes, there is a foreigner. Now go away, Anya," I said bitterly. Unlike her, I was never one for acts.

"It's not like I want to be here long," she purred like the f-ing devil cat lucifer, and turned back on her heels so quickly her hair went flying almost to my face. "Oh, did you know that we're having a dinner party this weekend?" She suddenly turned back towards me, to my dismay.

I was actually taken aback by her question because I didn't know anything about a dinner party, though I tried to act casual. "Yes, of course," I lied.

"You can invite a plus one. Your best friend, maybe? Since you don't have a boyfriend," she laughed hysterically and dramatically. I wanted to hit her in the fake face. 

I was angered by her statement, so I blurted out without thinking twice. "Yes, I do," I spat out.

"Oh, good for you then. Don't forget to invite whoever that is over," she waved at me. "Toodles," she smiled brightly and walked away once again.

"Whatever," I muttered under my breath and walked away too, but I heard her call my name once again. Why can't this bitch just leave me alone? I thought.

"Oh, Isabella?" She called out in a high pitched voice and a very evil smile painted her face.

"What?" I snapped back.

"I'm taking the Head PR position, since you didn't want it," her evil smile curved to be even wider.

I felt a rush of panic and anger mixing and boiling inside me. What? That position was for me. I couldn't let her take it just like that.

"Oh, I actually do. I already thought about it and I actually want it," I said with my eyebrows raised, and it was my turn to form an evil smile.

"No, you can't. I aimed for that position first," her expression changed drastically. Almost... fearful.

"Papa gave it to me first," I stepped closer towards her to try and look intimidating.

"But you didn't want it, so you can't have it now," her tone was serious and threatening. 

"Watch me," I hissed and turned my heels around and never looked back.

I got into the elevator and went down to the lobby, and it felt like the elevator was going in the slowest motion possible. During the car ride back home, my head hurt really bad. I didn't know what to do. Dinner party, boyfriend, job position, those words kept flying around in my head. I felt so stupid and reckless for challenging Anya like that. I pulled out my orange pill container and downed another white pill. I needed that. I earned that pill after my encounter with Anya.

I went home alone since Valerie was still working at the office. Unlike me, she had a much more important job than just being a translator, a job that our father could actually be proud of.

That night I was laying down on my bed, and I kept thinking and thinking, until finally reaching a solution. I decided to call Paulo.

He picked up after a few rings. "Ciao, Bella."

"Don't call me that," I spat, not intending to.

"Okay, okay, Isabella. What is it?" He asked.

"So... I need your help. Big time."

"Anytime, Isabella. Just ask," he offered politely, making me blush a little. Only a little.

"There's a family dinner party this weekend. My family's dinner party. The thing is, I'm supposed to come with a plus one, and I accidentally said to my bitchy evil stepsister that I have a boyfriend, when the truth is, I don't," I didn't have to wait long for a reply.

"Let me guess, you need me to be your pretend boyfriend," he said, and I blushed out of embarrassment because he guessed it so easily. Thank God he couldn't see me.

"Something like that," I croaked out.

"No problem. Just text me the details and I'll pick you up this weekend," he said nonchalantly, leaving me so shocked I sat down on the bed.

"Wait, are you for real?" I asked, still not believing.

"Don't sound so surprised," he chuckled, sending shivers down my spine for some reason.

"Do you actually want to?" My lips twitched into a big grin.

"I would love to," he said, and my jaws hurt from being forced into an even wider grin.

"Gracias, Paulo," I muttered.

"You're very welcome."