twisted » á. morata & p. dybala

cinco // dinner party

I looked at myself one last time in the mirror. I checked everything from the tip of my hair to my toes. Everything looked good. So far.

I was ready to go out the door, and when I opened it, Paulo was running towards me.

"Oh hey, you're just in time. Let's go," I beckoned him to go back to his car.

"Hi. You look very beautiful," he said with a smile, making my cheeks heat up really nicely.

"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself," I replied, tucking my hair behind my ear. I always do that whenever I'm nervous.

Valerie cleared her throat from behind me, erasing the racing thoughts about Paulo in my head, and also startling me. "Oh Paulo, this is my sister, Valerie," I stepped aside to let Paulo and Valerie stand facing each other.

"Hello," Paulo smiled his sweet smile and held out a hand to Valerie.

"Hi," she replied shyly, along with burning cheeks. I could've sworn it was his eyes. They could kill people inside out.

"You can sit in the back," he offered to her.

"Thanks," she croaked out in reply. She was surely embarrassing me, but I let it off because I knew how nervous she was around Paulo.

Paulo ran towards his black car and opened the door for me, then for Valerie. He started driving away from our house and towards the quiet city of Turin at night. Despite the quiet, the lights shone brightly upon us, decorating the streets.

Paulo had been quiet the whole drive, until he finally spoke up. "So, what's your family like?"

"Extremely problematic," Valerie crowed from the back, a scowl forming on her face upon the topic of our family.

"Extremely bitchy," I added, not failing to scowl myself.

"Kind of guessed that already. Why don't you two live with your parents?" He asked again, eyeing me, then fixing his gaze on the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Valerie as well.

"No way. No, thank you. We don't want to be the next Cinderellas," I shook my head, my gaze fixed upon the horizon.

"But isn't being a Cinderella nice? With the happy ending and all?" He asked again, looking at me, but I didn't dare to look at him. Looking into his eyes was something I still wasn't used to.

"But there is no happy ending for us. Not for me anyways," I looked out to the streets, to the people walking by and to the stores on the sides of the streets.

"I'm sorry," Paulo said sympathetically, unaware of the tears forming in my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too."

***

Despite the lack of people and the huge size of the house, it was loud. Champagne glasses clinking as they touched each other for toasts, people laughing and chattering, they were the sounds I dreaded the most.

The exterior of the house was astonishing. The house was grand like a small castle, with the colour gold decorating most parts. It sure did make us feel small. The interior of the house was as astonishing as the exterior. Marble tiles and golden furnitures decorated every inch of the many rooms, and there was a large, round table right when we walked in through the front door. On top of it sat a large marble vase with white lilies inside.

When I walked in with Paulo and Valerie, Anya's face grew stiff, even though I'm sure she tried her best to hide it. I marvelled at her confused expression.

"Anya, this is my boyfriend, Paulo," I emphasized the 'boyfriend' part to make it clear for her.

She lifted her chin up high and cleared her throat. "Hello, Paulo. I'm Anastasia, Isabella and Valerie's sister," she smiled her trademark devilish smile.

"No, you're not," Valerie and I spat simultaneously. I grabbed Paulo by the upper arm and dragged him away before he even had the chance to introduce himself to Anya.

"What was that about?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"That was the bitchy stepsister," I grabbed a glass of champagne from the waiter and chugged it down.

"Whoa, slow down," Paulo warned me, but his warning meant nothing to me.

I put the empty glass back onto the waiter's pan. "Whatever," I muttered under my breath. He gave me a disapproving look but didn't dare say anything more.

We all finally sat down on the long dinner table made out of marble, and I hadn't even greeted my father yet. He strayed away from another guest, which was my Aunt Nyssa from his side of the family, and he walked towards one end of the table to give a welcome speech. He thanked everyone for being there and blessed our foods, and beckoned us to start the feast. During the speech, I noticed that he glanced at Paulo like he didn't even care.

After we finished the feast, which consisted of various homemade dishes that I enjoyed very much, my father took steps towards where Paulo and I were sat down, and he started talking to us. "Isabella, I didn't know that you were friends with the Juventus wonder kid. I never thought football was your entertainment of choice," he held out a hand for Paulo to shake, and Paulo stood up respectfully. "I'm Mattia Accardi, Isabella's father."

I stood up too, not wanting to seem too rude, not that it mattered. Paulo shook his hand and gave him a polite smile. "Paulo Dybala, sir."

"He's my boyfriend," I said bitterly to my father.

"Oh," was all that came out of his mouth for a while. "You never told me you had a boyfriend already."

"Why should I tell you?"

Paulo darted his eyes back and forth between my father and I.

"Anyway, I meant to tell you that we're holding a board meeting tomorrow to determine who gets the job," my father said as a matter of fact.

"The job?" I suddenly lost that side of myself. The side who was always bitchy, confident, and strong. It was replaced by a sheepish and fearful side instead.

"Yes, the job," Anya suddenly came out of nowhere like the lucifer that she is and put her arm around my dad's shoulders.

Her mother, my stepmother, also came and my dad instantly lurked his arm around her waist. I felt a pang of jealousy and rage inside me. That should be mama you're holding like that, I thought, but I didn't dare say that aloud.

Then, my skin prickled as I felt an arm wrap around my waist. Paulo's. His touch most definitely sent shivers down my spine, and I think he noticed that.

"I hope you make a wise decision tomorrow, Mattia," my stepmother said to my father, her voice indifferent to her daughter's.

"I hope so too," my father replied with a sigh that followed.

There was an uneasy feeling inside me and I felt really sick. What if Anya gets the job instead? The thought kept pounding in my head. I told Paulo that I felt sick, and he agreed to drive me back home, to get me away from that hellhole that I called my father's mansion. Valerie also came home with us, claiming that she also felt sick.

As soon as I got home, I let my body touch my bed, and as soon as it did, I drifted into heavy sleep, not knowing what I would face the next day.