Page 49 of Fabricated

Pushing up on my chest, she stares down at me, her hair a curtain around us. “Some of us need this money. Some of us…” she trails off as I pulled down sharply on a lock of her hair, bringing her lips to mine.

“You could always stay with me. You wouldn’t need any money. I have more than I can spend in four lifetimes.”

“And when you get tired of me, what would I do?” she sasses.

Biting her bottom lip, I murmur, “I’d never get tired of you, Rayne, Darling.”

She melts into me, her hands running through my hair. “That’s nice, truly, but I’ve never been one to gamble.”

She pushes off me quickly. Skilled with the avoidance of my arms trying to capture her. She throws my shirt over her body. That is another thing I don’t want to see in the morning. Rayne dressing to leave my room.She plants a kiss on my cheek, and I scowl at her.

“I’ll see you later,” she whispers.

My door shuts and I groan into my pillow because, fuck, today won’t be good.

* * *

RAYNE

I feel like I’m glowing. Like everyone can see the happiness radiating from my eyes, seeping out my pores, staining my cheeks. The night with Branson, this morning, was magical. Like something you'd see in a Disney movie. Although maybe a little darker…

We are all sitting by the pool at a long glass table. Strawberry mimosas, various fruits, and breakfast meats. Fluffy eggs stacked on a platter next to pancakes, muffins, and bagels. Briggs, who believes pacing around us instead of sitting would ease the tension radiating off her. Branson sits next to me, cool and collective. His thumb rubbing circles on the inner thigh of my bare leg.

“As you all know,” Briggs begins, fixing her lemon-yellow suit and running a hand through her black pixie cut hair that now has streaks of purple through it. “We're taking a break after filming today. As you also know, ratings have been low the last four years.” Tucker scoffs and Briggs hits him with her no-bullshit look. He quickly covers it with a cough.

“This year, however, ratings have gone up. Tremendously. So today, I want you to give it your all. Leave the audience gasping and sending hate mail because we left them on such a cliffhanger they cannot breathe.”

Everyone nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. We blow this and we will hear the word everyone in showbiz dreads. Canceled. For them, it would be a blow to their egos, for me, however, it would change my whole life. I need this money desperately so I can build a new life for myself.

“I will not go out with a cancelation on my record, do we understand?” Briggs looks each of us in the eye. For someone so small and colorful, she is actually scary as hell.

She smiles a smile fit for the Joker and claps once, walking to get behind the cameras as we begin eating. Branson leans into me, whispering into my ear, “We can still bail, you know?”

“And have her sell my organs on the black market? No thanks.” He chuckles, warm breath tickling my neck.

After everyone is finished eating, we file into our own rooms. My stylist team awaits me as Rhonda ushers me into the shower. I scrub and exfoliate every inch of my body. Shampooing and conditioning my hair twice. Once I am dry and have pulled on a long button-up shirt, they begin combing and blow-drying my hair.

Afterward, I’m rushed to a massage table. I smile. I could honestly go for a massage… but then they pull out hot wax and white strips of tape. Quickly, realizing I’m not getting a massage, I scowl, climbing up on the table. They rip and extract every single hair, besides the ones on my head and eyebrows, they can find. Leaving my skin hot and on fire. Not to mention I've never had a Brazilian wax. I had no clue they would be doing all that.

I look at Rhonda with distrust as they curl my hair and paint on my face. She just smiles, pinching my cheeks. “It’s something you must get used to.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” I snap, “but again, having hair ripped from my private parts is something I will never get used to.” She pats my shoulder in a sad manner. As if I am being ridiculous.

They wrap a corset around my bust. Embodied in black diamonds. It cuts off above my belly button. The corset is heavy and uncomfortable, and I wiggle as they pull the strings so tight, I imagine the lady behind me has her foot on my spine as she pulls them tighter. My breasts shift up until they were almost spilling out.

Another holds out a tulle skirt for me to step into. It spills around my hips like a waterfall. My necklace is tightened and positioned above my breasts. Long earrings to match the corset hang from my ears, tall black heels that can be used as a weapon are on my feet.

Looking in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. From a girl who wore less than rags turned gothic princess. I smooth my hands through the tulle, admiring my gorgeous outfit. A knock on the door breaks my admiration. Quickly walking over, my hand grips the doorknob as I take a deep breath. My smile falters when I see Tucker. It isn’t that I’m happy to see him, it’s just that I thought it would be Branson.

“Tuck.” I smile.

“Strawberry.” He holds out his arm. Taking it, I follow him.

“Where’s Branson?” I whisper.

Tucker swallows before answering. “He had something to do but he’ll meet us there.”

I nod, my heart sinking at the thought I won’t be walking in with him.Our relationship has grown so much, and I am… in love? Do I love Branson? Can you fall in love so quickly? Yes. That free-falling into the unknown I constantly felt… It was love.I stop short at the thought. Shaking my head, I clear my mind.

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