Pathetic and weak
"That's what I'm talking about" Monica gloated and so did her friends. They took their time snickering and looking at Myra like she was nothing but dirt.
Monica walked forward and grabbed unto Myra's hands. "It's simple. I just want you to attend my party. You're in the favour of Neteham, if he finds out we're good friends, he'll see me in good lights"
Good friends? Myra wanted to laugh to this. They had been enemies since she could remember so being described as good friends was a million times far-fetched. Besides what kind of friend threatens her friend?.
"What kind of Mate needs to fight to be cherished by her Mate?" Myra asked back in a mocking tone. Monica's situation truly made her despise the Mate bond. Isn't it supposed to be something so loving and strong? yet it is so disgusting and pathetically weak. He could look her in the eyes and bed someone else. If this was how it truly was then she didn't want a mate. Not that she could even have one in the first place.
SMACK—
A loud slap echoed across the five hundred seater room. Everyone eyes flew open in shock while Myra's head was twisted to the side. Her lips broke and blood began to sip out. Monica had used her whole strength, Myra's cheek was swollen in less than a second.
"Watch your tongue or I would cut it myself" The girl warned with a darkened expression. If it weren't for her image and for the sake of not annoying her Lecherous mate, she would kill this puny human here and now and cease stooping this low to scheme against her. The mere sight of the girl's beautiful face drove her but she would have to be more discreet about her hatred.
"I don't want to hurt you so don't make me. I just want us to be friends okay?" Monica swallowed her anger and summoned a gentle smile. She moved to hold Myra's hand once again but Myra avoided her touch.
Her cheek stung but her heart stung more. She clenched her fist and wished she could return that slap but deep down she knew she couldn't. She was being humiliated like this and she could ever do is hold it in and comfort herself. How pathetic and weak she felt.
"See, we could be on good terms. All you have to do is to come to my party, also be there with me anytime I want and don't annoy me. Until then..." Myra watched her whip out her phone and dialed a set of numbers. She put the phone on speaker and everyone could hear the call get connected.
"Hello Mr Alberto ." Her rhythmic voice called out.
"Ahh Miss Monica What a pleasant surprise. How are you?" An enthusiastic voice replied through the receiver. Respect and caution laced in his french like tone. One could understand Monica had a greater status than this man for him to respect her that much.
Monica smiled and plopped herself on the nearest table. "I'm good. Thanks for asking Mr Alberto"
"Hehe to what purpose do I have this honour. Miss Monica? Have you called to discuss about our last discussion?"
"No Mr Alberto but be rest assured I have said words with my father. He's thinking about it, a little more push from me and he would concede, you don't have to worry. This time I have called for a favour." She replied effortlessly. What a real pro she was with bending words. With just a few simple words, she had hinted him that his project all depended on her words. Even if she asked for his limb, the man would be conflicted into doing it except he didn't need the project anymore.
"Sure sure. Miss Monica can tell me what you need, I'll be sure to do it"
"I'll hold your words for it Mr Alberto. I heard your company is holding an audition today for the Fashion Nova Ambassador. Would it be okay if I make some moderations?" What was the point of asking? This was probably just letting go of the reins to hold it tighter.
"Most definitely! Anything you say goes Miss Monica"
"Okay then. I have a friend I want to recommend for the post. She's the perfect fit for your ambassador. With her there would be no need to carry on with the audition so can you just cancel it?"
"Cancel it?" The man asked surprised. His company had spent months planning this audition yet she wanted him to cancel it just like that. Even if her father was an important asset to him he still was reluctant to throw away his hard work for her sake.
"Yes of course." Monica agreed with a matter of fact tone "I've told her already and we would do it, it's just she's in a bit of a hassle now and can't do it right now but I promise to bring her when the time is right, So first can you cancel the audition?"
The line went silent. It was as if one could hear him sulk on the other side of the call. Deep in Myra's heart she prayed the man would suddenly grow some liver and refuse Monica's request. That was her only way to escape this bulbous snare about to swallow her up now.
A forced chuckle rang out few seconds later "Sure why not? It's just some stupid audition, I'm sure the person Miss Monica has found would be the best for the post. I'll go inform the broadcast department to cancel the audition" Myra felt her heart sink. It was over!.
A proud gloating smile appeared on Monica lips. "Fine then. I expect to hear the news. On till then, my regards to the family and I'm sure you'll get a call from my father soon."
"Hahaha no problem Miss Monica. It's a pleasure speaking to you and thanks in advance for the suggestion and everything" Every ounce of regret that lingered before now disappeared without a trace after hearing her say he would get a call from her father. What was a stupid modelling role compared to his million dollar project.
Monica said a few words then cut the call. That arrogant smile still on her face, she turned and looked at Myra, her eyes clearly asking 'do you still dare defy me?'
"You see, I have the situation under control. Now aren't I a good friend?"
Myra looked at her and gritted her teeth. She was boiling in anger and wished nothing more than trample on Monica and her gloating face. If only she was like one of them, she would long has taught this b*tch a solid lesson.
"five pm tomorrow evening, don't keep me waiting" Monica said then walked away with her gang of buttered face minions.
Myra was left standing there in front of a class like a sorry loser. She indeed was a loser. There was no way Monica would let her do that modelling gig, she would only try to make her into one of her puppets. Myra felt like crying but she pushed the tears away from her eyes. What was the point of everything? both crying and being dragged around like a rag doll would profit her nothing!
Five Pm tomorrow right? They should wait till eternity!
She turned and walked out of the class with a cold look on her face. Surely, being pushed to the wall had it's provocative advantage. Even the gentlest animal would learn to bite when its pushed to the wall.