Excerpt from 4 Blondes by Candace Bushnell.
After a while, I begin to row back to the dock in the charmingly beat-up old rowboat. I have a cigarette between my lips and I'm aware of my short blond hair, a slight pink blush on my cheeks and my bare shoulders.
And when I'm almost at the shore, Patrice shouts, "Hey Cecelia," and I look over my shoulder and he fires off as many pictures as he can in five seconds.
The following week, this photograph is beamed all over the world. In it, the expression on my face is: frowning slightly, yet a little surprised; still young, and I'm wearing the nearly see-through baby-blue Bentley dress, the lines of my slim yet shapely figure clearly visible. The caption reads: RICH, BEAUTIFUL, AND FIERCELY INDEPENDENT, PRINCESS CECELIA KELLY LUXENSTEIN IS THE LEADER OF THE NEW MILLENNIUM SOCIETY.
And I realise: This is my life.
SMILE.
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Uncooperative, petty, has an attitude problem and unfriendly?
Well, maybe that's what I am.
But that's my problem, isn't it?
Oh yeah, I thought things were getting better at the beginning of the day. You told me that they were friends that didn't matter, friends that you could stand to lose. I kind of wanted to tell you, "Then, what about me? Seriously I don't think I matter much to you, when you can stand to lose them. I guess that sort of means that, you can stand to lose me too, right?"
But the point is, at least you kind of, talked to me. At least I know how you feel, so maybe I should give up.
Then things got worse. I cried on the bus again, after Ah Looi alighted. I really cried. Some people were staring at me like I was some kind of freak. So I had to lower my head so no one could see. When I got home, my sister said it was stupid to cry, why did I have to cry, it's so stupid, did I know?
It reminded me of this line in Millennium by Cosmic Club:
"Remember, time goes by, no time to cry."
And for once, I felt touched. Genuinely, sincerely, yet ridiculously touched. And as I left the study room, I ran upstairs and I cried again. I have never been so touched to the extent of crying. Never. For once, it actually felt like someone cared.
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I love sleeping, eating and my imaginary tattoo.
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