My Billionaire Enemy Loves Me

CHAPTER 7 : HER TEARS WORTH MILLIONS

Chapter 7

Her Tears Worth Millions

Sitting on her chair inside the dressing room, Stephanie could tell that there something off with her manager. Fidgeting and smiling like a dog whenever their eyes meet. Vodka is very much an open book kind of person, and after years of being with Stephanie, maybe that's an enough reason for her to notice when there's something wrong.

"Tell me what's going on, Vodka. Not that you're acting really weird and shaking your legs like you badly want to pee on your pants." She finally spoke up when she notice how thin her patience about that loud tapping of his shoes he makes.

Vodka immediately stopped shaking his right leg and leans forward to place his chin above his fists. "What? There's nothing wrong, sweetie. I'm just... you know, lacking of sleep." He then chuckled shakily.

Lifting her right eyebrow, her suspicion grew bigger when Vodka didn't even make an eye contact with her when he said those. "You're not going to tell me even if I say that I'll treat you dinner for tonight?" Dropping a bait into a trap, all that she's waiting for is him biting it.

Not bothering to answer, her manager just busied himself with his phone. Knowing that, Stephanie pushes the hands of the make up artist who works on retouching her make up and quietly told them that she's already satisfied with how she looks.

Shooting for the advertisement of the company she's been contracted with, this is her usual job. To be the model of some brands who wants to grow the sale scale of their market. She's been doing modeling as a part time job for years, when her acting schedule is empty. And this time, she's working on a company owned by the father of the man she hates.

Planning to check on her phone since everyone's having a break, she took her bag and fetch her phone. But just as soon as she got it, Vodka immediately snatched it from her hand.

"Whoa, Vodka, remember that we talked about this? It's my 'personal property' so give me my little privacy. Remind you that I don't meddle your relationship with that bald headed guy you met last month in the bar." She rolled her eyes and opens her palm at him. "Now give me my phone."

There's a little panic in his eyes, especially the hesitation is so obvious. "Well the director might call you anytime, so I guess getting distracted isn't part of the choices. We're talking about getting paid for millions, Stephie." He reasoned out and gulped audibly.

The thin thread of patience finally broke, and so she faced him wholly with a face saying that she's not playing any games here. "Vodka, I know that there's something you're not telling me. If you keep going like this, it's better if you don't show your face on me this whole day. Spill it now." She strictly uttered.

Her manager groaned and holds on to his head. "I can't you yet, Stephie. You still have a shoot and I don't want you to get distracted--"

"Now, Vodka."

"I don't want to hurt you." The sincerity in his eyes unveil when he looked at her right in her eyes. He already shares the pain she haven't feeling before she could even know the reason why to be hurt. "It's about Terry." He finally let it roll out from his tongue.

"What about him? Is he okay? Did something happened to him?" Terrified, she started asking questions. She loves Terry and she couldn't handle it if something bad happens to him. "Vodka, what happened?" She asked once again but instead of answering, he only showed her the face of sympathy.

Wanting to find answers, she snag her phone from Vodka's hand and started to browse for her boyfriend's name. "I think that worrying would be the last thing for you to feel about him." He placed his right hand above her slumped shoulder.

Internet says it all, scooped and captured him doing the deed with another woman. He's cheating on her... cheating on her best friend Cindy. There's a picture of them inside his car, kissing and almost undressed. It's like deja vu for her. Why is it that she's so unlucky when it comes to loving a man? Why does she always have to suffer from loving someone? Why does it always hurt this much?

"I shouldn't have let you see that." Vodka's small voice echoed in her ears that woke her from the shock. Her hands starts to shake, as her eyes felt hot. Her breathing became uneven but she managed to take deep breaths and swallow the lump forming in her throat.

"No, it's fine." She choked and pushes her phone away from her hand. "Can you-- can you ask the director when will the shoot be continued, please?" Looking up and blinking a few times, she doesn't water to cry. Not on this state.

"All right." Vodka knows what she meant by that, she needs her space. But there's a problem, she's working and she's got to condition herself. She's no use if she's like this.

"That son of a b--" She inhaled sharply and released her breath slowly. This is not just her day.

It felt like she's got hundreds of needles poking her heart, making it hard for her to breathe. Her eyes felt like there's someone boiling water in it and her brain stopped working.

Now what is it that she has to do? Sulk? Lock herself up in her room and cry her eyes out? Act like nothing happened? Or will she just book a flight to where her boyfriend of an ass and her best friend of a leech are and use their faces to clean her chores?

Shaking her head negatively, she stood up from her chair. "They're not worth it the effort." She silently mumbled through her breath, walking herself to calm with both of her hand attached to her wide hips. "They're trash, Stephanie. He's just a used diaper thrown in the trash, you don't cry for a used diaper. Don't you dare cry over him. He's not worth it, he's not worth it." She talked to herself and fixes her hair.

Finding both of her eyes looking back at her from the mirror, she draw her lip a little smile. A constipated one.

"Stop smiling like that, Stephanie. You look like pooping."

▪︎

She didn't shed a tear, even when her phone never stopped ringing last night while she sat on her second favorite couch and watching the Walking dead series season 7.

Her mind is blank, as well as her heart doesn't mind feeling the pain s******g her lungs from taking deep breaths from time to time.

Believing that there are lot of things to cry about other than her stupid cheating boyfriend like, the nail she broke when she tried opening a canned juice, her ruined diet, her favorite earphones gave up on her, why Iron Man had to die, global warming, gender inequality. Those are the things she would likely to cry about, not a gutless man.

But even so she's trying her best to be fine, she cannot hide the fact that she's not okay.

Eight in the morning and she's glaring at her phone from the bed side, having this little arguement in her head whether if she will check it or not.

Poking her tongue on the inside of her cheek, she decided to pick it up and see what kind of evil chants she's got. Expecting some "let me explain" or "it's not true" or maybe "I'm sorry, please talk to me" kind of message from Terry...

She's got none.

"The nerve of that guy!" She yelled loud enough for the whole town to hear her shriek. Certainly some of the resting birds outside her house must be startled severely. "He shouldn't show his face on me, or I will shave his shaggy Invisible eyebrows!" She kicked her feet in the air, throwing punches in front of her, tossing all the pillows around her, even the innocent blanket got in a fight with her.

She looks like she needs an exorcism.

And when she finally calmed down, she stood up from her bed and see how she messed it gruffly. But then ended up cleaning and organizing everything she muddle quietly. That's not a perk of living alone.

Marching downstairs, holding her phone she can't leave with. She wears a face that no one can ever calculate. Even how much she's trying to compose herself, she just explodes and stomps her feet on the tiled floor. Everything around her pisses her off. Even the stuffed toy displayed on her living room couldn't escape her boiking wrath.

"What are you looking at? You haven't been washed for over a year so don't look at me like you're the cleanest thing in the world." She spat on the stuffed toy before heading towards her kitchen and ready her food on the counter that's useful only when she's got take outs.

Sitting on the stool and chomping on her unhealthy breakfast, her phone rang that gave her a reason to furrow. It's her manager.

Vodka was so worried of her yesterday, probably having thoughts of her hanging herself on the ceiling or jumping from the balcony of her house. That's the silliest thing to add, her house is only two stories high. She'd rather use the staircase than earn more than a sprained ankle. She would look stupid.

"Yes, Vodka?"

"You sounded more okay to me, are you?" His horsey voice tells her that he just woke up. And knowing her manager, he never fail to wake up in exactly six in the morning. He's probably on a date last night. Harsh, he's on a date while she mopes aroujd her house last night.

"I feel better than how you felt last night." Trickily, she answered. And she confirmed her skepticism when he gasped delectably. "Figured." She mumbled. "I'm sure you didn't call just to ask me if I'm okay, what's the drill?" She asked as if she's not going through something.

"Well, there was a scheduled meeting for you and the other people involved with the liquor company we're working on. But if you don't feel like going, I could tell them that you can't and I'll be the representative." He instantly offered but Stephanie doesn't plan on burying herself in her house especially that she needs a little distraction from what she's going through.

"No, I'm going. Where will it be held?" She asked before finishing her supposed one hour breakfast and place the plate in the sink.

"What? Are you sure about this?" Vodka asked with a whole lot of enthusiasm in his voice.

"A lot certain that making eight track tapes, Vodka." She replied and told herself that she will wash the plates when she finds her mood doing it.

"All right, I will uh-- I will message you the address. But there's no need to rush. The meeting is on past noon. While waiting, do you want me to fetch you something? I'm going out to check on something." There's shuffles followed when he said those, he's probably readying himself to go out even without taking a quick shower.

"No, but I'm heading to the salon. I gotta do my lashes for the next pictorial I got." Stephanie marches back upstairs so she could ready herself.

"What? You're going out?! Don't you think that it's a bad idea?" He asked, momentarily paused for a second when he realized that he just reminded her the issue.

Rolling her eyes, she just curved her lips up. "Yes, Vodka. I'm going out and I don't need anyone following my ass. All I care about right now is the way I look, okay? And besides, I'm sure nothing bad will happen to me."

And that's when she stepped on the ground.