CHAPTER 9 - Past

                                        

                                              
I skipped school the next day. It wasn't difficult to convince Valentina, who came to check up on me in the morning, that I was ill. A look in the mirror wasn't needed to know there were bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep I got.
Over and over again I replayed dinner with Luca in my head. I imagined myself finally standing up to him, or storming out of the restaurant, and how good it would feel. Then I followed up with the consequences of doing either of those. No matter what angle I looked at it, they were always bad. 
When my dad had his breakthrough with business, and announced we'd be moving to West London, my mum sat me down to speak to me that night. She'd always been distant and cold, from me and from her husband. I tried my hardest not to take it personally, as I knew their constant arguments about finances took a toll on their marriage. But it was hard when she treated strangers nicer than her own daughter.
"Fallon, we're not only moving houses." She'd said to me, eyes heavy on my face. "We're starting a new life. Your dad has generated more money than any of us could have ever dreamed of. With the right moves, we'll be up there with the rich and wealthy."
"Your new school will be filled with kids who were born into that life. The last thing you want is for them to look down on you. You have to fit in. Not only for yourself, but for me and your father, alright? If you befriend other students, especially those whose families are in the same business sector as us, it will make us even more successful."
At the time, her words had gone through one ear and come out the other. I was too busy daydreaming about what our future held. No more arguments that had me hiding in my room. No more stress about how I would afford to go to university. And if we had more money, dad would be at work less right?
I couldn't have been more wrong. When I came home from the first day of school at Durham Grammar, she'd been waiting for a debrief from me in the living room. Then she'd told me about Mrs Courtnaey, a popular interior designer who she had a meeting with. Her son was named Lucas. And I had to befriend him.
A few months later, when I informed her about Luca asking me on a date, she'd looked so happy. So proud. It caught me off guard, and she went a step further to hug me. Her embrace shouldn't have felt foreign, but whilst it did it was also nice.
"You see? By dating him you can make a name for yourself." Mum had told me, ecstatic. "The Courntey family is one of the most influential in the area, and business industry. You've made the right choice." Then she'd taken a good look at me, contemplating. "Fallon, I want you to be the face of my clothing brand. My main model."
I remember feeling stunned. "I can't model!"
She pinned me with a warning look. "You can, and will. You're very beautiful, and surprisingly exactly what I'm looking for. Your height is perfect, and with a bit of lost weight everything will be fine."
Before I could have processed anything, she continued. "This is our world now. While your dad has his business, I also have mine. I want to be one of the best fashion designers of my generation, and you will help me, yes?"
Then she'd pulled out her phone, tapping away. "I'll arrange an appointment with my beautician for you, so you can get prepared for your date with him this weekend." 
And that was that. 
Despite the pressure I'd felt, my first date with Luca had gone well. He was the most charming person I ever felt, and knowing the weight of his family name made me feel privileged he'd chosen me out of everyone. A nobody from the worst part of London. 
Looking back at it, that was the start of the power imbalance in our relationship. I viewed him like he was royalty, my mum's words always in the back of my head. And he acted like it. Luca knew the power that came with his wealth and utilised it. He was really the one who introduced me to the politics of the upper class. The importance of connections, especially my one with him.