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CHAPTER ONE
Ada
“The reflection in the mirror is my friend.”
I whisper the same words almost every time that I look at it. Staring at my reflection, I can’t help but feel like I’m a kid playing dress up in something far too fancy for me. Which is just stupid. Objectively, if I were looking at a picture instead of a mirror, I would have a million and one compliments to give the woman about the dress that she’s wearing. I would tell her how lovely her skin looks and to make sure to smile.
I look away before I can start to pick apart the flaws that only I ever seem to see in my reflection.
With my back safely turned against the full-length mirror, I turn my focus to the team of stylists and makeup artists waiting to finish getting me ready for the Met Gala tonight instead. It’s my first. To say that I’m nervous would be an understatement.
My spacious Manhattan apartment is filled with many more people than I have ever invited over myself. Yet, I wish that the designer of the dress was here to keep me company. Maeve, my best friend, is a fashion designer and I’m wearing the gown that will serve as her debut to the public. It’s the first time that one of her dresses is being worn to something so huge. She’s really pulled out the stops on this masterpiece, too. A perfect combination of soft ivory fabric, delicate lace and shimmering satin. I look like an otherworldly creature. It shows off my lithe frame in all of the places that Maeve wanted it to. The subtle sparkle of the sequins catches the light in all of the right places. Maybe I’m crazy, but it almost looks like there’s an ethereal sort of glow hovering around me. It’s like the gown has managed to shift and change the light of the room around me magically. That’s enough of a reason to go. More people need to see just how amazing of a designer Maeve is. I owe her at least that much.
Forgetting my troubles for a minute, I can’t help but smile at Maeve’s sheer genius.
“Are you done? Can you sit now, please?” Lila, my stylist and makeup artist, cuts through my thoughts and nods pointedly to the chair in front of her. The one where I’m supposed to be getting the finishing touches on my hair put in. I sit obediently. It’s an effort to keep from pulling my knees up to my chest as I sit. It’s lucky that the dress is tight enough to limit movements like that. It’s also going to force my posture to be perfect.
At least I can pass the time looking at the spectacular view of Manhattan.
I chose this apartment for the floor to ceiling windows that line the whole living room. The views are breathtaking.
A warm golden hue paints the room and soft classical music that my manager always insists on pervades it. Everybody is speaking in hushed tones because of her as well. She insists on it to ensure that when I walk those infamous stairs in an hour or so I will be at peak performance. She’s all for zen energy.
My bodyguard, Alberto, is standing over by the front door with his hands clasped comfortably in front of him. Decked in black from head to toe, he is the only one in the room not in neutral earth tones, so he stands out. I can’t even remember a point in my life where I didn’t have security guards surrounding me everywhere I go. Alberto is a godsend. Such is the life of a Dominio and of someone whose brother is a powerful Cosa Nostra clan leader. Standing at six foot two, Alberto is tall and imposing. His muscular build exudes an air of quiet authority that somehow attracts attention and simultaneously makes others want to not look at him directly.
But, despite his intimidating aura, I’ve always taken comfort in his steadfastness.
He catches me looking at him, and sends a friendly wink in my direction. I don’t know exactly at what point over the last five years he and I became such good friends, but we have. Apart from Lila, he’s likely the one that I’m close with here in the room. The only two that I would feel comfortable trusting with my actual inner thoughts, that’s for sure. No one else. I have to be the top model persona with everybody but them.
“Are you sure about the dress, Ada?” Alberto asks, his deep voice cutting through the hum of activity.
I turn to him, a playful smile on my lips. “It’s perfect, Alberto. Maeve outdid herself this time, don’t you think?”
Alberto’s stern expression softens slightly as he nods. “It’s beautiful. You look stunning.”
My smile widens but it quickly falters as I catch sight of myself in the mirror once more. I don’t understand how nobody else can see the toll that years in this industry has started to take on me. I can see the dark circles under my eyes despite the lovely makeup. There’s a hollowness to my cheeks that wasn’t there before. I know that I look exactly the way my agency wants me to look, but I don’t feel like I’m actually the person looking back at me. Why does everything have to be so complicated?
“I think that’s enough for the hair. What do you think?”
I look up to the small handheld that Lila is holding and it takes my breath away. “I think that you’ve outdone yourself, like you always do.”
“You flatter me.”
I wink at her cheekily. “You make it easy.”
She puts the mirror down and grabs a palette of shimmering eyeshadows before walking around in front of me to touch up my makeup for the third time in the last hour.
Lila has a vibrant presence, with curly, shoulder-length auburn hair, warm brown eyes and a penchant for bold, colorful fashion. Her medium build and radiant smile always puts everyone at ease. She’s been with me through the highs and lows of my career these past five years and I trust her completely.
“Alright, let’s make you look like the goddess you are,” Lila says, her voice filled with determination. She finishes my eyeshadow with practiced precision, adding a touch of glamor to the look.
As Lila works, I internally fight the hunger pangs building in my stomach silently. When’s the last time that I ate something? With everything going on, does it really matter? I had to fit into the dress. I just hope that nobody hears the grumbling. I take a calming breath, determined not to move and mess up Lila’s work. It’s my body. I’m the one in control. I decide.
As far as everybody around me is concerned, I overcame my eating disorder many years ago. Most people in my life think that it was some sort of phase that I had had in high school. Cristiano, my older brother, sent me to rehab just before college thinking everything was fixed. He’s kept a watchful eye since and I know he would think of it as some sort of personal failure if he knew that I still had so many lingering symptoms. I know that the first time that he saw me upchuck my lunch, he would be on me all over again. I can’t let that happen.
I certainly didn’t choose the best industry to be in for a person with an eating disorder. I make it look effortless now but for so many years the other girls that were trying to be scouted like me, bullied me mercilessly. That’s why my little “phase” started in the first place but I never told Cristiano that. He would have never let me keep modeling and it’s the only thing I’m good at. I need this.
Nobody can know that it’s something that will always be lurking right below the surface.
