ll Latin Moon- Mia Martina ll
Thursday, August 2, 2012: Nothing's better than a party, right? Well, that's why we're throwing our annual Summer Dream party. This year's theme is Ararbian Nights. There will be traditional Arabian food there, as well as well as real belly dancers there for our entertainment, not to mention the customized alcoholic drinks that will also be served! So kick back and take it all in. Maybe watch some of the drama as well, since with us, there's bound to be.
"Oh, honey," I look in my mirror to see my mother standing behind me, and I sigh to myself, resisting the strong, building urge to roll my eyes at whatever backhanded comment she is about to say. I try to ignore her ignorance though, instead, running a hand through my soft, Arabian waves, while also inspecting my deep makeup that makes my eyes look more enchanting than ever, as well as my spray tan which has given me the best glow I could imagine. 

"Yes?" I answer, turning around and looking at her, crossing my thin arms over my chest, which is covered by an extremely short top. 
My outfit for tonight was perfect. It was sexy, yet completely Arabian. The mini, crop top showed off my tanned, concave stomach, while my sequined, Pucci skirt landed right at my hips and made my tiny waist look even tinier. At the end of my long, covered legs, where the neon red strappy sandals that completed everything. I was thinking I was going to be the belle of the ball tonight, but by the way my mother came up, I was guessing after she left I definitely wasn't going to be feeling like the belle any longer. 

"Don't you have anything a bit more… covering?" She asks, her voice as confident as ever. Whenever she puts me down on my looks, her voice doesn't even falter. She's gotten so good at it that she can say it without even thinking about her tone, the words just come out of her mouth with her superior mommy tone. 

I put on a tight, pissed smile, and look at her. "No," I say sharply. "And even if I did, I'm not changing," I say looking at her, looking her up and down. My mother was dressed head to toe like an Arabian princess, or queen, for that matter, with her sleek locks donned in a Jasmine-esque ponytail, and her body was wearing a long dress, beaded and embellished, and her bare arms were covered with shimmering powder to bring out her brilliance, or lack of. 

She sighs, "Whatever," She says carelessly. "But if I were you, I wouldn't have drank that entire bottle of Coke before putting that top on," She smirked, then winking to me before walking out my door. 
She was wrong. I hadn't eaten anything all day, except for some water. I didn't risk soda because I knew I would get bloated. 

I look at my stomach in the mirror. It was sunken in, naturally like that. When I turn to the side you can see the curve of it. How is that not enough? How silly was I, thinking that for once, I was actually going to please mommy? Thinking that for once, just for once, I'd be good enough. 
I sigh lightly, biting the inside of my cheek and walking outside of my room and into the bathroom, the bathroom that Cass and I shared. 
I was so weak. Here I was, sticking my finger down my throat and locking the door tightly, the cold water running on full blast as an attempt to drown out my noises. I was slipping back into old, bad habits, just so I could please mommy.

When I was done, I flushed, rinsed some water into my mouth, along with brushing my teeth and using the extra minty mouthwash until I was sure that the smell of vomit was off of me. I came out of the bathroom, looking to see if the coast was clear. Everyone was still in their rooms, getting ready for tonight. The party didn't start until later, but getting ready for it was an all day event in the Carmichael household. Outside, I could hear everyone setting everything up, the tents, the artificial floors, the everything that was set up in the backyard every year. 

I was just about to turn the knob to my door when I heard Claire's voice, "Cierra!" She said to me, a smile on her face. 

I stifled a smile, looking at her, "What's up?" I ask her as she pads towards me, her bare feet soft on the hard wooded hallway. 

"Did you hear that noise?" She asks. 

I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat, "Noise?" 

"Yeah," She said. "It was kinda muffled by running water and the sound of the people out there," She c*cks her head slightly in the direction of the backyard. "But it was like… gagging or something, it was weird, did you hear it?" 

Oh, great. And now I have to lie to her, the only sister I really enjoy. "No," I say, then turning open my door. "Didn't hear it at all, now I have to go get ready," I say quickly, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as I step inside, slamming the door fast. I could hear her about to say something and I feel bad. I just lied to her… completely. 
Just another sister to have something against me, I guess.

In the time that passes, I perfect my makeup even more. Earlier, a makeup artist came to do it for me, as well as the family hairstylist that did my perfect waves and braids. I touch it up a bit though and then precede to wait for the party. And after hours, it's time, and the guests start showing up. I'm called downstairs so that the family could make their grand entrance for the press. 
I look in the mirror a final time, taking a deep breath before coming down the stairs and heading out back, where everyone else is already waiting. I could see the lights of the party, the flashes of the photographers, along with the blurred images of Nantucket's finest. 

Here I go, I think to myself as my mother pushes open the door, us coming out in a long, large line. I better put on my happy face, I think silently as I then precede to smile, but it's mostly for the cameras, not for myself any more.
The camera flashes are bright, and they seem to blind me momentarily, sending stars into my eyes for a few seconds before I blink them away, then another round of flashes coming our way. 

After the photos are done for our grand entrance (even though there's probably going to be more photos by the end of the night), we all head our separate ways. My mother and father go on to talk to the Nantucket Times about how wonderful this events is and how fake blessed she feels to have such amazing daughters and amazing friends. 
Claire and the other sisters go to God knows where, off in other directions of the backyard, which has been made to look like an Arabian palace. There was so many large tents, with sweeping, cascading material around the entrances. There was a lot of candles, a lot of bright lights that were used to make it look like more modern. There were some small chairs, and some other chairs were just cushiony, hand embellished pillows. 
At the other end of the large backyard, under a separate, far more colorful tent, was a long as* buffet, filled with Arab cuisine and tasty desserts. I didn't even bother to think twice about that tent. I knew that as soon as I would get some kind of a food item in my hand my mother would magically appear out of nowhere and snatch it off of me, claiming that I 'don't need the carbs' or something equally as ridiculous and hurtful.

I looked to the side to see that the only sister beside me was Celeste, who was standing next to me, looking around, as if she didn't know where to begin. 
"Don't know where to go?" I ask.

Celeste was the sister that honestly, I didn't know much about. She was like a foreign language to me- harder to learn than to understand in the first place. And maybe I was the same for her. But sometimes, although our personalities clashes slightly often, we did have a true, sister moment, a really nice moment that I wished we could have forever. 

She nods, "It's just so… surreal," She says, looking at the vast tents and the little walk ways that led to them. 

I nod along. She was never one to really say much. 
"Looks like someone is trying to call you over," She says, nodding in the other direction. 
I looked to see that Jay was waving me over, two glasses of champagne in his hand, a smile on his gorgeous face. "New boy toy?" She asks. 

I shake my head, "No, not boy toy," I say, looking directly at her. "Just friend." 

"That's a first," She snorts, not mockingly though, but kinda shocked almost. 

I nod, "Yeah," I smile softly at her, "It is," I say before waving good-bye to her as I begin to walk towards Jay, lightly lifting to the top of my skirt so that I don't end up tripping and breaking my face on the walkway.

"Hey," I greet him, and he hands me the champagne. I smile at it. I was definitely going to need it to have to get through tonight. "Thanks," I say, as I look at him. 

"No problem," He says, then holding his glass up. "Cheers?" 

"To what?" I ask with a laugh. 

"To… this fantastic party," 

I cringed slightly at the word fantastic, because I knew that this party was far from it, but I kept my mouth shut, clinking my glass with his and then sipping the bubbly drink. 

"Where do you want to go?" He asks. 

I look to a smaller tent, near the end of the yard. There's a few people there, the transparent, beaded curtain sweeping over my view of them, but it's definitely the most secluded. The most private, and that's something I love because I wasn't in the mood for paparazzi, like I normally was. 
"Follow me," I say then carefully walking towards it, taking a sip of my champagne and keeping my head down so that I wouldn't be bombarded by some kind of reporter or photographer.

I pull back the curtain slightly, then taking a seat on a long, bright yellow pillow with beading and a dramatic looking design. I cross my long legs, taking a sip of my champagne and patting the spot next to me, gesturing for Jay to take a seat. There were some golden lantern hanging, casting some light along with some candles, but the tent was mainly illuminated by the bright flashing lights of the tent ahead of us, the one that held the dance floor with the dj, who was now playing some kind of music that I guess was supposed to be Arabian. 

"Quite a party," Jay comments. 

I nod, "Yeah, my mom always goes all out on it," I roll my eyes. 
They'd been hosting this party since I was born, or even before that, I think, I'm not sure. Each year there was a different theme, something unique, something interesting to keep the guests coming and the paparazzi buzzing, something to keep it still one of the top ten parties of the season. 
"My dad's going to have a cow when he finds out how much this sh*t costs," I chuckle. 

"Really?" Jay asks, and I take a sip of champagne, studying him. 

"Yeah," I say, looking at him. "Why? Do you somehow… doubt that?" I laugh. 

"No, I mean," He shrugs, "I just thought that you had an everlasting flow of money," He says simply. "You're royalty, you're the rich and everlasting, Carmichael clan." 

I laugh, "Please," I roll my eyes. "The only person in my family that's royalty, or /thinks/ she is, is my mother," I say taking a sip of my drink. "She's a royal pain in my as*." 

"I doubt that," Jay chuckles and I tilt my head to the side. 


"Why I doubt it?" He asks and I nod my head. "Well, you guys always seem like such a happy family, you know? Like the golden family, the family every family in Nantucket aspires to be," 

I laugh, "Please," I say, shaking my head. "Not only is this coming from the golden boy himself, Mr. Jason Alexander, but hasn't Shakespeare taught you anything? All that glitters is not gold." I remind him.

"Wow," He says, "Who knew that the rebel, problem child Carmichael knows what Shakespeare is." 

I fake glare at him, "I do somewhat pay attention in English class," I roll my eyes, then lightly jabbing him, "And who says /I/ was the problem child?" 

He shrugs his strong, broad shoulders. "I just kinda assumed, I mean, isn't that what the tabloids say about you?" 

I shrug, thinking about it. They mostly just said mean things and made up nasty rumors, but for the most part, he was right… I was kinda the problem child, the rebel, if you will. I was the one that liked to party. The one that seemed so confident, yet nobody knew I was crackling on the inside. 
"I guess," I settle.

There's silence after that, but I don't really mind. The party goes on- the dancing, the blaring music, the light breeze carrying the laughs of the ravishing guests. 
"Do you want to get a drink?" I ask suddenly, my mouth dry and in dire need of alcohol since I'd chugged down my champagne. 

"Sure," He says, standing up, as I do too, heading for the tent with the food and the alcohol. 
We reach the tent, and I grab one of the pre-made, Arabian Sunset cocktails in it's crystal champagne flute. Jay takes a simple glass of champagne and begins sipping it. 

"Cierra!" I look to see Claire and Celeste over by the dessert table, waving me over. 

"I'll be right back," I say to Jay, walking over to them to see what they were so happy about. 

I look at the both of them when I approach them and Claire stares right back at me, licking icing off a cupcake with orange, purple, and pink frosting. She hands me a cupcake identical to the one she just licked. "Try this! They're amazing!" 

Celeste nods in agreement, licking her lips and picking one up, taking off the paper and biting into it. 

I shake my head, "No thanks," I know I can't. If I do my mother will definitely make a comment about it later. And I can't let that happen. If I even let the frosting touch my lips, I'd have to go and run to the bathroom to get rid of it. I didn't want to have to do that. Doing it once today and having to lie about it so that I didn't get caught is already enough.

"Come onnn," She says, nudging to cupcake closer to me, "You know you want too!" She sing songs.

I push it away, a bit firmly, "I don't want it," 

"Come on," She pressures me. 

"Yeah, come on, it's just a cupcake," Celeste nods, agreeing. 

"No," I say forcefully, my voice snapping slightly. 

Claire looks at me, setting the cupcake down, a wave of disappointment passing over her face in a matter of pure seconds. "What's wrong? You haven't been acting like yourself…" 

I take in a deep breath. I hate doing this to her. The one sister I can stand to be around and the one sister that actually can stand to be around me as well. "Nothing, I'm fine," I say. 

Celeste looks at me, studying me with a quizzical look on her face, her eyes practically glued to me. She knew something was up. She wasn't an idiot. By far she wasn't. 

I look away from her, her eyes burning holes into me. "I'll see you later," I say before walking off, back to where Jay was standing, patiently waiting. His champagne was almost gone by now, and my drink was still untouched, but suddenly, I wasn't feeling so thirsty. 

"Everything okay?" He asks and I begin walking, resorting back to the other tent. 

"I'd rather not talk about it," 
Included @istylista + @silvermoons And just and fyi for any of the other girls, nobody knows about the whole Cierra puking thing, so yeah, don't comment about it :)
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