(051 - I feel Sexy)

I apologize in advance for how rushed this chapter might seem. I had to divide it into two because the other part is going to be quite lengthy.

The first few paragraphs of this chapter are going to be extremely triggering so brace yourselves. It's a Semeeha's POV-dominated chapter, so you should know what to expect... or not💀. Babe tends to surprise us every time.

Sha, brace yourselves. Let's dive in, but try not to drown.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐇𝐀
(Semeeha Iris Malik)

Five...

Four...

Three...

I wasn't even done counting down before my tummy started making weird noises, followed by a slight discomfort. It started mild until it wasn't. in a matter of seconds, I started feeling very uncomfortable, clutching my abdomen as a groan escaped my lips. Soon, sweat began to break out from every pore in my body.

A wave of nausea hit me.

Okay, this is it...

I could feel everything I had eaten throughout yesterday, every junk I had snuck into my room, away from the prying eyes of my mother, to stuff my face with, even the ones I had snacked on early this morning, build up in my tummy. It then moved to my chest, until I started feeling it my throat.

In no time, I began to gag.

With my palm clasped over my mouth, I pushed the door of my bathroom and ran inside. I fully crouched down before in emptied the contents of my stomach down into the ceramic toilet bowl. The disgusting mix of yellow, green, brown, and colors I have never seen on a palette splattered everywhere.

I swear, I saw something that looked like tomato and a strand of green that looked like lettuce from one of the hamburgers I ate last night.

"God-"

I started to choke out, but my words were cut shut when another stream of vomit left my mouth and into the bowl. I could hear the sound of my own regurgitation echoing through the walls of the big washroom.

So disgusting, but it had to be done.

I shut my eyes, choking on my own vomit as the thick rush of fluid spilled out and fell to splash on the ceramic bowl. With how close my face was to the bowl, I knew some might have gotten on my face. Thankfully, my hair was held up on a bonnet so I didn't have to worry about it getting in the way.

I kept spilling my gut for the longest minutes, my body completely drenched with sweat. I even got comfortable, sitting down on the tiled floor of the bathroom as I emptied my bowels. Soon, a sharp winy stench filled the cool air, but I didn't care.

All I wanted to do was let it all out till I was satisfied. And I wasn't yet satisfied.

I stuck my index and middle finger into my mouth and pushed it down to my tonsils to spark up my gag reflex. I didn't have to do that for long before I started throwing up again. But this time, it look and felt different because there was no more food left to throw up.

Now, I was just throwing up fluids, yellowish fluids. And I didn't stop till I was satisfied.

I touched my hand to my stomach to feel it. It felt empty. I felt empty, and completely brained. But that was a good thing. No, it was the best thing.

Without cleaning myself up or flushing down the haiku of disgust in my toilet bowl, I ran out of the bathroom and into my closet, stopping when I came to stand in front of my full-length mirror. I ignored how sickly and drained I looked, or how bitter my mouth tasted and focused on the most important thing.

My tummy.

I hoisted my singlet up to make my abdomen visible to my eyes. From the angle of facing the mirror, it looked empty and flat, just like how it felt when I touched my hand to it in the bathroom. But I knew looking at it from that angle won't do justice to the way it actually looked. I knew for a fact that the front view wasn't the best.

It wasn't the perfect view.

So, I turned my body to the side and looked at it from that angle. The angle that would let me see if I had any hint of a tummy bump or not. The angle that would let me see if it was truly flat like it felt. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for minutes, inspecting and scrutinizing ever so religiously,

Till a small smile of contentment tugged at the corners of my lips.

My tummy was flat. Completely flat.

I didn't even know when a sigh of relief escaped my lips. My eyes landed on the small bottle of laxatives on my table and I picked it up, my lips stretching further as I looked at it.

This thing works wonders. I thought to myself, shaking the bottle slightly before setting it back down on the table.

I looked at my reflection one more time and smiled, finally satisfied.

When I wanted to walk out, my leg wobbled and I nearly collapsed on the floor. So I sat out on the couch in my closet, taking deep breaths to resuscitate myself while keeping in mind that school starts in thirty minutes and I'm yet to have my bath.

It's not like they can punish me anyway. Asides from the fact that SS3 students are quite free at this point, they won't dare punish The Semeeha Malik. So, I can rest for as long as I want and gain back my energy.

You need to gain back that energy by eating something.

That annoying tiny voice in my head said, causing me to hiss. I shook my head immediately, shutting it down. At this point, eating wasn't even an option. Not after I just painstakingly got rid of every food in my system.

I had woken up to a heavily bloated belly. With the plans I had for school today, it definitely wasn't in the cards to go to school looking like I had a baby elephant in my tummy. Besides, I didn't want to inconvenience myself by wearing a waist trainer. It wasn't even part of the plan I had today. But those weren't the major reasons I did what I did.

Natasha Malik was home.

She has been home for weeks now, almost a month actually. It was quite bothersome having her around because that woman hardly spends a weekend in the house, even though I knew why she was home for this long.

I have tons of photoshoots between the end of this month and the whole of December, endorsement deals to bag before the end of the year, as well as the preparation for a big-shot fashion show I'd be starring in next year.

Photoshoots and endorsement deals were normal, but the Fashion Show was scary. Especially since I was going to be at the center of it all.

My mother has been spelling it out for me, singing it like a song since she's been home so that it would stick in my head that that Fashion Show is going to be the stepping stone to the pinnacle of my career.

She has been reciting it like a mantra that has been ringing in my head for almost a month now that that Fashion Show will give me a bigger, more momentous, and prominent recognition in the international entertainment and modeling industry.

In her words, I'll be set for life if that night goes perfectly.

If I do everything perfectly.

So, it was something critical and delicate, especially since Natasha Malik decided to make herself available to run things by herself.

On a normal day, she'd have traveled to God knows where and left everything in the hands of her personal assistant, Sheba, or Mama Marie. But not this time. Not at this period.

Whatever decision we made now would either make or mare my career for life. And whatever I did will automatically be linked to my mother. Natasha Malik can never be made a laughing stock

I can never be made a laughing stock.

That's why I had to do everything right by her at this point. I have to do everything she wants exactly the way she wants, no questions asked. Thank heaven that I've gotten a solution for my excessive binge eating. Now I can eat as much as I want to because I'll be able to get rid of it later.

She has been monitoring my feeding pattern. One meal a day and it was just fruit and vegetable salad with water. So God knows, she would have skinned me alive and hung my skin as a monument in her office if she saw the way I looked this morning.

Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about that now because right now, I looked good. Really Good. My tummy was flat, my waist was slim and curved perfectly. I had no extra fat anywhere. Besides, I'm going to dress up to school today like the confident bitch I was.

Mother will like the upgrade.

Dawn and Hilary will miss being associated with someone like me and come right back. They are taking too long anyway, so they need an incentive.

But most importantly, Kizito.

I smiled to myself as I let my mind continue thinking about him. When has it ever stopped thinking about him though?

He will look at me twice. Three times even. I will give him something to keep his mind busy... to keep his mind away from her gradually.

That last thought brought a smile to my lips. I tried to stop myself from my smiling but couldn't help it. My lips kept stretching till my smile transcended into a full grin, and then into fits of giggles. I kept giggling to myself as I stared back at my reflection.

My Perfect Reflection.

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Sexy.

That was one word I could use to describe how I looked right now. Sexy.

The simple fact that I could use that word to describe myself for once, that I could use that word to describe everything I was feeling at this moment made my head swell with so much pride for myself.

I felt an overwhelming sense of self-worth wash over me like a wave and I smiled again at my reflection for the nth time since the morning started. I was proud of myself for coming up with this. I don't know why I didn't think about it earlier.

For the first time ever, I could look at my reflection in the mirror and feel... Sexy. Worthy. Confident in my body.

I mean, if this was how she dressed that made her feel sexy and overly self-confident in her body, that made Kizito look at her like she was a star that dropped down from heaven and deemed it fit to live among the likes of us humans, then I can dress the exact way and feel sexy.

And that's exactly what I was feeling right now. Sexy.

I turned to the side, staring at my bare flat tummy in my reflection, and tugged down on the hem of my now crop school uniform shirt, smiling proudly at my work. Almost all my school uniform shirts were like that now, I altered them myself.

Then, I glanced down at my phone, looking at the picture that inspired this look to see if I got everything right, if I looked exactly the way Gigi Esho looked in the picture.

"Her skirt is shorter,"

I said to myself, pulling up the band of my now slim fitted school skirt, but not too much so as not to cover my tummy, to bare more of my pantyhose-covered thighs.

When I was done, I looked back at the picture and smiled at my reflection in satisfaction. Then I picked up my lip gloss and applied more to my lips to make them fully, glossier like Gigi Esho's.

Perhaps, that's why Kizito likes kissing her.

Every image I've seen of them locking lips appeared in my mind at that thought and I grimaced, bile rising in my throat. It was disgusting, thinking about it, especially their first kiss ever at TK's party. That was the day when everything turned upside down for me.

Gosh, I curse that day with everything in me!

With determination, I decided within me that I'm going to draw his attention to my lips too. And with that decision, I applied more gloss till my lips were glistening as if I dipped it in vegetable oil.

After smacking my lips to align the gloss, I adjusted the fringe weave I had on, flipping it this way and that before I bared my teeth at my reflection in a final grin.

I looked Confident, Gorgeous, and Audacious.

I look Sexy... just like her.

And just the thought that I looked like Gigi Esho made my entire day. If this was how she felt just staring at her reflection in the mirror, then it was everything wonderful.
Everything Amazing.

"Sexy Mama!" I hyped myself, giggling and striking several poses, pouting my glossy lips and blowing kisses to my reflection.

I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful. Just like Gigi Esho.

The annoying sound of the knock on my door interrupted my self-appraisal and my lips turned upside down in a frown. Before I could even answer, the knock came again, louder this time... and more annoying.

I knew it had to be one of those stupid maids. That's because Natasha Malik has never stepped foot in my room, and Mama Marie was not in town. It was definitely one of the maids and I'll make sure I deal with whoever the fool is.

"Who is that idiot!" I snapped, clearly irritated at the interruption.

"I'm sorry, small madam," The fool called from behind my door, loud enough for me to hear in my closet. "Big Madam said I should..."

The rest of her words trailed off in my head because my entire body instinctively straightened up as soon as I heard her say Big Madam, goosebumps sprouting on my skin immediately as unease washed over me like water. Every single self-confidence I was feeling up until this point faded away into the air and I started feeling uncomfortable, even in my own skin.

Just the simple idea that Natasha Malik was calling me was enough to do that to me.

This was the moment of truth

"Small madam?" The long-forgotten idiot from behind the door called to me and interrupted my thoughts again, probably wondering why I haven't answered her.

"I'm coming! Get away jhor!" I snapped at her again, and heard her rapid footsteps fade away as she got away from my door.

I suddenly felt weak... faint, slouching over the table with my hands supporting my frame. My breath started coming out in short, rapid pants. Soon, sweat broke out on my forehead. No matter how much I used the back of my palm to clean my face, it didn't stop. I only succeeded in smearing and ruining my make-up.

My tummy started making weird noises and I started feeling the urge to throw up again, even though I had absolutely nothing left to throw up in my system. So, I swallowed hard, pushing everything down to the pit of my stomach, and rose my head up to look at my reflection.

I looked terribly sick.

No. No. I'm not going to ruin an already perfect day.

"Take a deep breath, Semeeha," I whispered, willing myself to take deep calming breaths into my clogged lungs.

"She just wants to see you, no biggie," I said to myself, trying to believe that nothing could go wrong by being in the same space with my mother. But I knew for a fact that everything goes wrong when I'm with my mother. That's why I put this much effort this morning. This much effort to look perfect for her.

But what I don't look perfect to her?

"Pull yourself together," I slapped my cheeks, shaking my head vigorously to clear my mind of any haziness.

I look sexy. I feel sexy. And she's going to feel that way too.

So with that thought, I touched up my face and adjusted everything out of place. I looked at Gigi Esho's picture one last time, checking if I copied everything correctly.

Hair. Check.

Make-up Style. Check.

Crop Shirt. Check.

Slim-Fitted Skirt. Check.

Black Heel Boots. Double Check.

The black transparent net pantyhose was my own extra special touch and it was a good choice. I gave my reflection one final smile before I made my way out of my room.

I've got this.

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I can't even remember the last time I entered my mother's room, so it was weird standing in front of her room like this.

It meant things were more serious than I thought.

Normally, when mother summons me like she did the morning, she'll wait for me by the dining room and say whatever she wants to say right there in the midst of everyone, unflinchingly. I was already waiting for her in the dining room when the maid, possibly from earlier came to tell me that she had summoned me to her room instead.

That made me feel even more uneasy. I don't know what she wanted to see me for, but the mere thought of being in an enclosed space with my mother made me feel on edge.

And no, not in a good way.

"Calm down," I whispered to myself, taking a deep breath to calm my overworked nerves and exhaling.

"This is just like every other meeting with her," I added, swallowing for the umpteenth time. With that said, I raised my hand and knocked on the door.

Once.

I didn't dare knock more than that, or badge in because I wasn't getting any response. I can remember that simple rule she gave from way back.

"Knock just once," She had instructed me. "Then wait for thirty seconds for the door to be opened. If it doesn't open after thirty seconds, leave."

So I started counting down the seconds.

And till I was down to the final ten seconds, the door still wasn't opened.

Final five... still nothing. I held my breath.

Final four...

Three...

Two...

On-

The door flew open at that second, revealing my mother's assistant, Sheba, and a sigh of relief escaped my lips.

Thank God.

Sheba was still in her youth, but as per mother's request, she always dressed too cooperate and business-like for her own good, making her look too serious and older than her age. She peered at me through her thick-rimmed glasses for a moment, her blunt-cut bob weave swaying daintily before she finally moved away from the way.

"Semeeha," she called my name in a curt greeting.

"Sheba," I responded in like manner, walking into the room was twice of some people's living room. Yes, it was that big.

I sighted two maids at the far end of the room, one holding a bowl of water, the second one holding a tray of hand sanitizer and towel. I looked around, but didn't see the one that had summoned me here.

My mother.

But I guess I spoke too soon.

"Iris,"

The smooth and slick, yet icy voice of the one who had birthed me filled the room, causing a chill to run down my spine. I don't know how the others were unaffected by the coldness in her tone but I literally shivered at the sound of her voice, calling my name.

I turned around to see her walking out of her restroom, her chiffon gown flowing behind her with every graceful step she took toward me. And with every step she took towards me, my heart thudded in perfect sync, hitting heavily against my ribcage.

She walked closer and closer, her eyes trained intently on me and I held my breath for what was to come.

But she brushed past me like a breeze, leaving only her scent behind. That confused the shit out of me.

What...

"You are late,"

She continued like she had not stopped, and I turned again to look at her. She was now in front of the maid with the bowl of water, dipping her hand in and rinsing slowly. I was still watching her when I remembered she said something that required a response.

"I'm sorry, mother," I curtsied, even though she couldn't see me. She was done washing her hand, and now, she had moved to the maid with the towel and sanitizer, doing the necessary.

She didn't say anything in response to my apology, so I thought to continue.

"I thought you were going to be at the dining-"

She rose her neatly manicured index finger up, automatically cutting me off and shutting me up. I waited in silence, watching as she brought the hand down, and took her sweet time to spurt sanitizer into her palms before rubbing them together.

And when she was finally done with that, she turned around and cast her eyes on me.

I swallowed but stood still.

It was hard to tell what was going through her head because her beautifully made-up face was impassive. Her expression has always been impassive. The only place you can get the tiniest bit of hint of whatever emotion she's feeling was from her eyes.

But that was just as difficult, because it was a herculean task, holding Natasha Malik's gaze. Her stares have always been and will always be intense to the core.

Just like right now.

She was scrutinizing me from head to toe till I was almost burning under her gaze. I was already sweating under the chilling air of the air conditioning so it was only a matter of time before I melt to the ground in a puddle.

Maybe altering my outfit was a bad idea. It was a terrible idea, right?

"Turn around," She punctuated that with a slow twirling of her index finger.

I did as she asked, turning around to give her a show of what I had on, while silently praying to God that she would approve of it. If she could approve of It, then Kizito will definitely like it on me. So, I slowly twirled around, adding extra effort and grace to my spin.

"Stop," She held her hand up and I paused, now back to facing her. She gave me another scrutinizing once-over, tapping her index to her chin.

I plea the blood of Jesus all over my body. I quickly chanted within myself.

"You altered your school uniform," She stated the obvious, but I still nodded nonetheless. "It's about damn time," She added, much to my surprise.

She likes it. My mind decoded immediately, and my lips stretched in a big smile.

She fücking likes it!

"Really?" I was grinning big now, unperturbed by the lack of expression on my mother's face as she stared back at me. "Thank you, mother. I actually styled them myself and-"

"You are talking too much," She cut me off and I paused my lips, nodding my head in response. I didn't care about that. She liked my outfit and that was all that mattered to me right now.

"Sheba," She called to her assistant, breaking eye contact with me for the slightest second. "Tape rule," She ordered in the calmest voice, holding her hand out as Sheba wordlessly speed-walked to where she was and dropped the folded roll of tape rule on her opened palm.

If I didn't know better, I would have been wondering what the tape rule was for. But I knew better. I knew exactly what the tape rule was for even though it's been a while since it was used on me.

Moment of truth.

"Come," Mother beckoned to me and I walked up to her, till I was standing right in front of her.

She took her sweet time unrolling the tape rule, her eyes trailing down from my head, to my chest, till it landed on my bare tummy. I could feel the heat of her gaze right there and I gulped. She stared at it for a good second before she looked back up and stared into my eyes.

She was looking for belly bumps, no matter how small. If she was shocked she didn't find any like she always did, she didn't show it.

When the tape was loose, she didn't have to tell me before I held both of my hands up, spreading them horizontally on either side of me. Mother wrapped the tape rule around my waist, reducing the width of the circle around my waist till it was tight against my skin.

She kept tightening it, and tightening it till I had a difficult time breathing. And because of the lack of food in my system, I just might collapse any second. But I didn't dare say anything, especially when her face had already scrunched up in a small, yet grossly unimpressed frown.

"Twenty-four inches," She said out loud and I was surprised at that revelation.

The last time I checked my waist size with my own tape rule, it was twenty-eight inches. If I had checked this morning, especially with the way I looked, I would have entered a close thirty-two inches. Twenty-four was a big progress. Besides, the fact that I was able to burn that many calories in a space of minutes almost made me smile.

Almost, because my mother wasn't smiling, meaning she wasn't as impressed as I was. And that was enough to douse every single feeling of pride I've had since morning.

"No, don't write that down," She wagged her finger at Sheba who had attempted writing it down. "She should be a good eighteen inches by the time we are signing that endorsement deal with Amy's Corsetry but we don't have enough time to achieve that since we signing this weekend," She said to her assistant.

Eighteen Inches by this weekend! You might as well remove my ribs.

But of course, I didn't say that out loud. When it's not like I have a death wish or something. I just remained immobile, with my hands still stretched out painfully to either of my sides. The tape rule was still wrapped around my waist, folding my tummy in a tight hold, cutting my airwaves.

I didn't dare complain. Especially since it was all for my own good.

"I have to cut down your meals again," Mother continued. It sounded like she was speaking more to herself than to me even though she was referring to me. What she even said got me thinking

I wasn't sure what she wanted to cut my meals to again. It was basically nonexistent, safe for the fruits. Except she wants to take away the fruits and vegetables completely and place me on a strict only water diet. I won't even be surprised if that happened. Besides, it won't really move me, given that I had a secret stash of goodies somewhere in my closet.

Again, thank heaven for the laxatives.

Mother loosened the tape rule around me and I was finally able to breathe properly. She rolled it back and stretched it out to Sheba who came to take it from her. She straightened up and looked at me again.

"Sheba, get Iris a size four waist trainer from Deshapeables," She ordered while keeping her gaze on me. Immediately, Sheba picked up her phone and started making calls to place the order while Mother continued speaking to me.

"You will come home straight after school every single day of this week to the gym and you'll use the waist trainer to train. We need your waist snatched by the end of the week so that Amy's Corsetry will see that you are serious about joining them," She rapped on, repeating things I already knew I was supposed to do by heart.

Still, I nodded.

"Yes mother," I answered respectfully.

She didn't say any more, because her instructions were loud and clear and Natasha Malik does not repeat herself. All she did was bring her hands to my shirt, and I tried not to flinch as she adjusted the collar of my shirt.

Then she did something unexpected.

She flicked open the first two buttons of my shirt, exposing a bit of my chest. Then, she placed both of her hands under my bust and pushed up, exposing a tiny bit of my cleavage. I just stood still as she did all of that, my eyes widening slightly.

What the... I was so confused.

"If you are trying to be sexy, go all out and be sexy," Her words shocked me to my core, but I tried not to show it.

"I didn't raise you to be substandard, Iris. I raised you to be an icon," She continued like she never stopped, my middle name rolling off her tongue swiftly. "You don't have any distinct physical feature, so you have to make do with the little you have and confidently own it.–

The industry is not a good place for people that don't have confidence in their body, so even if you don't have it, you fake it," She stated pointedly, and all I could do was nod my head, taking in everything she was saying hook, line, and sinker.

This was something I knew by myself, something I have learned in just four years of being in the entertainment and modeling industry. I didn't need anyone to teach me before I understood the organogram of the industry. It was very easy to adjust to as well because I was being trained that way since I was a kid.

It was almost like my mother has been preparing me to be a model since the day I was born.

It's such an Irony that this was the exact thing I was trying to make Dawn understand, yet she almost wrung my head off. Right now, I don't even blame her again. It's because she doesn't know what it's like to be famous like me. Small fame that she got, she was getting worked up over it.

She will get it when she eventually gets to my level.

"This is a build-up to what might be the biggest night of your career yet," Mother said to me, and I knew she was talking about the Fashion Show.

"Everything needs to go perfectly. That night has to go perfectly. You know what that means right?" It was a rhetorical question, but I nodded nonetheless.

I knew exactly what that meant. It meant, in the simplest of terms, that I had to be flawless from this day forward.

Completely and Utterly flawless.

I won't allow any lapses, Iris," Her voice was calm but threatening. Very threatening. "If I sense anything that might jeopardize it, even in the tiniest bit, I'm going to crush it with my bare hands," She continued, threats rolling off her tongue like normal words.

I just kept nodding.

"I'm not going to allow you to ruin everything I have worked for, everything I have sacrificed just to give you a life." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good." She flashed me a tight-lipped smile. "Now get out. You are already late for school."

𝐀/𝐍

God forbid this kind of toxic relationship Semeeha has with her mother, because on G, I'd have ran mad 💀.

In fact, I think we have to remind that woman that her daughter is going to school and not to a club, because this one that she's pushing Semeeha's boobs out and telling her to go all out in looking sexy. Tufiakwa💔.

When I was reading through the Semeeha-Natasha interaction, I got mental image of how Natasha Malik looks like. Getting a faceclaim to put to that name wasn't hard at all because Nse-Ikpe Etim fits perfectly to the role.

(Natasha Malik serving looks🔥🥵)

Semeeha is harming herself though. Taking laxatives to induce vomiting so that she can throw up everything she has eaten💔. God have mercy🤧. I just really hope she realizes the kind of damage she's doing to her body before it's too late.

For those that guessed in the last chapter that Semeeha is perhaps trying to look like Gigi, you were right. She is very particular and intentionally about it sef. When I said she's doing the lord's work, you people wanted to enter me 😂. Baby girl is doing the lord's word diligently, but I cannot be my Almighty God sha.

Let's wait and see if it's going to affect Kizito like she thinks it will.

Till next time, you know the drill. Kisses 😘