ACT 1

SINS & SHOPPING BLUES

VOTE & COMMENT!

*One of the people in the following chapter is dead, but for now in this story they are alive. I also disclaim what his personality is like, so I again apoligise if I don't get it right.

A usual Sunday morning was made up of a few things, prayer in the morning to whatever religion or philosophy they worshipped -Christianity served in the small chapel near the new courtyard where a high priest or bishop flew in from either Rome or Florence mainly due to most families reigning from European related families. Whilst for those who prayed a different religion -in this case, Adya who prayed to her Indian deity/ies. Then followed by breakfast then chatter, library, equestrian or croquet for the early hours of before ten thirty, students either ventured outwards or stayed within school grounds where lunch would be served at twelve-thirty.

The rows of students standing up as they were sandwiched between African Blackwood benches that were dexterously crafted from pulchritudinous carved grapes that slept on an angle of the swirls that formed the armrests of the seats.

As Talia with a pearl rosary woven in and out of her fingers, the string and white pearls that connected to the turquoise cross at the end dangling on the back of her hand. Opening her eyes instinctively as she pushed up her golden glasses and adverted her head to a daydreaming Gianna who was staring languorously at the glass stained window, pouring its aurora-like light onto some of the students at the other end of the room.

Sighing, the brunette had twisted her head to the other side only met a glaring Talia.

Sugar Honey Ice Tea.

"We're in the house of God Gigi," she admonished as she faced the priest starting to sing a hymn as she Gianna exasperated, only result in a sharp pain on her left foot caused by her friend stepping on it.

"Ow!" she brusquely cried in a hushed tone, not wanting to direct the unnecessary attention, "What was that for?"

"As I said, we are in the house of God. God is with us, please don't disrespect," she replied in a matter of fact tone.

"How can Cheesus and God be in every church or bloody anywhere people pray these days," she muttered.

"Don't mock the Lord's son name. It's Jesus, you should be grateful."

"You're like middle age nun," she retorted.

"Huh, a married one," Talia remarked as she watched the priest signal to sit.

"Why do we do this if we've all made sins?"

"Cause the Lord is merciful," she simply answered.

"Yeah but I'm sure someone, as entitled as the priest, has made sins,"

"Before his priesthood perhaps, but it is the rest of his journey and the choices he makes God judges," as Gianna rolled her eyes.

"What about you, you did it with Mikhail right?"

"So, what about it?"

"Well you did it, and you act as if you're so holy-,"

"Before you challenge me, Gigi," Talia sighed boredly as she pushed up her glasses, "May I remind you to watch what you're saying. One I'm technically married to him, two it is out of love, not lust, three you believe I purposely act so holy but did I make either indirectly or directly that I am so perfect or holy as you put it?" she questioned at her egoistic friend who was biting her cheek in defeat.

"For someone who acts-, does such sins and I do not question or backstab you in front of your parents?" Talia continued as they started to listen to the homily spoken by the priest.

"Why do you enjoy this?"

"It's something I would do devotedly, but I believe it is good to give thanks every once in a while. The privilege we've been born into must not be mistaken by luck," Talia dexterously riposted that quickly made Gianna turn silent as Talia followed the screen as they read a loud reply highlighted in blue.

Why did she have to be so good with words, sometimes I think she's better Mikhail.

"Why-,"

"Why don't you shut up?" Talia interjected as the brown-eyed brunette huffed.

---

After breakfast, Talia strode off to her other source of escape. The stables. As Talia opted in for a white riding shirt that was huddled tightly to her figure by the single-breasted vest that was made so masculine but like many only found it outrageously perfect, with the deep cut that brilliantly drew everyone's attention from her shoulders and resulted in this elegantly cut figure.

Walking to the stables trying to find her Arabian black beauty she finally found her beloved Posideon at the end of the hallway in distress as a caretaker tried to calm him down.

"Down boy," she said in Arabic rushing to him as she handled the leash and hushed him.

"Come here," she hushed as he calmed down a little as he nudged his master and she stroked his head and sang something in Arabic that calmed him.

Talia's horse was an Arabian, they were known for their intelligence, agility, sensitiveness and stubbornness. As a young kid Talia wishing to ride received her horse at the age of nine, a bunch of young horses were placed on the grounds as Talia stood. Many horses approached her taking a liking to her though she saw the young Posideon in the corner, the brilliant black diamond in the rough. She reminisced about the person saying not to go near him as his wildness and stubbornness wasn't something that couldn't be tamed. But, the curious Talia just had to approach the obsidian beast as ferociously went on its hind legs and Talia falling to the ground scared but she reached her hand out closing her eyes. The black horse then slowly put its head on her hand cautiously and nudged her with his head. She remembered her laughing as she petted the horse and attempted to ride it.

Naming it Posideon also known as the god of horses, the sea and earthquakes in mythology. Like the water, it could be calm and beautiful but also can rage into monstrous waves consuming unlucky sailors. Posideon only let Talia only ride him or else he would break loose and realise his monstrosity.

"Let's go for a ride, hm?" she smiled at her horse who stood silent as he waited for his master to open the gate. She guided him outside, putting on her helmet and got on him from her right.

"Ya!" she said as Posideon neighed and burst out the gates like a speeding bullet. Talia smiling putting out her hands as her hair flowed behind carried by the wind she smelt the odour of pine cones and wet grass grasps her; something she pleasured, the adrenaline, the rush everything of riding. Her jade eyes landed on the approaching the revered woods of the campus, that mainly divided the island.

Laughing, they jumped over from curved wood claws to ducking under trees irregular arms. The tall imitating giants welcoming the familiar rider into its playground. After she and Posideon danced their way through the woods they had stopped at her usual spot where Posideon would rest lying down or walked around whilst the rider herself would languorously sprawl on a blanket and take her usual nap.

"Just stay here, aye, Posideon?" Talia yawned as she plugged her air pods into her ears.

As Talia's vision of the dominant skies of grey fluffy clouds soon blended into a blur, her beguiling jade orbs closing as a disturbing buzz started to vibrate.

Godammit! Talia seethed in her head as she looked at the phone to see the ID caller being Gigi.

"What do you want?" she sighed.

"I feel loved," Gianna chuckled from the other side of the call, "Anywho, its a Sunday are you doing anything?"

"Yes,"

"Really, doing what?" Gianna asked curiously.

"Napping," Talia simply replied as her friend sighed.

"That's nothing,"

"No, no it isn't, there's a difference. Nothing is doing nothing, napping is closing my eyes, and breathing and trying to relax, there's a difference," Talia retorted as Gianna only could smile in her reply.

"Come on Tala, I wanna shop in Paris. I wanna try this new cappuccino at this food truck thingy that's been all the crave. You can stroll in and look around John-Luc's hotel boutique thingy while I'm at it," the Italian brunette insisted.

"I don't think anyone can just waltz into the private boutique, it takes centuries to even get in" Talia teased. "Even W&As parents can't get in unless they pay... and their usual customers."

"Come on, even and you can get away with it. You don't have to dress fancy or whatever. Please! I don't want to go alone! Mills is already going for another fitting for her birthday," Gianna begged through the phone.

Talia looked at her horse who only flicked its tail as she exasperated, "fine... you owe me!" she got up.

---

Gianna skimmed from bottom to top at Talia's outfit as wordlessly. The female friend who had caught on with her eyes analysis only glared as they got off the private jet.

"What?" Talia inquired.

"You could have worn a blouse," Gianna expressed as Talia only rolled her eyes. The girl was dressed so plainly as she wore some no-name cotton green jacket, black Lora Jean tracksuit pants and tan UGG boots, compared to Gianna who wore a strapless blouse she recounted from buying it at a charity store with Talia, a leather jacket from Zara, and checkered cigarette pants from Celine.

"You said I could wear whatever," Talia argued.

"Yeah but-, but were in Paris... its Fashion capital," Gianna gestured to the city in the background that peaked over the runway.

"Fashion capital that's current trend is now I believe to promote natural beauty. That is how it stays on top," Talia winked as she put on her hoodie. "And besides, I like my boots, they're comfy!"

---

Talia's classmate's hotel was one set in the heart of the city, one of the few historic buildings that were set back to the time to the mid seventeen hundreds, and one of the three places that Hautre Coutre was born -to which only a few families and top-tiered designers only new of.

The building now turned into a fashion accommodation was a private hotel and boutique that few could enter. Customers would have to book and pay a twenty thousand pound fee to enter, with designers, fashion legends and of course the secret milieu families to stay at.

"Oh look at that piece, isn't marvellous!" The beautifully bronzed half french, half American pointed at wonder at.

Her friend, Dominque Lanhaster nodded in approval as they stared at the piece on display from the boutique. The manager, Eloise smiled tiredly at the two women. The two regulars, Lillith von Huxely wife to Gerald von Huxley, and billionaire housewife Dominique Lanhaster could always be found either at the front covers of the latest gossip article or new headline, gala, shopping anywhere they desired, or here.

Eloise looked at the new season dress as she analysed from before within a nanosecond whether the piece would good looking or not. Obviously, it wouldn't, yes from the average eye it would look opulent on the beautiful hourglass heiress but to a sophisticated eye the dress was meant to be fitted for an upside-down triangle figure, the tulle on that was beautifully done was supposed to complement one's shoulders. Alas, now it was all about the price or who big name designed it.

Eloise had worked at the place for a rocketing twenty-two years, enjoying it when only the few who truly understood fashion and what designers were the originals, old name designers, the private experience, the people who understood the older the better instead of the latest the better. But yet, the private experience, from the small things to the most exclusive were all crashed down when fifteen years ago the New York elite, the American or the new money or second-generation elite had ruined it all.

All starting with that live television show of the richest American show Wealth and All of the New York elite. Along with Lillith and her generation, live television and media had bombarded their lives to give a scoop inside the lives of the wealthy. Wentworth, the once sophisticated academy had turned into another battleground of the best of the best.

Ever since Lillith and clique at the time had bent the rules for the show of wearing short skirts, not registered uniforms and clothing, the school's income had blasted through the roof and eased the restrictions. The top dogs of the school's generation now allowed to diss teachers, respect declining poorly. Some schools followed, now only very few still enlisting the modern rules and uniform codes.

"I'll get it please, take my card dear. I'll get that bag too, by the counter, I haven't seen that in season yet as well," she smiled.

"Of course," Elosie smiled as she mentally rolled her eyes as she typed the price into the register and swiped it, the same way she had done it multiple times.

About to notify the staff to pack the usual size for her customer, the phone had brusquely buzzed as Eloise picked it up.

"Hello, how can I help you?" she said in a polite tone.

"Elle! This is Ari! I just was about to switch places at the front desk and guess who just waltzed in?!" she exclaimed worryingly through the phone.

"Who?" Eloise asked concerned.

"TALIA FRICKIN KANDAMSKIYNOV! THAT'S WHO!" as panic vibrated in every single organ of her body.

"What?! Are-, I- I don't remember getting told she's coming! Oh my god, we've got to evacuate everyone in the building! We don't have the staff and seamstresses lined up for her at the entrance! Christian Lacroix just left! Oh my god, I need to call Virginie Viard pronto! Get every customer coming out now! We need a private fitting room-, I mean a whole floor ready for her now!" Elosie rambled as she quickly looked up to see Lillith and Dominque walking towards her as she quickly dialled the phone Virad.

Finally picking up her phone, downstairs in the warehouse-sized secret tailor room with Virginie overlooking the work her assistant rushingly burst through the busy jungle of workers with her phone buzzing in hand.

"Eloise is calling," she handed her the phone. Before the designer could even speak a word Eloise had alarmed through the phone: "Talia is here! She's here! Get our latest designs ready!"

Meanwhile whilst the diplomatic catastrophe was being deconstructed at a rapid pace, Talia had wondered innocently through the boutique as she skimmed through the immaculate clothes modelled graciously on mannequins with mid-class wear racked on separately.

The black-haired dressed in a Louis Vuitton blazer that was littered with the logo, so much so she was much like was walking bag. Gold jewellery that ranged from the new Cartier line to Gucci earrings were flexed were ever it could blind the hell out of people. Her gauche black leather hugging pants were cut out to display her perfect long legs that would have seemed godly to the average folk for a woman of her age but to this level of fashion, it was rather haggard that for one Eloise had to put up with everyone or twice a month. As she was about to fish out of her phone from her Gucci bag her jaw dropped as she shook her friend by the arm and pointed at Talia.

"Lills, who-, look at that!" She commented as Lillith could have sworn her eyes almost popped out.

"Oh my God, why is there a tourist in here? How the hell did this Chinese tourist walk in here, lord she's going to pay a hefty price. These insipid Chinese tourists, always bothering everyone. Photo, photo!" she mocked a heavy mandarin accent as her friend only laughed. "Come on, let's help her out." she pulled her friend towards Talia.

Talia, in the ambience of her serenity of inspecting a tulle gown she heard the footsteps of Gucci and Loubuiton pumps as she whipped around.

"We, just want you to know that, this." Lillith pointed around her, "Is ex-excluuusssivvvee. Alright? You. Not allowed here. Big money fine. You pay. A lot" she said slowly as if she didn't another English, to her unknown Talia could speak over ten languages and most flawlessly English.

Talia only blankly looked at them and said nothing. She could hear her American accent dancing like how blindly her ring was blinding Talia.

"Okay, let me try again." Lillith smiled, "(Chinese group, somewhere else. Your people elsewhere. Need Books to come here. Alright?)" Lillith had spoken in rough Mandarin.

"Before you insult me any further." Talia sighed pushing up her glasses as the two women were shocked by her perfect English, "I can understand English, I think you mean booking, not books. And I don't need to pay to get in here, but thank you for the warning," Talia had spoken in such a honeyed tone that the two ladies didn't know whether it was an actual insult or a simple statement of gratitude.

Before the two ladies could speak another word Eloise had coughed to draw their attention as not only her but none other than Virginie Viard was standing next to her, not that two ladies knew of her.

"I'm so sorry ladies, but I along with the other customers have to excuse you from the boutique. We apologise greatly but there has been an urgent matter. For our apologies, we would like to give you a thirty per cent discount on your items that will be imminently sent to your hotels with the utmost of care and security," the woman bowed as the women had risen in fury.

"Excuse me?" Lillith scoffed.

"I'm not even done looking yet!" Dominique fumed.

"I, again, apologise but like I said earlier everyone else is being excused from the boutique," she reasoned in a delicate tone.

"I have you know that we're not everyone else! May I remind you who I am, what family I born into, and who I'm married to who is the most powerful man in the world! I'll have you know that I will bring this place to its knees!" she sweetly threatened as Elosie wasn't nor shed the slightest bit threatened.

Just kill her with kindness. "I, again, apologise. You are one of most beloved regulars," more like desperate who doesn't understand the slightest thing about fashion! "But there is a special person coming in without notice. Please may I personally escort you out-, with macaroons, complimentary apologies of course!"

"This is outrageous! I can pay double for all of this, this building, everything!" Lillith chided.

I can assure you, you cannot. Not even at triple.

As the two moved towards the door, revealing Talia who was behind them Eloise had brightened and moved to her as did the planets circled towards the sun.

"Lady Talia! Oh goodness! What a lovely surprise!" she chirped brightly, finally someone who truly understands.

The two only found themselves in utterly mortified as Eloise had shown more joy as she to what they believed she saw them with utter love and devotion as did any other store they could walk into. And not only that but to this- this tourist. This ordinarily dressed young looking girl, no designer logo that could give them away what brand she was wearing.

"Eloise, Viard you didn't have to meet me like this. I was just simply browsing," she spoke.

"Nonsense, we have everything prepared! We have a room ready for you!" the manager always knew to say room instead of an entire floor, Talia would always feel awkward and flush in embarrassment. Hint it later when necessary.

"Yes, I have some designs that I was overlooking for Chanel next year. They're all prototypes! Not even Karl has seen it yet!" Virgard boasted.

Talia smiled as she nodded, not wanting to offend them though she would be sacrificing three hours or more worth of fittings and looking. With the French designer herself escorting her to the lobby where they would catch the private elevator downstairs, with Elosie about to escort the two American women out the hidden elevator opened to reveal none other than Karl Lagerfeld himself with his caretaker guarding her hands around him as if she was protecting the most precious thing on earth.

"Mr Langerfeld!" Eloise piped as the two women about to be pushed out the door couldn't believe their eyes then none other than the legendary designer and photographer had come down from his oasis on the top floor, but before they took another look the door was forcefully closed as Elosie then rushed to him.

"Sir! What are you doing here! Sir you should be in bed and overlooking for your last collection!" Eloise exclaimed worryingly as he only waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

"Nonsense, I must see Talia. Oh, Talia! There you are! Oh, you don't how boring it is in here. These dimwits think I'm going to be on my death bed any second!" he joked, his signature German, French and English accent was one of the many things Talia favoured about him, as he linked arms with the girl. "Come dear, I haven't seen you in years! I'm not going to make your wedding, oh I wish I could be there. Oh well, Virgard will just have to be my mortal eyes!"

As Talia could only chuckle in the man's rare humour. Eloise along with his caretaker could only remain like a bolt out of the blue as the almighty Karl Langerfeld -who was best known for the creative power behind the timeless fashion house Chanel- who was evidently about to pass away and was supposed to overlook his last collection had come down to escort Talia himself.

"Now Talia," he said as they were going down the elevator with Virgard and his caretaker, "I didn't expect to see you so soon nor did I think I would get the chance to see you later on. But as a gift for you-,"

"Oh, Karl-,"

"Nonsense. Let a dying man finish," as Talia shut up, "Don't tell anyone, actually, I don't care if you do I'll be dead-, but you are my favourite person, muse even. I must say your beauty is timeless. Its true, out of the damn decades I've lived you have been my favourite client. You are one of the few people who get my fashion, and my only wish for you is to continue your sense of style, I remember when you first attended of my shows in here I think when you were ten, I remember your face how it lit up and how you talked about the clothes and your snarky remark to what I said about something. So I've organised as a side project from over the years, I've created this special line for you, inspired by every single era, year or design you've liked."

"Karl-, I-" Talia speechlessly said as she was on the brink of tears.

"It's the best I can do, If it wasn't for your family back in the 60s, I wouldn't haven't landed my job. I wouldn't be here. You remind much of your grandmother-, your Ah Ma. She was such a fan of my work and even sponsored me partly through, and you look so much her in a way. You've got her face I think, and hair."

"Karl, I really-,"

"Please, you really think I'll die knowing that you have to dress in stuff in stuff not overlooked by me," he scoffed as Virgard only rolled her eyes.

________

One of the things that truly sets everyone apart from the rich to the secretive bunch

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VOTE & COMMENT!