The Price Of Success (Fighting For Fireworks)

by Lee, Corri

  The first set- sloth- was tucked away in a room on the opposite side of the fireplace. The entire area was filled with a large bed covered in white silk sheets. Bethany and Lobke threw red rose petals over me as Cornelia furiously snapped away at me sprawling out across the bed, appropriately covered by hair extensions and silken folds. It was clear that she was breaking me in gently- casting sultry glances down the lens of a camera was too easy, it came too naturally.

  Greed and gluttony were simply a case of rolling around in food and wealth- simple tasks and a hell of a lot of fun. I was shining and dripping with wine before I was glittering and dripping with gold- my lips caressed all manner of forbidden foods before my tongue slid across expensive jewels. I was just about getting into the swing of indulgence when I noticed Bethany slink away into the entrance hall and the temperature of the room drop, distracting me from my glorious bask under the harsh artificial lighting.

  “Please tell me Nathaniel hasn’t just walked in.” A veil of silence cast over the room and Cornelia lowered her camera with a frown. That seemed like confirmation enough.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I-…” I sighed and shook my head. The more I explained myself, the more stupid I sounded. Of course, he wasn’t there- Lobke was here. He didn’t strike me as the type to drive himself anywhere, it would have subtracted valuable minutes from his time spent revelling in being almost illegally attractive and stinking rich. “Doesn’t matter.” I swallowed down my paranoia and forced a smile. “What next?”

  Cornelia glanced over her shoulder and pursed her lips. “Do you trust me?” I had never trusted a person who had asked me that question and it was obvious that she realised her mistake the moment she’d said it. “Let’s get you into the confessional and introduce you to your male model.” I rubbed my hands together in excitement, desperately trying to dismiss the feeling that he was there. There was never quite such an effective deterrent as the idea of getting visually intimate with a man who made a career from standing in his underwear.

  I sat in the confessional for a moment with makeup artists retouching my image before the curtain of adjoining chamber flapped open and a broad topless figure lowered itself down onto the bench. With his face currently obscured, I let my imagination run wild with what lay beyond those Levi jeans that skimmed his hips and hinted at the tight black briefs that sat beneath. Cornelia winked at me and crouched down on one knee, focusing on the latticed division between me and the mystery male.

  “Don’t be afraid to show real emotion right now, Cecelia- he’s going to rile you up and I want to see you getting antsy.”

  My face dropped. “Pardon me?” It sounded dangerously like I was about to get lured into a round of verbal foreplay.

  “Hello, cherry bomb.” My head spun around to the division and I squinted to look through the small diamond shaped holes that separated us. That endearment and brutal accent were the only two clues I needed to correctly identify my plaything. “Ready, Corny?”

  “Don’t call me that. Go for it.” I stammered as Isaac’s voice began to purr at me.

  “Don’t talk, just listen.” My ears pricked at his goading whisper. “You’ve committed some pretty atrocious sins this weekend, haven’t you? Betraying your lover by falling in love with another man who, in turn, loves another. That must be pretty hard to accept- that he’ll never love you. “ My stomach knotted and that familiar clench of anxiety strangled my heart. The taunt was harsh and flattened me like an acme anvil. “And then you told so many lies to so many people, and then you lied for others. Did you like the power it gave you? Did you enjoy the way they believed you without question?”

  “Pick it up, Isaac.” My gaze flicked to Cornelia, panicked. How could he possibly intensify this aural battery?

  “Now you’re going to add to your list of sins by getting hot and heavy with me in front of a camera. The twin of the man you’ve lied for- the closest you’ll ever get to him now. We’re basically anatomically identical, Cecelia, just our faces differ. We share the same blood and the same genes. If I kissed you, you’d be kissing him…” My teeth clamped down on my lips and my legs crossed as I felt desire begin to build deep down between my thighs. It was a volatile reaction I hadn’t expected- a rampant ache of arousal at the suggestion of a nearly identical substitute, almost a clone. “… if I touched you, that’s what it’d feel like if he did it. Just thinking about it makes you want him, doesn’t it? I only have to talk about it and it makes you want to come.” My back hunched slightly as I battled to keep control of myself. The throbbing grew so strong that will alone was barely enough to pacify me. “If I can do that to you just with words, imagine what I could to do you on that bed back there. You’re already naked, that’s so easy. He’s not here, there’s no hands-off rule today. I could show you exactly what it would feel like if he was inside you. Everyone could disappear and you could tear me to pieces. Nobody need ever know- you could get it all out of your system.”

  “Move it.” My teeth realised my lip as Cornelia backed away from the booth and Isaac flew around to me, sweeping me up in his arms and hurtling across to the room where we’d shot sloth. My back hit the sheets and he towered over me, arms trapping mine and hips pinning me down.

  “Come on, Cecelia, show me what you’d do to him.” I struggled to move, blinded by the haze of blood rushing around my body. “Can’t you move? Do you want me to let your arms go so you can rake your fingers across my back and make believe it’s Nathaniel?”

  “Yes, god damn it!” I screamed in his face, unsuccessfully trying to buck him off. “Show me what I can’t have. Give me a rope to fucking hang myself with!”

  “Make this quick, Isaac, don’t drag it out.” Cornelia’s disembodied voice hung over me as a brutal reminder of reality- this was being photographed. Whatever I did to Isaac could end up subject to media scrutiny and cause a whole new outbreak of speculation. But he continued to tease.

  “I’ll make it real fast, don’t you worry.” Isaac’s hand cupped my face, releasing my arm, and he ran a thumb over my lip. “You can see his face in mine, can’t you? You want him so badly that you see nothing but his face everywhere you turn. I’m going to do to you what your boyfriend can’t, Cecelia. I’m going to make you come loudly and violently so everyone can hear outside. And I’ll do it with words because you’re so crazy about Nathaniel…” his face dipped down to my neck, “… that I don’t even have to get inside you.” He nipped at my neck with his teeth before sucking gently. My hands clamped down at my sides and tore at the silk as my body clenched into an intense and relentless orgasm. A loud crackle of applause erupted outside at my agonised cry of relief before my face twisted and I began to sob.

  It had been the single most mortifying and embarrassing moment of weakness that I’d ever fallen into. To scream out how strongly I felt while Isaac pinned me down and taunted me- he knew exactly what to say to drag me into shame. I’d been exploited for the sake of a pretty picture.

  I pushed him away from me and sought refuge in the room opposite where I had been moulded into an exhibitionist. I propelled my fury into anything I could find- I punched cupboards, threw chairs, kicked cabinets. Tell-tale flashes revealed that I was performing purely to adhere with the need for pictures of ‘wrath’. The pain I felt with each blow meant nothing, it paled in significance to the hurt I felt for knowing that the people around me found my feelings so amusing.

  The final blow came at the cost of a mirror that shattered and ripped my knuckles apart with its splinters. Cornelia rushed in and threw her arms around me, preventing me from causing any further damage to the furnishings or myself. “Cecelia, stop! I’m sorry.” I shrugged her off and collapsed to my knees, burying my head in my hands, blood running down the length of my arm. “I promise you, there was nothing selfish or malicious about what I just did. When you’ve calmed down, you’re going to feel a hell of a lot better for falling to pieces.”

  And she was right. My knuckl
es soon stopping bleeding and my usual sense of ease with the world slowly began to return. It didn’t matter that I loved somebody who couldn’t love me in return because there was no likelihood of my dream coming true. With the fact accepted, I could heal from that heartache the same way I could heal from finding out that there was no Santa.

  Isaac waved at me cheekily as Cornelia took a few shots of me kneeling in the pews and lingered just close enough to be in earshot. “I would have loved to have made something of that.”

  “There’s still time.” I pouted suggestively and spread my arms out across the seat of the pew behind me, pushing my bare breasts out for his unhampered visual enjoyment.

  He shook his head and waved a hand towards a scene set up to resemble The Last Supper. “I do actually still have orders not to touch you, and even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t. ‘Give me a fucking rope to hang myself with’ is a pretty harrowing sentiment and I don’t want to push you into anything irrational.” My face flushed crimson with the reminder of my outburst. I couldn’t imagine that were would be anything more of a passion killer than being told that your touch might provoke suicide. I’d been out of my mind when I’d said it, but the words were hardly open to interpretation. “But you can keep that greedy mouth hungry for me while you watch me wrap myself around your sexy blonde friend.”

  “Bethany?” I looked up just in time to see her wandering out across the room in a tightly knotted bustier looking hotter than hell in smoky eyes and killer heels. Of course there was no better choice for the object of my envy, considering she had been the original motivation. “She has a boyfriend.”

  “So do you.” I firmly buttoned my lips and flared my nostrils with contrition. I was disgraced by how frequently I forgot that I was essentially betrothed in the company of attractive men. I needed a complete psychological overhaul and I had every intention of starting that process with Cole that evening.

  Envy was incredibly good fun- Bethany and I threw playful snipes at each other across the table while I poured ‘poison’ into a goblet and extended it to her. Her insults were weak in light of the man pawing at her assets and teasing her with light licks across her flesh. Had I not recently had my sexual frustration eased with a mind-blowing climax sealed with the brief contact of Isaac’s lips, I probably would have been trying to join in. I felt like I was watching a soft-core pornographic parody of Mary Magdalene and John the Evangelist getting to know each other ‘in the Biblical sense’ and it was seriously blasphemous and sexy as sin.

  All that was left was pride. I was required to do nothing but lean against a wall while Cornelia photographed my silhouette from behind, partially reflected by a mirror in front of me- something of an anti-climax in comparison to the rest of the day.

  “Jesus, is that what you look like from behind?” My blood froze in my veins. I looked over my shoulder slowly, jaw clenching when my eyes fell on Nathaniel. I was right, he was here, but did that mean he’d heard everything? Where the hell had he hidden? Cornelia caught my gaze and shook her head seemingly dismissing my concerns. Was my expression really so readable by everyone? What else had I unintentionally revealed about myself with the smallest of smiles or slowest of blinks?

  My muscles relaxed and I wriggled back into my senses. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Nathaniel?”

  “I was quite hoping to see the preview, that’s all. It appears I walked in on something much better.” I narrowed my eyes speculatively and blew a lock of hair from my face. I was determined not to let his presence affect me.

  The hair stylist gently stripped the extensions from my hair, providing much needed relief from persistent itching, while Lobke set coffee down for all of us. There were not one, but three billionaires sitting in my lounge and bizarrely, I was none too fazed. This had become normality- in just sixteen days, I had gone from rags to riches by way of my appearance and would soon undoubtedly be rubbing shoulders with Britain’s biggest celebrities. The Alexander’s had really put themselves out to ensure my success, and if I didn’t achieve fame and fortune through writing, I would surely achieve it through media exposure. As much as I hated being in the limelight, I had to accept that it was going to be inevitable and force myself to adjust.

  Cornelia fiddled with her camera, connecting it to the television so we could view the photographs from the comfort of my home rather than from the rigid wooden pews. “Who owns the Atari?” I raised a hand reluctantly. The console I had painstakingly reconnected two Friday’s previous was, as yet, unused. Just one of the pastimes that had gone neglected since Nathaniel began mentoring me.

  “I have to confess to being a bit of a geek,” I said quietly, “I wasted months of my life playing Frogger until I went cross-eyed in university.” Not that all the drugs and alcohol had done much for my vision.

  “So did Nate.” All eyes fell on Nathaniel and I for a moment before Cornelia announced, “right, we’re ready to rock and roll!” and the clamour of excitement and anticipation rose. I deeply resented the overreaction around one simple similarity- we breathed the same air but nobody kicked up a stink over that.

  The images from the camera flicked up on the television in chronological order. I was surrounded by a buzz of admiration and stormed by compliments, but I remained silent. I didn’t recognise that dark haired and deeply sensual siren who stared back at me with silver eyes that surely matched her silver tongue. She was beautiful and carefree- I wasn’t.

  Cornelia paused to analyse my blank expression when the pictures of lust appeared on the screen. I shook my head at that woman rapt in passion and struggled to tear my eyes away. “Have these been airbrushed already?”

  Her forehead creased. “No, that’s all you.”

  “That’s not me.” All five of the bodies in the room shifted towards me in silence. “It’s not! That girl is a straight up white hot minx, and I’m-…”

  “A straight up white hot minx.” Bethany curled her arms around my shoulders from behind and laid a large wet kiss on my cheek. “You look like that every day, Cici, you’re just blind to it. Everyone else sees it this way, even when you look like shit in torn jeans and smelly skater shoes. I’ve been trying to tell you for years but apparently what I was missing was three billionaires.”

  “I’m getting this one put on canvas as a permanent reminder of the power of speech.” Isaac nodded to the image of me writhing underneath him and licked his lips indiscreetly.

  Nathaniel clipped him around the head with his palm and scowled. “The hell you are.” His expression darkened sinisterly, noticeable enough for Cornelia’s jaw to drop. I was clearly missing something- an argument, a sibling feud, a lovers tiff? Oh crap, he knows. I shuffled to sit right against the arm of the couch, praying that the next five days wouldn’t be awkward. “Moving on.”

  The viewing hastily progressed, faster than before as though Cornelia was keen to terminate the experience as quickly as possible before Nathaniel burst into a flaming inferno of fury. His temper was confounding and terrifying- that I could affect him so adversely by having fallen for him was the perfect reason to cut him off after Friday.

  The images stilled at the final picture of my naked silhouette. The image was powerful- a perfect portrayal of my now proud image. I was a fully-fledged woman of sin and somehow the concept was none too distressing. I was eager to see my body spread across the sides of buses and billboards, available for women to envy and men to ache for. These pictures weren’t just for promoting my novel- they promoted the complete Cecelia Douglas package. I couldn’t think of a single author who so aggressively advertised their works with their own visage, and if my doing so made me conceited, well that was just peachy.

  My time with Nathaniel had provoked some form of spiritual metamorphosis and I had unfurled from my cocoon with confidence and an iron will. His intention was to make me ready for the red carpet. Was I ready? No.

  The red carpet was ready for me.

  I set my cutlery down at twenty past four on my plate- a
lesson from my dinner etiquette lecture that had become habit. Rather than eat for free in his families’ bistro, Cole had opted to cook a beastly chicken lasagne in his Soho loft, and had waited for me to arrive so I could see him prepare the food in person, like he felt the need to prove that he hadn’t cut corners or cheated and ordered in. I watched as he prowled around his kitchen fluidly like every pan and utensil was an extension of his physical form. There was something surprisingly sexual about the way he moved, and the knowledge of what lay beyond the loose white linen shirt made me salivate more than the smell of his food.

  The meal was exquisite, of course. I should have known better than to doubt the culinary prowess of an Italian. If more had been on offer, I would have willingly accepted just on the basis of the rich flavours, despite being fit to burst at the seams.

  I leaned forward on the table and waited eagerly for his opinions on the photographs that Cornelia had kindly burnt to disc, claiming full bragging rights for being an amazing photographer. I was still waiting for a compliment.

  Cole wrinkled his nose contemplatively and removed the empty plate from in front of me, strolling over to the dishwasher a little too heavy footed. “They could have called me in for your ‘lust’ pictures. Who is that guy?” My shoulders tensed at his question. I knew that he wouldn’t react well to the news of my intimacy with Nathaniel’s twin.