by Tyra Banks
Ladonna moved very close to the two of them, trying to understand what was happening. She shook her head at Ray. “How. Could. You? And to my best friend! Cremalatta, I’m so sorry. You were right about him. I should have listened!”
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the front door. “Modelland security!” a voice boomed. “Open up!”
Everyone froze. Ladonna’s eyes widened. Wheeling around, she grabbed and shushed the baby and ducked into the bathroom. Seconds later, the guards broke down Ray Faye’s flimsy door. One guard strode straight to the bathroom and dragged Ladonna and the baby out of the shower stall. The other pinned Cremalatta’s arms behind her back.
“You two left Modelland without permission,” the head guard said gruffly to the women. “Usually, we just leave your decrepit, wrinkled faces to rot, but since you’re of royal descent, Ladonna, you must return to Modelland right now. All of you must. That means you too, sir.” He glanced at Ray Faye, who was still shirtless in the middle of the room. “You know it is forbidden for civilians to be involved with Bellas. A sick and punishable offense.”
“What about our faces?” Cremalatta touched her puckered skin. “What about turning them back, Ladonna?”
“I promised you I’d get us turned back, and I will,” she assured her friend.
Once again the group felt a pulling sensation, and Tookie, Ci~L, Creamy, the BellaDonna, and Persimmon were whipped into another flashback. This time, Ladonna and Cremalatta stood in the grand crystal hall of the Bored at Modelland. The Queen BellaDonna, Ladonna’s mother, stood and gravely shook her head. “You broke one rule too many, Ladonna,” she said. “And this time, it was the ultimate rule. This is unacceptable. But because of your royal blood, you have a choice. You can leave Modelland and be with Mr. Faye and your child, where you can live together as a loving family. But you will have to relinquish all Modelland privileges. Never become an Intoxibella. And never see me again. And your face will remain aged.”
Ladonna held her child tightly in her arms, her bottom lip trembling. Ray Faye shifted his weight behind her. He reached out to hold her hand, but Ladonna smacked him away. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
Ray threw up his hands. “Ladonna, sweetie, please give me a chance to expl—”
“Or,” the Queen BellaDonna went on, interrupting him, “you can stay here in Modelland, have your youth restored, and become one of the 7Seven tomorrow, an Intoxibella. But you will never see your Ray again. You also can never admit that this baby is yours. And you will never see the child again.”
“Never see my baby again?” Ladonna repeated, horrified. “Why can’t I have both?” she asked her mother. “Why can’t I have both my baby and my beauty?”
Her mother shook her head. “Those are the rules. Make. Your. Choice.”
Ladonna looked from the baby to Ray to her mother to Cremalatta. All sorts of conflicting emotions washed across her face. Finally, she sighed. “I’ve made my choice.” She slowly moved forward and handed the baby to her mother.
Tookie and Ci~L gasped. Ladonna’s face instantly returned to its youthful splendor. She looked even more striking than before, as if her choice to relinquish her baby was a sacrifice that enhanced her loveliness.
“I have one request,” Ladonna said, her eyes lowered. “I don’t want him to raise my baby.” She pointed at Ray. “If he does, he’ll raise a heartless child. Please, Mother. Please. Please. Please!”
“Very well then,” the Queen BellaDonna said. She turned to the guards. “Get him far away from here.”
Security guards rushed in and grabbed Ray. He struggled against them. “Get off of me! This is my child too! Please! Please! Don’t do this to me, Ladonna! My life will be over!”
The Queen BellaDonna just shrugged. “You heard Ladonna, the love of your life. The child does not belong to you anymore.”
Ray’s face crumpled. He planted his feet and fought to reach the tiny baby, but the guards dragged him away before he could give the child one last caress. His screams could be heard down the crystal corridor.
“What about me?” Cremalatta piped up.
The Queen BellaDonna gave her a cold, dark gaze. “What about you? Go away. And never come back here again. You are an awful influence on my daughter.”
Cremalatta blinked so hard that her eyes disappeared into a bevy of wrinkles. “But what about my youth? Ladonna, you promised you’d restore everything! That’s why I agreed to go down the mountain with you!”
“It’s true,” Ladonna said. She looked at her mother. “Please, Mother? Can you return her to—”
“No,” the Queen BellaDonna decreed. “And that is final.” She waved her hand, and security grabbed Cremalatta.
Cremalatta glowered at Ladonna. “You lying, selfish, royal bitch! You promised!” Then her face turned eerily calm. “Well, in that case, guess what, Princess? Ray didn’t wrong you—you wronged him. I jumped him. I have no idea how he could resist me, but he did. He was fighting me off … the whole time.”
Ladonna’s jaw dropped. Her eyes searched Cremalatta’s face. “But Cremalatta, you’re my best friend!”
Cremalatta shrugged. “I am. And best friends share … everything.”
Ladonna wheeled desperately toward the door of the grand hall. “Ray?” she screamed, her voice echoing. “Ray, baby! Are you still there?” There was no answer. Ladonna turned to her mother. “I’ve changed my mind! I want to be with him and my baby! I don’t care about being an Intoxibella or about my face!”
“You’ve already made your choice,” the Queen BellaDonna said stonily. “You should have had better judgment in choosing your friends.” She rose and handed the baby to a dead-eyed young Mannecant. “Seems the loyal one was the one you overlooked.”
Tookie looked at the Mannecant, suddenly recognizing her. Ladonna let out a gasp too. The Mannecant was a transformed Percy—Persimmon. The surface of her once-soft skin was now hardened plastic. Dark creases lined every joint of her body. Her energetic bright blue eyes had been replaced with black voids. Present-day Creamy shouted out to older Mannecant Persimmon, “Lord have mercy, Percy. That Queen bitch sure did curse thee!”
Ladonna sank to her knees in front of Percy. “Percy, please! Give my baby to me! You and I are best friends, remember?”
Percy just stared at Ladonna, her face betraying nothing.
“Oh, so now she’s your best friend?” the Queen BellaDonna said icily. “You should have stood up for her when you had the chance. It’s too late. Persimmon’s loyalty is to the BellaDonna throne now, Ladonna.”
Ladonna made a pained noise at the back of her throat and rushed for the baby, but her mother thrust out her arm to stop her. “You have made your choice, my dear. You will go on to be a famous Intoxibella. And one day, you will rule this Land and be feared and adored by everyone in the world. You will uphold the principles of Modelland and redefine the face of beauty every five years. You chose correctly, Ladonna. And I know I will not see it, but I look forward to the day when you will be called BellaDonna.”
“What about my eyesight?” Ladonna asked. “I can hardly see a thing!”
The Queen BellaDonna thought for a moment. “I think I’ll leave your sight as is, so you always remember what you’ve done. Your face as a future Intoxibella is for others to see and enjoy, after all—not you.”
“And what about my baby?” Ladonna screamed, pointing at her pale child. “What will happen?”
“Your baby will be safe,” her mother said vaguely. “But gone forever. You will never lay eyes on the child again.”
“Please!” Ladonna cried as Percy took the baby away. “Let me hold my baby one last time! Just one more kiss!”
“Oh, Ladonna, stop being so dramatic,” the Queen BellaDonna scolded.
Ladonna sank to her knees as Percy vanished down the long hallway with her child in her arms. “Give her back to me! Give me my … Ci~L!”
44
WICKED COUTURE
Ci~L stared at
the BellaDonna, the expression on her face a mixture of shock and terror. Her breath quickened into sharp, hyperventilating blasts. In, out. In, out. Her chest collapsed with each exhale as though an invisible assailant was stabbing her with a dagger.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Creamy gave Ci~L a predatory smile. “Ladonna—now the BellaDonna—is your mama. And she gave you up. Traded you like a baseball card. For face value. Listen to this: Ladonna sacrificed you, a tiny baby, for her own face, even though she can hardly see herself because of those nasty cataracts. Ya gotta love the irony.”
“But I have green eyes. That baby in the flashback had gray eyes,” Ci~L said dazedly.
“Your eyes turned green later,” the BellaDonna said in monotone, her gaze lowered to the floor. “A common occurrence with babies born with blue or gray eyes. Though I wasn’t there to see it happen.”
Ci~L’s nostrils flared. “Because you threw me away.”
The BellaDonna waved her hands helplessly. “Because Cremalatta tricked me!”
Creamy rolled her eyes. “Excuse me? What about how you ruined me, Ladonna? If it wasn’t for you, I would have never trekked down that damn mountain!”
“Oh really?” The BellaDonna whirled around to face her. “Even though you were my best friend, I always knew you were jealous. But now I know just how jealous. It wasn’t just that I was a royal, oh no. You couldn’t stand that I had something else you didn’t—love. But that’s because no one could ever love you, Cremalatta. Your heart is black inside. It’s a wonder you ever married—how did you convince someone to spend the rest of his life with you, with that nasty-ass face of yours? Is that why you carry around this pathetic doll? So you have total control over something, anything? So you have something to love you?” Then she snatched Bellissima from Creamy’s hands.
“Give her back!” Creamy screeched. She grabbed the BellaDonna’s shoulders, trying to shake Bellissima from her grasp. Clumps of dirt fell from Creamy and the doll to the pristine floor. When the BellaDonna shoved her away, Creamy kicked her in the chest with the soiled sole of her hiking boot. The BellaDonna staggered back, knocking over the Flashback Females.
Persimmon stepped between the warring women. “Cremalatta! Ladonna! Stop it!”
“This isn’t your concern, Percy!” Creamy shrieked, shoving Persimmon hard and sending her reeling into the far wall. Ci~L ran to Persimmon and helped her up.
Creamy lunged for the BellaDonna once more. Just as their bodies clashed, a piercing scream rang through the air. Bellissima flew across the room. Droplets of something landed on Tookie’s cheek. Then … dead silence.
Creamy and the BellaDonna huddled together for a moment, as though locked in an intimate embrace. But then Tookie saw a sharp, shiny metal object piercing her mother’s gut and protruding clear through her back. The two women were skewered together with a spike from the BellaDonna’s dress.
“Back together again,” Persimmon muttered from the sidelines, rubbing the lump on her head.
Tookie wiped the moisture that had splashed her face, then looked at her hand. It was smeared with red. Blood.
“Creamy!” she screamed.
Blood gushed from Creamy’s wound. The BellaDonna’s olive complexion had gone pale from shock. Creamy writhed desperately to free herself from the BellaDonna’s spike. Once she did, she spun around and staggered a few steps forward. Her eyes rolled back. Reddish froth spilled from her mouth. Blood trickled out of her nose. After a moment, she crumpled to the ground in a heap.
“Oh my God, Mommy!” Tookie tore across the floor, slid on the spilled blood, and dropped to her knees. “Oh, M-Mommy,” she whispered, cradling the woman’s head in her hands.
Creamy’s eyes fluttered open and locked with her daughter’s. “What did you just call me?”
“Mom—I mean, C-Creamy!” Tookie corrected herself.
Creamy nodded faintly, her face now ashen. Blood pulsed from her abdomen in time with the beat of her heart. Tookie could see her slipping away with each passing second. Creamy stared woozily at her daughter and then muttered, “Tookie …,” followed by something barely audible.
“Wh-what was that, Creamy?” Tookie asked gently, bringing her ear closer to her mother’s lips. All the negativity she’d felt about her mother was instantly replaced by a fervent, protective love. Creamy may not have been the best mom in the world, but she was all Tookie had. If these were Creamy’s last moments, Tookie wanted to be there for her. She wanted Creamy to know she loved her.
Creamy swallowed, as if mustering up her strength to utter her last words. Then, through cracked lips, she spoke:
“Tookie, get … me … my … Bellissima.”
45
LA CAMARA BRUTTA
Footsteps rang out in the hall. The heavy iron and concrete doors blocking off the Flashback room rose. Tookie thought it might be Myrracle, but Gunnero Narzz rushed in, followed by six Bestostero guards. “Cut the primping, BellaDonna. Your crowd has been sitting in their seats so long they’re starting to stink like last year’s trends.” He gestured to the stadium scene projected on the wall. The acrobats had wandered off, and the jungle cats had been stuffed back into their cages because they’d become too restless and violent to be loose.
And then he eyed the grisly scene: The dirty, bloodied woman on the floor. The pool of blood around her, getting larger by the second. The bloodied spikes on the BellaDonna’s gown. “What in knockoff handbag hell have you done?” he whispered to the BellaDonna, and pressed his long, slender fingers to his mouth.
A muscle twitched in the BellaDonna’s throat. “It was an accident,” she croaked helplessly.
“No it wasn’t,” a voice piped up. Everyone looked over. It was Persimmon. Her face hard. Cold. “I saw the whole thing,” the Mannecant said. “It was deliberate.”
“Persimmon!” the BellaDonna cried, her expression full of horror and betrayal. “You know that’s not true. Take it back now!”
Persimmon didn’t move. For a moment, her face flickered between pure hatred and undying loyalty, but it settled on resentment. You deserve it, her expression seemed to say. And then she turned and walked silently out of the room.
The BellaDonna gazed around frantically, searching for anyone who might back her up. Finally, her gaze landed on Tookie. “Tookie!” she screeched. “You saw everything. You know I didn’t mean to hurt your mother! Help me!”
A pang of guilt shot through Tookie. The BellaDonna had chosen Tookie to come to Modelland, after all. But Tookie knew it hadn’t been for the right reasons. She knew that danger still lurked somewhere. She just wasn’t sure where, or in what form. And honestly, Tookie couldn’t tell if the BellaDonna had meant to stab her mother or not. It all happened so fast. Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, BellaDonna. But you hurt my mother really badly. I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
“You can’t pin-tuck your way out of this one,” Gunnero giggled nastily. And then he dragged the screaming, writhing BellaDonna out of the room by her seven-inch stilettos.
Finally, three hours, thirty-seven minutes, and twenty-eight seconds after everyone had gathered in the stadium, Gunnero Narzz walked onto the stage, his face drawn and serious. He conferred with the Bored for a moment. Every Bored member gasped. The huddle broke, and Narzz approached the microphone. “May I have your attention?” his voice boomed.
The crowd immediately went silent and still. No one breathed.
Narzz cleared his throat. “While you all have been sitting here in your seats like unwanted hemp-sewn ecofashion on a biodegradable shelf, something tragic has happened here on Modelland grounds. You don’t deserve to know the details, but I will share with you one thing: the 7Seven Tournament is … postponed.”
The crowd gasped.
“Indefinitely.”
The upperclassBellas all screamed.
“And there will be no Day of Discovery discoveries tomorrow either,” Narzz went on, looking pained. “Modelland is shutting down until further noti
ce. Merci and sayonara. Danke and zài jiàn. Gracias and arrivederci.”
Oh, this was a heavy day, dahling. In the history of Modelland—in the history of the world, I daresay—this was one of the most disastrous, devastating, disheartening days ever. Monsieur Narzz’s message had reached everyone in the world at exactly the same time, the announcement flowing like lava down the mountain and incinerating everything in its wake. And dahling, the immediate effects of such a decree upon the world were, well, tragic.
Hospitals from Terra BossaNova to TooLip were flooded with victims who’d fainted from the hideous blow. Fashion designers fell into debilitating depressions, shocked that they would be given no new muses for inspiration. Some abandoned their showrooms. Others hurled themselves off their tall buildings in LaDorno, their bodies crashing to the street in front of tourists and children.
All of Metopia’s fashion factories shut down—there was no need to produce new wares, after all, with no hope of new Intoxibellas to display them. Sure, there were existing Intoxibellas who were more than capable of rocking new wares. But this is fashion, dahling. And fashion is obsessed with the nouveau. Factory workers spilled onto the streets, angry and aimless. Some looted stores, breaking glass and stealing purses, shoes, dresses, suits. But Factory Dependents reveled in the madness, breaking free of their semi-enslavement and adorning their malnourished bodies with the glamorous goods they were forced to produce. Hoodlums in NorDenSwee, Cappuccina, and Oktoober-fest defaced the Intoxibella billboards that rose high above city streets, covering them with the words Liars and Betrayers and IntoxiHellas. Sidewalks that read WHERE THE HELL IS Ci~L? WE NEED HER now bore the answer WHO THE HELL CARES! Rioters rushed the Sapphire Esplanade in LaDorno, grabbing perfume bottles and hurling them at one another like missiles. Vicious fights erupted in the mall corridors—people tore at one another’s clothes, gouged out eyeballs, and drowned one another in the fountains. Devastated girls dragged high, medium, and low fashions from the stores to the parking lots and lit them on fire. Another group knocked over a wheeled cart selling Modelland T-shirts, hats, and coffee mugs, throwing everything into the flames. A singed glossy photo of Ci~L slowly disintegrated to ash. A flag depicting the Modelland golden-eye SMIZE went up in a blue blaze.