Eliana
Before…
The universe hates me. There’s no other explanation for why I have to spend a Saturday morning with my mother at a dress fitting. I grip my bedpost until my knuckles whiten, suck in a breath, and endure the torture of being stuffed like a sausage into a corset that feels two sizes smaller than my body. Bowing my head, I try to suck in a breath to make the process easier.
“Can that corset be pulled tighter?” My mother asks her personal tailor, Stephan, who responds with an irritated sigh.
“If I pull this thing any tighter, it’ll pop at the seams, Serafina.” I catch his eye in the mirror, and he winks. Stephan gets me. She doesn’t. I try not to fight with her, at least on something as stupid as this because it’ll only lead to an argument. I hate arguing with my mother. I much prefer ignoring she exists.
“Eliana, I told you to reduce those portion sizes.” I bite my tongue yet again to prevent me from saying something we’ll all regret. It isn’t worth exposing poor Stephan to our hostility toward one another.
Stephan leads us both into my dressing room once he believes I’m squished enough then helps me climb onto a pedestal in the middle of the room. He drapes yet another ball gown over me, a red, silk gown this time. The bodice fits too snugly, and the dress flairs out at my waist. I look in the mirror and raise an eyebrow.
“I look hideous. It isn’t me. It’s so… fancy,” I groan. “I am not wearing this one either, it’s too over the top.” I can’t keep the disgust out of my voice.
“It is lovely, Eliana, don’t be so dramatic,” my mother says as she sits in a plush, white armchair and continues to type into her phone without looking up.
Stephan shakes his head. “I could make a couple of tweaks, give it some of that grungy, chic you’re into,” he winks.
I giggle at how quickly that has my mother looking up from her phone screen, eyes wide and defensive.
“Absolutely not! The dress is perfect the way it is.” She stands, sashaying over to where Stephan and I stand. “It’s bad enough she won’t wear gloves to cover up that distasteful tattoo,” she scrunches up her face.
I roll my eyes. “This isn’t the dark ages, Mother. Have you never been young?”
She stands back, narrowing her eyes, giving me a once over. “This will do, Stephan, store them in her closet with the other two I chose.” I’m not surprised she ignores my comment.
“Yes, ma’am.” He offers me a hand down from the stool. “You’d look beautiful, by the way, in any of those gowns.”
“You’re supposed to say that, we’re friends,” I sulk.
My mother is already on her phone again, walking away from us. Serafina Hernandez fits into this setting so well, the fancy house, glamorous décor that she picked out herself, and designer clothing. This is who she is. But it isn’t me, far from it. I didn’t even have a say in what my bedroom looked like. My opinion wasn’t part of her grand design.
“It’s not her fault, you know? You’re a Hernandez, and that name alone has expectations.”
I smile at him them let him help me out of the monstrosity they call a dress. As soon as it’s off, I tug on my ripped jeans and crossover blouse, tie my hair in a ponytail, and pull on my boots. I immediately feel like myself again. “I can’t wait till I’m out of here.” I say under my breath.
“Ella, are you keeping something from me?” Stephan spins around, his eyes narrowing in on me.
“Of course not,” I wave him off. “But we both know that’s been the plan, right?” I lie. I love Stephan, but he can’t keep his mouth shut, and the last thing I want is for him to blab about my interview in Los Angeles to his partner, Yanez, who happens to be a close friend of my mother.
I did it. I got an interview with one of LA’s most prestigious PR Companies, CJJ, two days from now. Landing an interview alone is a dream come true. Now all I have to do is impress them enough to take a chance on me.
“Sweetheart, it isn’t going to be that simple, you of all people should know that.”
I let out a groan. “I do, Steph, but working with my father is completely out of the question.”
He walks over to me, wraps his arms around me, and gives me a squeeze. “Just don’t do anything foolish.”
I squeeze him back. “I won’t.”
He looks at the watch on his wrist. “I should get going, dinner with my family tonight, I’m going to introduce them to Yanez.” He pulls away from me, a fake look of excitement on his face as he waves his hands about. Stephan’s family have hardly come to terms with the fact that he is gay, and throw in a partner, I can only imagine the drama that is going to unfold tonight.
“Good luck.” I say, meaning it. “Remember, this is your life, and you deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you, honey.” He kisses my cheek, and I watch him walk away.
Stepping out onto my balcony, I take a seat on the lounger, closing my eyes and enjoying some sunshine. I wish I could take my own advice and stop feeling guilty about putting myself first. I need to learn to let my own happiness take priority. But when you’re reminded your entire life of how insignificant you are, you tend to start believing it. I am a Hernandez, not Eliana. A collective. There was no room for individuality in my world.
