I, Nina Van De Woodsen, woke up in my luxurious canopy bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows and the most comfortable blanket in the world. I sat up and yawned. Where was breakfast? I thought and looked around. The curtains were still drawn and there was barely any light in my room. It was Saturday. I always had breakfast in bed on Saturdays.
“Beatrice!” I shouted and in a flash, appeared a stubby woman in a maid’s outfit, with her black hair in a neat bun. The only thing missing was the silver tray that was supposed to hold waffles, covered in vanilla ice-cream, whipped cream and the finest strawberries, along with orange juice, coffee and the newest edition of Vogue magazine.
“Where is my breakfast?” I demanded, throwing a nasty look at her.
“Your father wants to see you,” she said in a soft tone. I jumped out of bed, grabbed my royal blue, silk robe and headed towards my father’s office. When I got there, he was in his suit and his lawyer, personal assistant and to my surprise, my mother was right next to him. Five years passed since their divorce and they hadn’t even walked on the same street but there they were.
“What’s going on daddy?” I asked, standing on my spot, still a little overwhelmed by the people in the room.
“Nina, you’re going to have to move in with your mother. I’m being arrested for cooperate fraud.” My father’s words hit me like bullets. “Now don’t ask questions and go.” He added and I was forced out. I walked at my slowest pace to my room. Beatrice already had my four Louis Vuitton suitcases packed and I wordlessly changed into something more appropriate.
My mother was standing by the elevator, smiling faintly. We went down and all I could think is that my was over. We drove to lower Manhattan in a cab. Who would have ever thought Nina Van De Woodesen would be going from Upper East Side to lower Manhattan.
“You can have my room,” said mom when we entered her apartment, which was the size of my old room. “And after you unpack, you can sweep the floors and I’ll start on lunch.”
“Sweep the what?” I repeated. Never in my entire life had I even touched a broom but mom gave me no choice. I groaned and began the work. I mumbled and cursed at her and my dad for ruining my life.
I was the socialite of New York and now I was cleaning a ruddy apartment, in Lower Manhattan. I was who people wanted to be, the press wanted me on the cover and I brought fashion into the stores of New York. I was a fashion icon and idol to many girls.
Once I was done, I was a sweat ball. I went to the bathroom and hoped for a bathtub with lavender scents but no, I found a shower. The water was cold and the shampoo was horrible. After the most excruciating shower, I went to have lunch.
“What do we have?” I asked, hoping to eat lamb stew, mashed potatoes and cranberry juice.
“Fried rice,” mum said, handing me a plate. I stared at it, horrified and I knew I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down in tears. Mum came over and hugged me. “Look sweetheart, I am sorry this isn’t the life you’re used to but it’s what you’re going to have to live. You’re Nina Van De Woodsen, you can do anything.”
I sighed and thought about what she said. Mum was right. I walked around in high heels all day and went through long hours of interviews, if I can do that, I can do anything. It didn’t matter whether I was sleeping floors and living in the smallest apartment I’d ever seen, I was a fighter and I could get through this.
I smiled at mum and nodded. We had lunch together and surprisingly, the fried rice wasn’t half bad. Who would have known?
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