Chapter 2 02

Chapter 02

My mother's features softened. "Oh yes... I'm so stupid," she muttered, rubbing her temples as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

Yes, I was having sex. However, I wasn't stupid enough to go and get pregnant. I'd lost my virginity to a boy I was completely happy with at the time-and, in many ways, I still was. He wasn't just a boy. He was a good friend, someone who helped me grow. He was the one who gave me my first tattoo, which was the beginning of this whole whirlwind-of tattoos, piercings, and everything else that followed.

Losing my virginity hadn't been a mistake. We had been dating for a year, much to my parents' displeasure. I could still remember their disapproving glares, their scolding lectures that I should focus on my studies instead. But I wanted something more, and I wasn't going to shy away from it. So, I gave it up to someone who meant something to me, even if they didn't approve. It was my body, my choice.

He'd helped me a lot, too. Some people might accuse him of being rough or demanding in bed, but those people didn't know him like I did. He wasn't like that. He made sure everything felt right. He went out of his way to make it an experience I would never forget. He'd booked a hotel room just for us, kept asking me if I was okay, checking in constantly, making sure I was absolutely sure before we took the next step.

It was amazing.

I glanced at my mother, who was still lost in her thoughts. "Well, it's good you're home," she finally said, her voice slightly distant as she seemed to return to reality. "Tomorrow, we're all going to the villa," she added, looking at me. "So, you're going to pack."

I rolled my eyes. Not again.

I had no desire to attend this family gathering. It wasn't like I was going to see anyone there I cared about. I was always an outsider in that circle-no matter how hard my mother tried to fit me into her idea of what a "perfect family" should look like. Every year, it was the same thing. She'd spend weeks preparing, decorating the villa, and organizing everything down to the smallest detail, just so she could show off to her family and friends that we were a happy, tight-knit family. It always felt like a performance.

My father's voice bellowed up the stairs, cutting through the air. "Danniella and Danielle! We're running late!"

With a groan, I finished tying up my boots and made my way down the stairs. This was always a mess. No matter how early we started, my mother's frantic last-minute preparations always meant we were late.

"I don't even want to go," I mumbled, handing my father my black suitcase. He took it from me and placed it on the floor beside all the other suitcases.

"Same here," he grumbled under his breath.

I grinned at his response, patting him on the shoulder. "Gosh, the love you show Mother," I said sarcastically, unable to hide the amusement in my voice. My dad was usually the quieter one in the family, always staying out of the drama, but even he couldn't deny how ridiculous these trips were.

Today, we were heading to the family villa, a tradition that my mother adored. Every summer, she hosted a gathering there with a select group of family and friends. The villa was her personal paradise-a place to show off and remind everyone just how perfect her life was. The thing was, it wasn't just family. It was only her family, the ones she could trust to play along in her little show of perfection.

Typically, I had no friends in that group. Not like I cared, though. I wasn't interested in comparing how much money I had with other people, or how their lives measured up against mine. In the end, I didn't feel a connection to any of them. I had Daniella, and that was about it.

Naturally, my twin sister, Daniella, was the one everyone gravitated toward. She was everything I wasn't-everything my mother loved and admired. Daniella was the "golden child." The perfect daughter, the pretty, blonde, popular one. She had everything going for her-at least in their eyes. She never struggled with finding a place in the family. But me? I was always the shadow. Always in her wake, never quite fitting in. I didn't care much for it, though. I had my own life, and I preferred to keep it that way.

As we arrived at the villa, I was already feeling the pressure of the upcoming weeks. My mother's demands started before we even unpacked. "You and Daniella will share a bedroom," she said, looking at me with that all-too-familiar smile. "It's important to show people that we're a close-knit family."

I nearly snorted at that idea. Sharing a room with Daniella was never a pleasant experience. She was messy, obnoxious, and cared far too much about appearances. But this was just part of the routine. I could already feel the tension building up between us.

As I placed my things in the wardrobe, Daniella walked in, struggling with her bags. She huffed and puffed, clearly annoyed by the weight of the suitcases she'd packed, though I was sure they were filled with nothing more than an obscene amount of clothes and beauty products.

"Wow, we're only here for four weeks, not for the rest of our lives," I said dryly, watching as she dropped multiple suitcases onto the floor with a thud.

Daniella flipped her natural blonde hair over her shoulder, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Some people want to look good," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She glanced at me, her eyes narrowing. "Not that you'd understand."

I bit back a laugh. "Right. Because looking like a walking, talking mannequin is definitely the key to happiness," I replied, raising an eyebrow.

She ignored me, of course. Daniella always did. Her world revolved around appearances, while mine was about something deeper-something more real. We were different, but that didn't stop my mother from trying to mold us into the perfect image of sibling harmony.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as I finished putting my clothes away. This was going to be a long four weeks.