Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except for the unfamiliar characters and plot.
This story takes on an ulternate universe kinda thing, where Hogwarts doesn't exist, or voldy, or magic and all that.
CHAPTER ONE:
"Hermione, Hermione!" Shutterbugs called, furiously clicking their cameras, trying to capture the beautiful, smart and multi talented singer/song writer and actress. Flashes of the familiar glows scintillated in her face and she offered a casual smile while she strode symmetrically down the red carpet toward the limo that awaited her. When she entered into the back, a sweet smell of caviar wafted beneath her nose, and once she settled in, she realized the stench was swirling in the entire car. She did not open the window for salubrious air or more smiles.
As the car began moving, her publicist, Joan, thrust a wine glass in her face, half filled with flourishing blood red wine.
"Here's to being single," she smiled through perfect teeth.
Hermione reluctantly took the glass but did not drink. She looked at the red liquid and for a brief moment imagined herself swirling uncontrollably in the ocean of its bitterness. She could almost feel the panic; the desperation and the longing to be saved brand her veins…
"You hide it so well," said Joan thoughtfully, gently twisting her wine glass. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders, her dark eyes black with thought and her brown-toned skin glowing. "At this point I would probably be cracking and startin' up some drama."
"Hey, let's not talk about it," Hermione warned. "I'm through with it."
"Yeah," Joan replied, "but they're not."
Hermione shrugged. "I'm not worried about them."
After a brief silence Joan looked up at Hermione. "Aren't you?"
"That's what you're here for-to help me not worry about them." Hermione glanced at the tinted windows and saw building lights whiz by, creating a three-colored color wheel. The car was moving quite fast, but seating here felt like floating on air, yet the fluttery never reached the barriers of her soul. Her head whipped back and faced Joan, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's going to be fun being single, no?
Joan's brow rose.
"I don't dwell on the past. I have a busy schedule ahead of me and many more guys to date!"
Joan laughed. "Alright"
They sipped their wine simultaneously.
"Excited about tomorrow?"
"A bit nervous, really. This is my first huge project that I'm starring in beside an internationally known actor," Hermione responded. "It's definitely going to be interesting."
"Good luck and er…"Joan smirked, teasing, "don't get your head stuck in the clouds."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly."
"Hmm…mmmh," said Joan skeptically. "He's pretty F.I.N.E."
Shaking her head, Hermione replied, " I'm not and won't be interested. I'll admit Draco Malfoy "has a face an angel will envy and a body that'll shame the gods"-quote, unquote, but, no."
The rest of the ride to the hotel was silent. When the limo finally stopped Joan hugged Hermione and added," Call me when you get there."
Hermione advanced into her hotel room and found all her bags packed and an outfit that consisted of DKNY jeans, Baby Phat tee, a warm jean jacket, a faux fur trench coat and strappy shoes on the white wooden rack. A small note was attached under the strappies:
Boots are in Juicy string bag. Have fun and have a safe flight!
-Love Mom.
Her mom was her stylist and her dad her manager. Hermione sighed.
She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin then walked into the aroma-scented bathroom and washed off all her make up. She suddenly felt naked without it as she gazed at herself in the wide mirror. It had been her mask for the entire day.
Her fingers began untying her black chiffon dress, causing the material to slide off her smooth skin and crumple to the floor. She looked at her body in the mirror and her eyes began to tear. Her arms crossed against her chest as if shielding her from perverted eyes.
What was wrong with her? What made her drive all of them away? Why wasn't she sexy enough for the men she had dated?
What the hell is the meaning of sexy anyway? She thought, gently biting her lip. What was wrong with being herself?
Picking up the dress she walked back into the room and threw the dress on top of the Juicy string bag then grabbed her nightshirt and crawled into bed. She blinked away all traces of tears and sat up in bed glaring at her manicured fingers.
She wasn't ok; far from it. Each day her heard pounded with heartache ache and each time someone mentioned his name her mind rewound to that day, a day that had forever been etched on the walls of her mind and every cell that constructed her heart.
I'll be ok, she whispered to herself, while switching off the lamp and sliding into the sheets. It's just me, myself and I now.
x.x.x.x
Draco Malfoy descended a pair of carpeted stairs, exited out the door and advanced toward the private plane. Beside him was his stunning model girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, sporting a Versace tube dress and leopard print Prada heeled sandals. Behind them were six stern-looking muscled bodyguards, marching confidently. From her peripheral vision, Pansy saw a curvy woman dressed in jeans, and –was that a Baby Phat tee? - advance her way with two bodyguards in tow. A gentle October breeze blew by causing the two strands of the woman's hair to gently fall back. Pansy's own hair tenderly tickled her neck.
"Granger is here," Pansy informed Draco, who's own white-blonde hair tussled unruly in the wind. His expression was calm and when he glanced at Hermione's advancing form, he retained that indifference.
"I can't believe she got the role and I didn't. The director must've been out of his rocker." After a few seconds she added, "I bet she slept with the director to convince him to lend her the role."
Draco's lips twitched a bit with a smile, but remained silent.
They reached the stairs and Draco dropped his bag in the hostess' arms. He retreated to the back with Pansy.
Hermione sat close to the front. She began pulling out her jean jacket because as she she'd walked pas the large mirror to her seat, she'd noticed her double D chest looked larger in the baby tee she had on. Top model, Pansy Parkinson, was about a C give or take and Hermione didn't want to give her the wrong impression flaunting her chest to her boyfriend, not that he'd be interested. Pansy was already furious for not receiving the lead role in this movie (or any role). She was a force to be reckoned with, both dangerously beautiful and just plain dangerous.
Hermione settled comfortably in the leather interior and a stewardess stepped up to offer her a beverage. She denied. Instead, her eyes scanned the décor in the plane and Hermione almost felt like royalty. There were furnishings of velvet, leather with accents of purple and silver. The entire interior seemed to be dipped in reds, golds, and creams, all touched up in an appealing décor.
He definitely has money to splurge, Hermione thought, thinking of his status.
Draco Malfoy was the son of the late Lucius Malfoy, owner of an international bank, two successful jewelry companies and had somehow managed to own a small, but significant share of Louis Vuitton. His mother, Narcissa Black, was a former top model who was worth quite a fortune herself, alone.
Draco had begun acting about a month and a half after his birth. He was now CEO and owner of his father's three companies-plus a small percentage of LV-, he had access to half his mother's fortune (after she dies) and had a fortune of his own. He was voted as the sexiest, richest and dangerous man on the entire planet. And was notorious for dating models. Only.
Yes, at the tender age of 25, Draco Malfoy was living a glorious and enviable life.
Shutting her eyes, Hermione allowed her head to fall back on the headrest and began massaging her temples. God, everywhere I look I'm surrounded by fabulousness. Not that she didn't have a fabulous life of her own, but sometimes she felt second best to everyone else and she hated that feeling with a passion.
I can't wait to arrive in Alaska. That's where part of the movie, Deceit, was being filmed. Maybe the cold will knock some sense into me and I'll stop bitching and moaning about nothing.
O.Oooo
As Draco sat glancing out the window, his fingers entwined with his sleeping girlfriends', he couldn't believe his rotten misfortune-for the thousandth time. Hermione Granger. She'd managed to seize the first lead role. So what if she'd won an Oscar for best supporting actress? So what if she had great potential? She was a singer, for crying out loud! Her job was to lock her damn self in some studio, composing love-gone-wrong bullshit in the hopes of it becoming a hit. What the hell did she know about acting?
He respected her only because she could hit the highest octave humanly possible and her voice was mind-blowing. That was nothing to ignore. However, when it came to acting, she didn't know shit! Her supporting role in "If the Shoe Fits…" hadn't been that great.
Why the hell did I audition for this role again? He asked himself, desperately trying to recall. I have enough money to support my great, great-grandchildren!
He inhaled, then exhaled slowly then looked ahead. All his movies had been box office hits and if this one did poorly because of Hermione's pitiful performance then there was going to be hell to pay, Draco vowed.
Seconds later he felt the plane gradually descend. The pilot voiced they'd be arriving in about fifteen or twenty minutes.
He ran his manicured fingers through his hair and involuntarily glanced outside. It was snowing. How the hell had he not noticed that?
Whatever, he thought almost smugly. I trained for this. Welcome to Alaska. Let the show begin.
Xo.xo
you like it?yes? no? tell me your opinions.
i mentioned Louis Vuitton and (duh) i don't own that. And the "if the shoe fits'' movie, ummm...i'm not sure if that's a reall movie or not. i was staring at my poster with this cute lil kitten trying own this large, hooker shoes(quite cute actually) and the title says "if the shoe fits.." so i thought, hell, why not make that the movie. and Deceit, i came up with that.
ENJOY!