Full Summary: Sakura has what every twenty-two-year old only dreams of; a penthouse flat in the centre of NYC (but she wishes she lives in a mansion), a wardrobe filled with designer clothes (but she wishes she had more), and a good job. But she wishes she had a better job. And she also wishes she hadn't spilt cappuccino all over that hot guy she met a few minutes ago…
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Disclaimer: This plot is loosely based on the "Shopaholic" series. I don't own CCS or the Shopaholic series. (I wish I did…)
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Thanks for those reviews, everyone! XD
And many thanks to my BFFL, SugarQuill Cutie, for helping me get focused and determined to write this chapter by constantly reminding me to do so on MSN. lol Love you lots!
Please leave some reviews, and feel free to leave any constructive criticisms or suggestions! Thanks!
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Update (June 15th, 2007): I have edited all of this story's chapters... because I've found very annoying typos. Also, be sure to check out the sequel to this story, Shopaholic Walks Down the Aisle, if you already haven't :)
In the Shoes of a Shopaholic
-Chapter 2– With Shopaholic's Luck
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My head aches mercilessly as I gradually become aware of the soft pillows under me. My eyes open slowly afterwards, and I feel myself moan as I close them again, trying to stretch out my arms and legs to make myself even more comfortable than I already am. I open my eyes once more, and the blurry images around me sharpen into focus. The first thing I see is strands of chestnut hair, inches away from my face…
I suddenly become very alert. Syaoran Li is lying right next to me on my bed, one of his arms wrapped around my waist.
I scream.
He wakes up so abruptly that he nearly knocks me off the bed with his arm as he bolts up. As I stare at him, my mouth parts wider than I intended it to be. After a few moments of catching his breath, he stares right down at me, smirking triumphantly.
And oh my fricking…
In his free hand is my favourite Louis Vuitton trunk (the one even I haven't used yet!) and it's brimming full of my accessories, clothes, makeup and purses!
I point at it and scream even louder than before.
Wait. Isn't this what whores do? Steal your stuff after they… Oh shit. He's raped me. I was right. Oh my god.
I look at him. No clothes.
I slowly look down and to my horror, I see my own bare chest. Shit. Shit. Shit.
This means… Syaoran Li is secretly a man whore! A man whore who couldn't resist me at first sight!
"NOOOO!" I scream at the top of my lungs.
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And I feel myself fall onto something quite hard. I open my eyes drowsily to face the wooden floor in the living room. Damn. Why couldn't it be carpeted?
"Sleep well?" comes a low, taunting voice.
"You man-whore!" I shout before I can stop myself. But Syaoran merely cocks an eyebrow.
"Hmm. Interesting dream. Though if you recall, I don't sleep with women who spill coffee all over me?" he smirks, still staring down at me from the black couch (the one Tomoyo and Eriol were making out on…eww…). He doesn't even bother helping me up.
It was an interesting dream. Really odd, out of the ordinary. Not that I didn't think his muscles were sexy and all… but that's completely off the topic here.
I purse my lips tightly to close the subject and try to draw my attention to something else in order to completely ignore him. And just in time, my senses reawake and a pleasing aroma stops my trail of thoughts. Mmm… Tomoyo's specialty… Spaghetti. And I bet Eriol's baking garlic bread right next to her… Perhaps even right on top of her… On second thought, I'm not that hungry anymore.
I feel Syaoran's gaze still on me and turn to him reluctantly.
"Yes?" I ask patiently, though I really am not.
"So, Sakura, how old are you?" he asks conversationally.
I pause before quietly muttering an answer, "Twenty-two."
He smirks. "You should treat me with more respect then; ever heard of respecting your elders?"
I look up at him in annoyance. "So you regard yourself as a grandpa?" I smile widely. He doesn't even twitch; he's just still smirking, reading me like an open book. "Don't look at me like that. It's freaky," I mutter before walking towards the kitchen. I hear a thud, indicating that he has sat back down on the couch.
Wait. What is that?
I step back and look down at the table below the framed painting Tomoyo drew a few years back.
Oh God. A pile of letters…
I grab them and read through them… There's one… To S. Kinomoto. From the Bank of New York City…
Am I getting arrested? Oh, it's the bank. That's worse…. Syaoran Li's giving me that freaky look again… I awkwardly walk towards the bathroom with my letter, hastily closing the door behind me. I rip it open and read it… My VISA card bill… Holy fuck, I spent… how much? I can't even read that… I could, but I really don't want to.
Whoa; the list is like, three pages long! I start skimming through it, an automatic mental note beginning inside my head.
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Second Cup - $20 (essential cappuccino and brownie... and lunch. I didn't have any change!)
Louis Vuitton Boutique - $323 (they were having a sale. A sale! I was saving money.)
Aldo Shoes - $96 (I needed shoes. Everyone needs shoes. And I'll get around to wearing them… eventually.)
La Senza - $45 (Underwear. Essential. Duh.)
La Vie En Rose - $36 (more lingerie… Very sexy…. Who cares if no guy sees them?)
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Anyways… I just forget about reading the whole thing. It'll only stress me out. I only spent…
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Total Amount Due: $5570.00
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Hmm.
What? WHAT?
No way! How! This is… not cool! No!
Me, Sakura Kinomoto, a once-not-worrying-about-money-girl… is going broke? Before I know it, I'll be living in a box! Or a shopping cart! No!
I mean, this is a bank! I can't owe them anything! They have the entire city's money! They can't just… I want to scream.
Wait… What if I just accidentally on purpose throw this bill out…?
They can't charge me for a bill I never knew about! If they call me, I'll just be like, "What bill?" Ha! So I gather the paper and am about to chuck it into the garbage when a thought occurs to me. Tomoyo could find it in here… OR the garbageman… He could read it and report it to the bank, then I'd really get arrested!
That won't be cool… Then my eyes come to the window. Ah.
Wait. Then a policeman, or a banker, or some ordinary, unfashionable person who knows nothing about fashion or how much a girl needs a pair of shoes or lingerie could find it…
Then… Aha! The toilet! There aren't any people watching some piss and shit travel down the pipes… I think.
I scrunch up the paper and toss it into the toilet bowl. Then I triumphantly flush it. But a sickening feeling comes to my stomach as the water rises instead of draining… The paper's stuck! "No!" I whisper, desperately trying to flush it down. But it won't.
After thirty-three attempts of flushing the toilet, I swear to myself. Then I wrinkle my nose and grab the wet paper from inside the toilet. I start to gag as I cover the wet mass up with toilet paper. I hastily shove it behind the toilet and wash my hands thoroughly before exiting the bathroom quietly.
Then something catches my eyes. And nose.
Bingo.
Syaoran Li is lighting a cigarette in the balcony. I literally run to him. "Can I borrow that?" I ask breathlessly, pointing at his lighter. He raises an eyebrow as he exhales a cloud of smoke. He wordlessly hands it over to me. I grin and run back to the bathroom and lock the door again. I place the 'paper' in the sink and laugh evilly.
I set my former bills on fire. As the paper turns black, I quickly turn on the tap to put the flames out. I cough at the smoke and blink as my eyes begin to sting. I take more toilet paper to move the burnt bills to the garbage bin. "Now no one can say anything about anything!" I smirk.
As I step out of the bathroom, so does the smoke. I realize that Syaoran is standing right in front of me, his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "What the hell were you doing in there? Putting yourself on fire?" he frowns and coughs, waving the smoke away. I laugh innocently and begin to sway to the side with dizziness. He quickly grabs my arm, helping me regain my balance.
"Just this and that," I shrug.
He gives me that amused look again. "I see," he nods.
'I really need to earn some money…' I think to myself. Suddenly, Tomoyo rushes to us, beaming. "Look what Eriol got me!" she waves her hand frantically in front of my face. I blink and grab her hand to steady her.
Oh. A brilliant diamond ring…
I'm utterly speechless as I examine the silver ring. "For what?" I ask, still coughing.
"He asked me to marry him; duh!" Tomoyo squeals.
"Oh…" I sigh. "Oh!" I exclaim, realizing what she had just said.
Syaoran looks at her with a grin. "What, right now? While making spaghetti?" he muses.
"Well… he was going to ask me tomorrow night, but the ring box sort of fell into the sauce and I fished it out…" Tomoyo giggles. I gape at her then at the ring.
Now I really need to earn some money and get a boyfriend.
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Application Form
Name: Sakura Kinomoto
Age: 22
Sex: Female
Birthday: April 1st
Language(s): English, Japanese, French (Hey, I learned during a semester in grade nine. I mean, who speaks French in New York? That's only in Canada!)
Experience(s): - a hardworking secretary (I'll get back on this one... not that I don't have any experiences or anything!)
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