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 so wish I did…)
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Sorry for the late update! Thanks for those reviews, everyone! XD
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 :)
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In the Shoes of a Shopaholic
-Chapter 3- Shopaholic and her Peach Bellini
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I can't shut my mouth. I can't speak. What the heck's going on? I calmly try to read the letter before me once more…
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Blahblahblahblahblah to Sakura Kinomoto.
Blahblahblahblah…
you've been selected for an interview for
blahblahblahblah as a blahblahblah at
blahblahblah….
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Wait a second. At… oh, RP Communications… WHAT? What the fuck's this doing here? I never applied for a…. Oh. Maybe I did… that time I got really drunk with that really good Peach Bellini and signed some random application forms… Damn.
But… RPC? What the hell is that? I try to remember what I put down on the paper… Hmm… I furrow my eyebrows…. English… Japanese…. French….
What the fuck.
Whatever. It's an interview! Maybe… GASP! A commercial shoot! Oh my God. I knew I'd make a perfect star! Yes! I'll be as famous as… Paris Hilton! Wait. I won't make sex tapes like she did… I think… so… I'll be like…Well, whatever! The point is, I'll be all rich, famous and sexy, and I'll hook up with my hot manager and have hot, sexy sex every night secretly in his office! Yessss!
Everything's working out perfectly! I'll have to start going to church everyday to thank the Man. Now then, what shall I wear…?
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Tomoyo and Eriol goggle at me as I step out of my room. Tomoyo squeals and dashes over to me. "I should have married you if I knew you'd be this sexy!" she grins, winking at Eriol. Her has a mock-hurt look on his face and places his hand over his heart. I grin, satisfied, and turn to face the mirror.
I'm wearing my new Armani suit (which cost me… I won't spoil it… it's for my new sexy career!) and Gucci heels, and I must say, I do look pretty hot. My white dress shirt is tight beneath my suit, making me look skinnier than I really am, my hair is long and wavy-ish, and my makeup was done perfectly by Tomoyo. God, I look amazing.
Oops. I must NOT say the G word… I have gone to church…. Yesterday, and learned to not use "G-"… I mean… the Man's name in vain. But G-, man, it's hard. Well, I'll be a better Christian from now on, and I'll be one of those celebrities who thanks the Man before they get any award… Yes. A better… Oh God, I'm hungry… Oops. That was me pleading to God for some food. Yes… Forget about it. For now.
Eriol notices my self-battling expression and smirks. (And for some odd reason, it reminds me of Syaoran…) "Sakura, try to stay calm. I mean, they may offer you a job to be a secretary again!" I roll my eyes. Men. Do they know anything?
Tomoyo squeezes my hand tightly with one hand while spraying me with some Coco Chanel with the other. "You'll do fine! I know you will!" she beams ay me, her eyes sparkling. I smile and hug her. "You're the best…"
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But as I'm standing I front of the door, the fluffy, fuzzy and warm feelings inside me drain out. Like piss. Shit. Never mind that…
"Miss Kinomoto?" a girl with blond hair and a Karen Millen suit calls me from behind. I nod and bravely enter the room.
And I must admit; the interview goes on fairly smoothly… The woman interviewing me is wearing a nameless suit, and has asked basic questions about my job experiences, majors, criminal records… but I still haven't got a clue of what I'm doing.
"Miss Kinomoto, as a final test, I'd like for you to demonstrate your language skills for me," she smiles, setting her clipboard on her knees. Ha! I knew it! I'm going to have to show her my social skills to be a model! Before I can reply smartly, the door opens. A few people walk into the room, speaking agitatedly with one another in some alien language. I frown and listen more closely. Do I have to show people skills with these people?
Then I catch some familiar words… Oh shit. That sounds like… Oh hell no… No… No…. No… They can't be serious…
"There aren't many available French speakers in the city," my interviewer says. "Go on."
Shit. I'm supposed to be a translator? What kind of a job is that! Not a model, not even a secretary, but a bloody translator? Noo. No. Quick. They're looking at me. Say something.
I laugh nervously. "Haha… Oh non!" I say in a strained, high voice. But no one laughs. No moving. No speaking. No nothing. Shit. "Uh… er… I'll just… au revoir!" and I dash out of the room in embarrassment.
Shit. What the fuck did I put down on the paper? Oh. I remember. Fluent French. Ha! As if! Wow. I must be drunk or something. I feel all dizzy as I get into the elevator. Then I hear some footsteps running towards me. Oh shit. They're going to arrest me? No! I'm only twenty-two!
I haven't had all that good of sex yet, and I don't have a boyfriend, or that gorgeous Chanel ring! And I haven't told my brother that he's actually not that bad-looking, or Tomoyo that I secretly had a crush on Eriol before they started going out, and that I secretly swapped the Louis Vuitton handbag I got her for a cheaper Guess one. Wait. I'm not gonna die, am I? Rot in some cell all my life? No!
A tall man abruptly stops in front of me, holding the elevator doors. His chestnut hair snaps me back to reality. …What?
His amber eyes… Expensive suit… Expensive Armani aftershave… Aw man, am I really drunk? He smirks, breathes and gets into the lift beside me. Oh shit. It's the real thing. It's the real Syaoran Li.
Suddenly, he starts to laugh hysterically. I sort of jump and turn to him, my eyes as wide as they can be. His eyes are crinkled as he laughs uncontrollably, and his voice is deep and soothing… Wow. He's pretty damn sexy. I slap myself inward for that. "What's so funny?" I manage to say.
"French! You pretended to know French!" he hiccoughs hysterically.
"It's not that funny," I mutter, turning beet red anyway. "I suppose this company's also your client?" I mumble.
He nods and leans back against the wall, calming down. "I was getting ready for a meeting, and all of a sudden, all I hear is, "Oh non!"" He grins at me and shakes his head. "You thought no one spoke French or something, huh?" he turns to me, "But the less people available to speak it, the more of them people need."
I scowl, rolling my eyes and folding my arms in front of my chest. "Whatever."
The elevator comes to a halt at the ground floor and I try to dash out of it as soon as it does. Except… I'm not moving… Oh. My purse is stuck at the railing. Damn.
Syaoran's smirking again as he 'helps' me remove the stuck strap from the railing. "I'm going over to Eriol's. I think Tomoyo's going to be there too…" he says, not letting go of my purse. "Wanna come along?" he asks, a flick of amusement in his eyes. I eye him suspiciously, doing some math inside my head.
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Car + Guy like him + Girl like me equals SEX.
SEX equals babies/STDs/marriage/relationship…
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But then I think, what the hell. I think Syaoran just read that math bit too… Damn.
I'll tag along and hang around with Tomoyo all day. No chance of sex there. Hah! I've nothing else to do, really, since I took the day off. Before I can say anything, though, the Man in Black from last time is back. He scares me soooo much it's not even funny. With his huge muscles, shades and suit. Man. He silently opens the car door for me to get in, and closes it as Syaoran is seated beside me.
As the car starts to move, I glance sideways, and realize Syaoran's studying my outfit. "Nice suit," he comments in a monotone. I'm dumbfounded.
Oh my Man. He just complimented me… Wait... Back to the math… Nice is a synonym for fine… and fine equals hot… and hot is almost like sexy… and sexy… comes from the word SEX! Oh my… MAN! He wants to FUCK ME!
I turn beet red again, and notice that look on his face. Again. Is he psychic or something? Seriously. "But too much for a translator, I think," he adds slowly, smirking. I purse my lips tightly. Why the hell did I get into his car in the first place? He's just going to tease me all day. Why do I keep bumping into him? Geesh.
From that moment he forced me to serve him coffee, I knew he was going to be a pain in the ass. Aware of his mind-reading, Obi-Wan Kenobi-wannabe gaze, I give a nonchalant smile and look out the window. Then my face lights up. We're passing by Saks Fifth Avenue! My eyebrows go up. Oh. OH! I see a pair of… Aww… oh! My eyebrows arch down again. OH! And up again… Now I see a set of… Man… stop going so fast! Now… Oh. Trees. Damn. My eyebrows stay furrowed.
Syaoran gives a snort, and I irritably turn to him. "Do you have to be so Obi-Wan-ish, reading my expressions and shit all the time?" I snap. He merely snorts again. What is he, a pig?
""Obi-Wan-ish?"" he echoes amusingly, raising an eyebrow.
"Your freaky I-can-read-minds look! Now shut up!" I yell, scowling.
"You get agitated really easily," he says while taking out a white folder with a pink post-it on it. I see a heart drawn on it, but before I can read it, he opens it to read the contents. Hmm. Trying to be all mysterious and secretive, huh? Maybe he had sex with some famous chick and she's still thinking he wants her or something. I mean, look at him! He looks as if he wants to be the sex god of New York or something!
Then it suddenly hits me. I can't believe that the Syaoran Li and I are talking. In the same car. I mean… I'm just a secretary in some shitty company… and he's like… the twentieth richest man in the country! How unreal is this? I knew Tomoyo was the kind of friend to bring me luck… Wait… this isn't luck… He's so… creepy! I like Obi-Wan. He's hot, but Syaoran… Okay. He's hot too. Hotter. But… That doesn't mean…
I'm going crazy. I'm arguing with myself.
The sharp scent of a cigarette makes me cough and snap back to reality. Syaoran opens the window and exhales. "Sorry if you don't like it, but I have to," he shrugs. I nod, opening my own window to breathe. Second-hand smoking… I'm gonna dieeeeeee….
"This reminds me – what were you doing with my lighter the other day, in your bathroom?" he raises a quizzical brow.
I immediately flush. "Erm- I was- Well… cleaning. Yes. That's it. Cleaning," I finally say. Well, I was cleaning, in a sense. Burning bills and cleaning them off from my mind.
"Hmm," he just turns to smoke again. Man. He's only like, twenty-four, isn't he? And he's smoking like that already… Wow. Ha. He's going to be a moron because he'll kill all his brain cell things… What a pothead. Oops. Could he hear that, too?
The car stops in front of the gates of a huge mansion, and continues on when they open with a loud 'beep!' Eriol's place is hu-uge. It's been in his family for centuries and it's beautiful! Gardeners and maids run about everyday, butlers are at his service twenty-four-seven… If Eriol's this posh, I wonder how posh, Syaoran is? Not that I care. Just for… research. Yes, that's it.
As I admire the scenery, Syaoran leans over to the Man in Black. "That'll do, Jim. I'll call you over tomorrow morning," he says. So he has a name. Hmm… Wait. Morning? What the hell's he doing until then? …. Oh. Ew… Disgusting idea. Disturbing. Totally disturbing… Man. Yuck. I avert my attention to the stone steps leading to the beautiful and grand main doors. As soon as Syaoran rings the doorbell, a butler opens them and greets us, addressing us as "Sir and Madam."
Wait. That… makes us sound like we're… married…? I'm about to retort, but Syaoran smirks, takes off his jacket and mine and gives it to him. He walks towards the living room while unbuttoning his wristcuffs and loosening his tie at the same time.
Who does he think he is, Tom Cruise? OK. Fine. That was a bit cool. But who cares?
"Eriol? You here?" he calls out in an unrecognizably friendly tone. It's weird. With Eriol, he's like… normal… But with others, he's more… cold and…formal. Hmm. Well, fuck that. I'll just not care. "Over here," comes Eriol's voice. I follow Syaoran and peer over the couch, where Eriol's lying down… I raise my eyebrows. Eriol looks… tired?
But he's never tired! He always tries not to stress himself with work, and tries to rest a lot… But he really looks exhausted… What were he and Tomoyo… Oh God. Another disturbing image. What the hell's wrong with me today? Syaoran seems to notice Eriol's tiredness and takes a seat by his feet. "'What the hell's up with you?" At first I thought he was reading my mind again, but then thought otherwise. Eriol sighs and shrugs. "Sakura, Tomoyo's up in her room," he says.
I nod and hurry up the marble staircase. Maybe they had bad sex? Or an argument. Anyways… gossip!
I hastily go into Tomoyo's room, which is full of her artwork, sketchbooks, a piano and a couch. As I close the door behind me, she appears from behind the couch, looking as relaxed and pretty as ever. She has a huge grin on her face, and she looks really good. I don't know why, but she really looks good. Not that she's never looked good. She's really pretty and all… but today…. "How'd it go?" she asks anxiously, holding my hand. I'm about to whine about what happened and what's on my mind, but I can't bring myself to speak.
Tomoyo's curtains are open, and the sunlight is shining down on her hair and face, illuminating her grin. Her usually pale skin seems… like it's glowing…? New bronzer, perhaps? Wait… she looks a bit… chubby? What? Tomoyo, chubby? My eyes dart to her stomach. I gasp and put my hand on it disbelievingly.
"Oh my God," I gasp. This explains Eriol's tiredness. Tomoyo's grin gets wider. "You're pregnant?" I squeal, not knowing whether to cry or laugh. "Yes! Have been for a month now!" Tears form in her eyes as she smiles. "I didn't find out until yesterday, though. I started getting morning sicknesses and headaches only this week, and Eriol took me to the hospital, because he thought I had cancer." We both burst out laughing.
"Oh my God… Tomoyo…" I'm about to cry now. "You're going to have a baby…." I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly. "Is it a boy? Girl? Oh… I hope it's a girl!" I say excitedly, thinking about all the designer name baby clothes I can buy her. Tomoyo giggles. "We'll find out. But first… We're having our wedding next month." I gape at her. "What? You didn't even have an engagement party yet!" I exclaim. "We had sex before marriage. That's better than a party," she shrugs. "Sex isn't that great," I say in disbelief.
I have very… very bad memories from my first sex… Let's just say… There was alcohol, puke and a lot of blood. Tomoyo giggles even more. "Eriol's had two more years of sex than me, and I tell you, it's great," she winks. We both start giggling uncontrollably.
"Fine! Let's go shopping! Right now! For your dress, the baby, wedding things… unless… it's bad for the baby to walk that much?" my smile falters. Tomoyo slaps my arm playfully. "I don't have a disease, Sakura! You're as bad as Eriol! He wouldn't let me eat by myself!" She laughs. "Let's go! All the wedding stuff is done, thanks to our parents. All we need is a dress for you and me."
"Ooh! I get to be the maid of honour thing, don't I?" I squeal in excitement. "Of course! Who else would it be? Syaoran's the best man, so if you two hook up…" "What dress should I get?" I laugh a bit hysterically as I cut her off.
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Wow. Tomoyo and Eriol. And Hiiragizawa Junior. This is going too fast… It's like… They're in a different world from me now…
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Syaoran and Eriol are at home laughing and drinking beer, all the while with their folders and laptops open. Men.
Tomoyo and I, on the other hand, we women are at Saks Fifth Avenue to shop, shop, shop. Thank God Tomoyo's such a rich and generous star! She's going to pay for everything. I couldn't say no because… Well… I'm still broke. But… no time for that!
Tomoyo has a baby, and I get to choose dresses for me and her for free! A bridesmaid! Or a maid of honour. Whatever! I still get to wear a dress! This is so exciting…
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-Chapter 3- Shopaholic and her Peach Bellini – End-
Sakura and Tomoyo's Wedding Shopping Spree continues in Chapter 4….
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