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…) I don't own Fall Out Boy's song either. I wish I did…
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Thanks for those reviews, everyone! XD
And… um… is the swearing really bad in this?
Because I don't think it's so much that I need to up the rating… '0';
Is it…? But I want this to be a teen fic! –runs into a wall-
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Should I make a sequel? Review or email me to tell me! XD
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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 6 – Shopaholic Explodes?-
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I remember the first time I ever had sex – it was in grade 12, on graduation night.
Some rich kid held a party at his place and invited everyone to it… And Tomoyo and I went… But I was the only one who got really drunk. And I was the one who followed my then-boyfriend to the bedroom. He was all weird… Really… really… weird… I thought he was disgusting… And I don't think he ever had Sex Ed., because… well, it was my first time, and there's blood… right?
He freaked out about it… Then I puked on him. Because of the drinks I had. I think…
We broke up the next day.
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I should really stop drinking so much… My head aches as I wake up and get up from the warm bed. I realize that I'm in Eriol's house; there are paintings all around the room. Sure enough, Tomoyo comes into the room, looking worried but still glowing with her pregnant belly.
"Here," she hands me a cup and a pill.
I take them both in my hands and try to refresh my memories. "How'd I get here?"
Tomoyo sighs. "Syaoran brought you here… Then he talked to Eriol for a bit…" she bites her lip. "THEN HE FUCKING DROVE OFF WITH HIS SKINNY BLOND TANNED GIRLFRIEND TO HAVE SEX WITH HER AT HIS PLACE WHICH IS REALLY POSH AND COOL AND THEY PROBABLY JUST WOKE UP AND ARE FLIRTING WITH EACH OTHER WHICH IS NOT WRONG BECAUSE THEY'RE DATING BUT IT STILL DRIVES ME NUTS TO THINK ABOUT IT BECAUSE IT DOES!"
I fall off the bed. "T- Tomoyo! Keep calm! You have a baby!" I stammer.
She nods, inhales and exhales deeply. "What I'm saying is," she breathes, "He's been hiding this from you all along… Although you never asked, he should have! Look at this."
I find myself gaping at a magazine cutout.
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ROMANCE OF THE SUCCESSFUL ENTERPRENEUR AND DESIGNER'S NIECE
Syaoran Li, 24, American's most successful entrepreneur, announces that he's dating Emily Lauren, 24, the niece of the fashion designer Ralph Lauren. Li described Lauren as a 'charming and beautiful' woman, while Lauren described him as an 'irresistible' man.
The two had met at a private party held at a club, and began to see each other after a week.
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Tomoyo cuts me off. "Eriol tells me the two have a very healthy sexual relationship." She scowls as I blink.
"Meaning they practically do each other in different ways EVERY DAY!"
"Oh," I just sigh exasperatedly, shooting a contemptuous glance at the picture on the paper.
They look good together.
Damn.
"SAKURA!" Tomoyo suddenly yells. I snap out of my stupor.
"What?"
"You've got to pay him back somehow!" her eyes are menacingly evil…
"How?" I ask, dumbly.
Tomoyo rubs her pregnant belly thoughtfully. "I'll tell Eriol to invite him and you to dinner. Sans the Blonde," she smirks suggestively. "Then you can sort things out with him."
"What's there to sort?"
"EVERYTHING," she says, her eyes glinting evilly… No arguing with her…
"Oh yeah," I suddenly remember, "I had a drink with Tom last night."
She gapes at me. "Then Syaoran came along with his girlfriend?" I nod. She shakes her head, a mysterious look on her face. "If you puked on him or something, it would've been better," she sniggers, patting her belly. I silently sip my water and swallow the pill. It's an eerie sight; a beautiful, glowing pregnant woman wearing that kind of face… "ERIOL!" she suddenly bellows, making me choke on the water. Eriol immediately beings to run from his room, stopping right behind Tomoyo.
"What is it," he pants exhaustedly, "More ice cream? Chocolate? Porn vid-"
"WHAT!" I splutter, spraying the carpet with water.
Tomoyo stares at the wet carpet then at Eriol. "Could we make Syaoran wipe that with a toothbrush?" she asks innocently, her finger trailing from his lips to his chin.
Eriol raises his eyebrows in confusion. "What would I make the CEO of Li Enterprises do that?" he asks carefully, as if not to cross with her mood swings.
"BECAUSE HE WAS GIVING SAKURA WRONG IDEAS AND NOW HE'S DOING HIS GIRLFRIEND WITH TANNED SKINNY LEGS UNLIKE MINE IN HIS FRICKING POSH PLACE PROBABLY COPYING MOVES FROM A VIDEO!" she roars, her usually soft voice breaking high at ceratin places.
Eriol shakily readjusts his glasses, his head bowed down. "I tried to tell him-"
"-That he should dump the skinny blond?" suggests Tomoyo cheerfully.
"No… rather, to make sure something like this wouldn't happen…"
"So you knew this was coming?"
Eriol looks over at me with a tired look, but I merely stretch luxuriously and close my eyes. I'm enjoying this.
Tomoyo's eyes glint mischievously. "Well, he's going to come over here tonight, seven o' clock sharp, and he will apologize and he will beg for Sakura's forgiveness!"
"What –er- exactly did he do to her?"
"Break her heart."
"Oh…" he pauses. "OH…!"
"NO, HE DID NOT!" I suddenly snap out of my daze.
"She's in denial," Tomoyo sighs, her eye twitching weirdly. "Well, Eriol, I'm going to see what kind of poison I can put in Syoaran's food, 'kay darkling?" she kisses his lips briefly before heading out of the room, her belly leading the way.
Eriol sighs, messing up his hair with an unrecognizable noise of irritation. "Tough time, eh?" I say sympathetically.
"She's really, really, REALLY moody," he sighs, "One second she'd want me to bring her chocolate, then she'd want coffee, then she'd say she's too fat so she wants water, then she wants to watch kiddie movies, then she want rated-R movies, then family movies, then tearjerkers, then comedies, then she'd want me to bring her a fruit bowl, then she'd want me to call her your highness…"
"-Eriol," I cut in, frowning. "I think all pregnant women are like that."
He looks at me, puzzled. "Really? Like her?"
I nod.
He pauses. "I'll go check on the Web."
Men.
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I'm sitting alone in the living room now, staring at the pictures and magazines in the box Tomoyo labeled boldly and hugely, FOR WEDDING.
Her cake is huge and traditional, with a miniature, Japanese anime-chibi style mini-mes of her and Eriol on the top. It's chocolate. YES. Her bouquet is made up of roses and violets, and it's sooo fab. The wedding hall is sooo huge, and they've sent out around 300 invitations.
This is so not cool.
I'm ruining Tomoyo and Eriol's time. They should be organizing and planning happily, not helping me with my love life.
Not that this is the issue here. Ew.
"SAKURA!" Tomoyo bellows from the kitchen.
I flinch and hurry to her. "Yeah?" I gasp out.
"Change into my white Chanel gown upstairs," she orders, throwing her pot into the sink with a loud crash. "I don't want to cook."
"So-er- we're eating out?"
"Yep. Italian."
"Alright…"
She's got to stop having these mood swings and mind changes! It's like we're doing military drills or something.
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Around fifteen minutes after seven, we're seated in some posh restaurant near Plaza Hotel. I'm wearing Tomoyo's gorgeous white Chanel gown; it has shimmery layers with diamond patters. Tomoyo put her white Chanel heels on my feet and other things to make me shine… While she just wore a simple violet dress by Louis Vuitton.
Tomoyo is beside me and Eriol's across from her, without his tie for a change. The seat across from me is still empty.
"The bastard's late," fumes Tomoyo, ordering a bottle of champagne.
"Er- how 'bout just water?" I ask tentatively. She shoots me a look before draining her glass.
Eriol sighs. "At least it's not cocaine she has urges for." Tomoyo looks up. "Hey-"
"Sorry I'm late," comes a familiar voice from behind me. An equally familiar scent reawakens my senses. I twitch and slowly turn around. Syaoran's amber eyes are gazing into mine, as if reading my mind – again. I hate it when he does that. Does he do that to Emily, too?
"I understand; you probably had some things to take care of," says Tomoyo in a strained voice.
He looks at her quizzically before smiling. "I did."
Man. His crisp black shirt… His white jacket… My God. Why does he dress so good? Is he gay? Wait. He's dating that chick…
He pats Eriol's shoulder before sitting down beside him and across from me. "So.. what's the occasion?" he asks, looking around the table. I bite my lip and fidget with my fingers.
Eriol silently sips his champagne while Tomoyo fills Syaoran's glass. "I'm two months pregnant. Cheers," she smiles nonchalantly. Syaoran slowly nods his head and obeys, his eyes averting towards me.
"Congrats," he says to Tomoyo, but doesn't take his eyes off of me.
As we order and eat our meals, there is lots of talking between Syaoran and Eriol about work. Tomoyo and I roll our eyes and she whispers urgently to me about how I should tell him to dump Emily (because she's not a nice girl.) And halfway throughout dinner, Tomoyo suddenly bolts up from her chair. Eriol sighs knowingly. "What is it?"
"Come with me to the washroom."
"I'm not going into the ladies' washroom."
"Now."
"Okay." He glumly follows her towards the back of the restaurant.
Syaoran gapes at him, utterly shocked. "No way," he chuckles, mostly to himself. I merely shrug.
There's silence as he sips his champagne. Then he looks up at me meekly, placing his fork on his plate. "Sakura," he calls, making me choke on my chicken.
"Y- Yes?" I gulp it down painfully.
"Are you dating that security guy?" he asks, his eyes serious.
I blink. "Um, no…" I say slowly. "What happened yesterday.. was… unintentional," I blush.
He nods. "Well then," he says. More silence.
…Awkward…
Then something just itches to get out of me. "Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" I blurt out, immediately regretting it. It's Syaoran's turn to be dumbfounded. "Well, why would you care to know?"
"Because!" I stop myself from speaking further.
He raises his eyebrows. "Because?" His eyes search mine for answers, but I bolt up from my chair, breaking the eye contact.
"Well, here's one thing to ask; why'd you hire me?"
He looks dumbstruck, as if I'd just asked the most absurd question in the world. "Because… you're… interesting to be around?" he concludes lamely.
I scoff. "Interesting?"
The next thing I know, I slapped his cheek as hard as I could and stormed out of the restaurant.
I just hit my boss.
But I don't care anymore as I'm drenched by the rain outside. I start walking up the street, my makeup running down. Am I... crying?
Of course not! Why would I be? It's not like I like him or anything…
Although I was really scared when he cornered me at his office the other day… and said those weird things to me… And I listened to him and went to the gym… And I brought him all that crap the first day I met him – because I didn't have a choice! I should so not have had coffee that morning.
I sob out loudly, receiving weird looks from the people passing by. I slump down in the middle of the street, my wet hair falling down to my face.
Why do I feel so… dead?
So what if he has a girlfriend?
Why does it matter?
I don't know…
Ever since I met him, my life has been complicated... unpredictable… Unlike the predictable, same old life I had before… Is this good? Isn't this what I wanted? No… I don't want this… I don't know… I do and I don't…
I awaken from my thoughts as I feel something warm shield my body from the cold air.
A white jacket…
Syaoran's towering over me, his chestnut hair messier and wetter than ever. He wipes away raindrops from his face as he bends down towards me. "I'm sorry, Sakura…" he says loudly over the rain and the traffic. "I just.. I thought.. I thought we were friends."
Friends.
That's what we are.
Friends of friends of friends.
I sob louder as he brings me to my feet, clutching the jacket on my shoulders. "You are such a moron!" I cry out. And without planning it, without thinking about it, I rest my head against his shoulders, crying loudly.
And he just stands there, patting my back comfortingly.
It's too comforting to have him here… And I feel myself drifting off to sleep as two strong arms lift me up to a welcoming warmth…
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-Chapter 6 – Shopaholic Explodes? – END
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