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Latest chapter. It may seem rushed but I'm trying to figure out how I want this next section ofmy story to read. All feedback would be helpful. I've been having technical difficulties lately with my internet.
Anyway, Please Review
Confessions of a Potter Princess XI
Lana, Lulu Theodora and I sat in the lush chintz chairs of the Rosaire hotel women's lounge. Bored out of our minds at the French Interior Minister's ball, we decided to do some lines in the powder room. Lana and I both had the same reason for snorting the cocaine, losing weight, Lulu liked it, because it helped take her mind off her screwed up family life and Theodora, well she did it because she could really.
I felt the effects after a minute or two, the excited, adrenaline rushing feeling and seemingly boundless energy. This is maybe only the second time I've used it. I was too scared to try it last month in Cannes, but when I saw I wasn't losing the weight fast enough, I figured it was worth a shot.
At least maybe now this stuffy old ball won't be so boring. We freshen up just a bit and walk back into the ballroom, giggling insanely. Its funny how all dressed up in Chanel or Valentino gowns, you wouldn't suspect that we were high. Only, really that we were four gorgeous, privileged young girls having fun, enjoying a night of tasteful elegance. With our hair done up in chignons and our faces painted in classic makeup, it was hard to believe each of us had done something so impure.
I loved high-society really. It was so fun, like being a muggle actress, so fun to pretend and wave and smile and be a little porcelain doll.
Faking it was easier than people think. At least then I was in control.
My family had been crazy lately and Colton was always watching me to make sure I was eating or whatever. Plus all the fittings for the couture shows, combined with running around all over the place setting up a boutique and marketing my resort wear line really messed with a girl's head.
I didn't care though; finally I was losing weight, real significant weight. The only thing that made me calm was seeing the scale register less and less. Reed Branson, the photographer for my Balenciaga ad, was always complementing on my new figure. He was a world-renowned photographer, he had photographed the most beautiful people in the world, and he knew what a great body was.
Lately, the paparazzi had been even more eager to photograph me. Usually I don't mind being photographed, but it had become insane. Paparazzi stalked me as I went for a jog in the nearby park or as I shopped. But it wasn't so much the pictures as it was the headlines. All showed what I'm sure were digitally re-mastered photos of me as being emaciated, but there is no way they could have been me. I'm still way too fat to look like that.
Some of the stuff people made up about me were so crazy I almost wished it were true. I was apparently set to star in the next music video for the hot new band The Faux Pas fronted by my brother, lead singer and backup guitarist Jude James Potter. Big in both the muggle and magical world, they were known for putting on a killer show, magically of course.
But it gets even better. Apparently I'm pregnant with lead guitarist Julian Hill's baby but sleeping with the married drummer John Gray, both of whom I've known for years because they went to school with my brother. Then of course there's the even better report of I'm sleeping with everyone in the band including my brother. Umm eww!
Then there was the: I'm going to elope with the young Prince of Monaco to our own private island in the Caribbean because the King and Queen don't approve of me rumor. Yeah, went to summer camp with the Prince one time, cute but probably gay. Honestly what twelve year old boy brings a flat iron to summer camp.
The clock strikes midnight and we tear out of the hotel like deranged Cinderellas with some guys we met. Ripping off our ball gowns as the valet brings around Theodora's silver Aston-Martin one of the guys jumps at the chance to drive the sports car. We zoom along the Parisian streets and let our hair down out of the tight chignons. Five minutes later we pull up in front of Paris' best nightclub.
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Later
My heart feels like its eating itself. My body's numb and bolts of lightning are shooting through my head as I sit in the VIP lounge of Bisou Bisou after doing more lines of coke with Lulu and a couple of guys we met about an hour ago.
I giggle when I feel one of the guys slip his hands under the back of my shirt and the other creep his hands up my miniskirt. I know this is wrong and it doesn't even feel good but I'm so high out of my mind right now I don't give a fuck.
"Charlotte! - there your are" Colton rushes towards me his face a mix of fury and despair
He pushes the hands of the men away from me and grabs my arm to pull me up off the loveseat.
"Colton leave alone, I don't wanna go home yet" I whine pulling away from his grasp weakly
"Charlotte, lets go we're leaving." He tightens his grip
"No, Colton, come on, do a line, the party's just getting started" I say carelessly, my visions blurred and I'm stumbling on my words
"Let's go" he insists
"At least, let me get another drink, the last one's wearing off"
"I think you've had quite enough"
"NO let me go, I'll tell you when I've had enough" I yell tired of his shit. I'm just trying to have a good time. Why won't anyone let me have fun anymore?
"Fine, you know what Charlotte, do what you want, I don't give a fuck anymore" he yells back roughly and let go of my arm. I fall backwards onto the loveseat atop Lulu and the guys. We explode into raucous laughter.
I wake up next to a man I recognize as Gerard Arlington, an English shipping heir, in a hotel room. I gather my things together and dress hurriedly then apparate back to my bedroom in my flat just a few blocks away.
My heads pounding and my skin is clammy. I shower and am about to dress again before heading to work, but not until I give myself a full body inspection again. I pull at the skin on my ribs and the flesh of my stomach. The bile rises up in my throat when I feel the fat that despite my best efforts still lingers there.
I don't understand. I don't eat breakfast or lunch and I eat dinner only when I have too. I've been running nine miles a day and then going out dancing at night.
It doesn't matter though I'm still a failure.
I don't really know what happened last night, other than I slept with Gerard and that I was out celebrating the fact that my healer said I wasn't pregnant, even though I hadn't had my period for a while now. He asked if I was eating, I told him I was half-Weasley, of course I ate.
I look at my clock and see that I still have twenty minutes before I have to be at work. Maybe I can go running. I'll have to sprint the entire time if I'm going to burn any calories in only twenty minutes, but I can try.
It frustrates me, I've been so dedicated. I tacked up pictures of me in the tabloids as reminders of how fat I was as motivations, next to pictures of the supermodels I dressed. I had begun counting the calories in everything; I was even trying to limit how much toothpaste I used. I wore layers of clothing to disguise my problem areas, like my pudgy belly and fat arms, plus I was always freezing even in the ninety degree weather.
I change again, this time into a Juicy Couture sweatsuit and lace up my trainers. I walk down the hallway where I see Delilah and Colton sitting in the living room whispering to each other. They stop though when they hear my footsteps.
"Hi guys what's going on" I said suspiciously
"Nothing, um Delilah just came over to get some legal advice" Colton said tersely.
He may have been a lawyer i.e. a good liar but I had known him since I was born practically, he couldn't fool me, though I didn't understand what the attitude was all about.
"No, we should tell her the truth" Delilah said to Colton "She isn't herself and she needs help now"
"Tell me what- wait why do I need help, what the fuck is going on here" I demanded
"Take a look in the mirror" Colton said grabbing me and pushing me in front of the full-length mirror in the guest bathroom.
I peer at my reflection and pull on the chubby skin of my cheeks. I look a little tired maybe, but as far as I'm concerned that's nothing a little concealer can't fix. Other than the fat along my chin and shoulders I don't see anything wrong.
"Charlotte- you've got to stop this. You're starving yourself; if you don't stop you'll make yourself sick."
"You stop, I'm perfectly fine. I don't know why everyone is so worried about me. I mean really, so I've dropped a few pounds big deal"
"Charlotte- what is this" Delilah demanded coming back into the room with a clear vile of cocaine
"Did you go through my things?" I yelled back. Everyone was attacking me, I couldn't take it anymore.
"Go through your things, it was lying on your bedside table. Charlotte, listen to me, answer me, truthfully, are you using it" Delilah said sitting me down on the couch. I felt like a two year old as she spoke softly and slowly.
"I've tried it a few times with friends, It's totally not an issue"
"Bullshit, Charlotte, you were on it last night" Colton interrupted.
"Last night-"
"Don't tell me you don't even remember. Fuck I can't believe this. Listen to me Charlotte, you can't keep doing this. You're losing control. You don't remember what you said to me and I don't blame you. But your fucking killing yourself, do you not understand that!"
"Understand what, I've got plenty of control, so just leave me the fuck alone. Besides it was just for the couture show and the show is tomorrow. I promise I'll stop then." I replied. All the yelling was giving me a headache; I just wanted this to stop. I needed to work out or something. I can't deal with this.
I walk over to the bar and empty the bottle of Ketel One on the counter into a crystal tumbler. It may only be ten in the morning but time means nothing now. My hands are shaking as I raise the glass to my lips, but I'm dizzy and the glass is too heavy. It slips from my hands and shatters on the floor.
Splintering into a million pieces, I feel as if it is the bones of my wrist. I fall to the floor in despair and grab my shoulders hugging myself. My shoulders feel like bird skulls so tiny and bony, grasped too tightly they'll be crushed to pieces.
How could this happen to me? Me, who had so much control over my life, who was just now finally finding something to make me happy. Didn't they see that? Didn't they get that losing weight made me happy? Don't they want me to be happy?
I feel warm arms around my waist, followed by a warm solid body, shielding me as I choke on my own tears. Big, strong hands envelope my waif-like figure and soft, nurturing murmurs of "It'll be okay" make me realize how out of control my life in the past six weeks had become.
I finally understood.
Shocking Pictures!
Charlotte's Silent Starvation
Charlotte Potter fashion designer and socialite has lost a reported 35 pounds in just one month. This puts the 5'9" redhead at 95 pounds an extremely unhealthy weight.
How thin is too thin?
The latest victim of the pressures of the fashion industry Charlotte Potter, model, designer, and socialite has been speculated of drug and or alcohol abuse to lose weight.
Friendly Anorexia
Charlotte Potter and Lulu Flowers celebrity friends out every night, partying, drinking, starving!
These headlines had littered the tabloids for weeks. They weren't as unreal as I had once perceived. For weeks, it had been draining to even make it up the stairs of my building. I had in fact had to nap for hours on end. The only thing that kept me awake was the cocaine. Working all day, drinking and partying all night, it had taken its toll on my body.
Couture Show
"We're going to have to re-fit this. I'll take it in here, here and here. Don't move I'll poke you" Gates said to me sighing as my now ill-fitting gown was pulled closer to my body. Even he had approached me about my emaciated corpse.
After yesterday's breakdown, I had a long talk with Delilah and Colton. They agreed to let me do the show and not tell my family about the drugs, if I agreed to take some time off and take care for myself afterwards. This morning I had traded in the coke for espresso to keep me awake and was now being refitted for my outfits for the couture show since I had lost five more pounds since the last fitting. Colton took the scale out of the bathroom, but it puts me at approximately 97 pounds.
"There you're finished, take a break, or better yet grab a snack" he said giving me a quick hug and a soft kiss on the cheek before running off.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My clavicles could cut glass. My hipbones are like razor-blades and cheeks and eyes sunken. They had used to tons of makeup to make me beautiful. My hair had become lackluster and eyes dull, but makeup and my very own glamour charms really did make all the difference. The sad part was that I wasn't even the skinniest model here.
Ten minutes later I stood in line amongst probably twenty other gaunt women. I was so lucky that the couture show was so serious. I could channel all my inner turmoil into fierce, raw emotion. Dressed in intricate black lace and other clothes of dark mysterious artistry, I was like a living statue of ambiguity.
The show truly is incredible. It's such a different vibe than just a fashion show. This wasn't about who was sitting in the front row with whom, this was about serious fashion. This was beyond clothing this was wearable art.
Only Delilah and Colton had come to see me. My Dad and Cal were in the States for Quidditch. Jude was on a European underground club-scene tour, right now he was playing in Dublin. Maxim couldn't get time off work, and Mom was busy with the little ones. It was fine though.
I pose at the end of the runway and flashbulbs flicker incessantly. The lights make me dizzy and I'm trying to focus on just making it back stage again. I put one foot in front of the other again and again. Every step takes that much more effort though. I lift my foot up to take another step but my muscles are yearning for me to stop and I can't seem to see where I'm going anymore. Finally I recognize that I'm no longer on the runway and feel people tugging on me, pulling on my clothes.
But it's too much. I feel myself falling, fainting and I black out, collapsed on the floor.
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