Chapter Four- The Private Princess

Monday, August 26, 2013
6:43 AM
Serrano Residence
Calabasas, CA

Bacon rendering fat infiltrated her room's barriers and caused her to rise.

Smiling, Catherine 'Charlie' DeMarco inhaled the heavenly smell, swearing she yearned for that more than a man's attention. She grabbed her off the shoulder sweater from her vanity where famous names were housed—Mac, Chanel, Marc, Ralph, Anastasia, Giorgio and descended the steps. She entered the kitchen and found her stepfather, Carlos Serrano, whom she called Father.

She owed Father a lot. At age six, he married her mother and guaranteed them both a privileged life. Indeed, she was a princess. Father kept her in the finest clothes, presented her with the expensive makeup brands, gifted her with extravagant trips at the drop of a hat, and gave her a weekday and weekend car when she turned the appropriate age. He treated her like his biological children, Carlito, older than her by two years, and Lucia, younger than her by three years, and, for the most part, they were a tight knit family. She knew Father's criminal activity, the ins and outs, too. His net worth was estimated at $300 million, and she participated—behind the scenes only. When mother passed away because of injuries sustained in a massive car pile up on the 405 freeway, he didn't turn his back on her, send her to CPS or to live with family.

She was unsure if he found her to be an asset or because he sincerely cared for her.

That was a mystery.

Father's head rose from his tablet that stored all the details to his operation. "Ah," his face and eyes lit like a Christmas tree upon her arrival, "good morning, Charlie. Come, sit, eat with me."

She came and kissed his cheek, her customary greeting. "Good morning, Father. Where's Ms. Irma?" She looked around to see where the kind maid had gone; the pan used to cook the bacon looked like it was just turned off.

"She's in the laundry room," he replied with a smile.

There was indeed a breakfast spread on the granite counter top: mushroom omelettes, hash browns, cooked to perfection bacon and pork sausage, and homemade biscuits with Ms. Irma's famous honey butter.

Charlie brewed coffee, grabbed an extra cup and orange juice from the fridge and sat with him at the kitchen island. She piled her plate with two omelettes, a heaping scoop of hash browns, three bacon strips, three pork sausage links and she slathered two biscuits with the honey butter, a meal fit for a queen to an outside eye but an appetizer for her. She ate with gusto.

"You eat so much... where do you put it," he joked, sipping his amaretto coffee. He looked at her and believed she was 115 pounds soaking wet.

Mid-bite, she gawked at him. If any other person said that to her, she would've have gave them a severe tongue lashing and hurled accusations. Not with Father, she took what he said as a compliment and formed a cheesy smile on her face strategically. "Just hungry."

He grabbed the cloth napkin resting by his plate and wiped around his mouth. "I need you to operate the club tonight," he appointed her rather than his children comprised with his DNA.

"Are you sure," she asked, gripping her fork for support. "What about Lucia or Carlito?"

"Lucia's too soft, and Carlito, I don't trust him if my life depended on it," he confessed.

"What," she yelped, not about the Carlito part because she held the same sentiment, but Lucia's skin was tough, and she had the smarts.

"Calmate," Carlos motioned for her to lower her voice. "She is tough, but not as tough as you. I want you to be in charge, while I'm gone in Mexico because I trust and believe you have the ability to take matters into your own hands."

Charlie wanted to contest because the criminal lifestyle he's preset collided with the new path she was trying to form.

Not to mention, everything that's occurred in her life was taking a toll on her body.

Father's first wife, Carlito and Lucia's mother, passed away from pancreatic cancer, and a couple of years later he met her mom and fell madly in love. Her mother died when she was nine, and he was extremely heartbroken and made the decision to never marry again, a nice homage, but, and this was a big but, his attitude and demeanor towards the children, except for Charlie, changed drastically. He altered, many times under alcohol's influence, sampling his own products or just because, to a tyrant. He became methodical, diabolical, unmerciful and he conditioned the children to be the same way.

Emotionless exhibited control and strength.

Each time, in Father's stupor, Charlie hid in her bedroom, casting herself away. Even in the depths of her room, she overheard the traumatizing screams escaping her terrified step-siblings. When Father's voice reached an all time high and tauntingly bounced around her like it was real, she knew what came next—the corn kernels. Though she'd never be on the receiving end, which she never understood but was thankful for, she sympathized with them.

While praying for their torture to end, there would be a knock on her door.

She remembered this because it was tattooed in her brain.

Apprehensive, she walked to the door and see her father, drenched in sweat, his face consumed with remorse. She granted him entrance, he walked to her bed, his steps solemn and spent. He turned and slid. His straight and elongated body, for once, permitted to slump. She watched him carefully, unsure what to do. He'd gesture for her to come, and she obeyed.

'Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento,' he cried, his shoulders convulsed and he was soft like a furry, newborn kitten.

'Father, it's okay,' she promised, her voice small.

Wiping his tears, he stood and walked away, as if nothing had happened. Ten minutes, on the dot, later, she approached 'the room'. She opened the door, the hallway's lights the only illumination shone, and saw the two knelt on the serrated cruxes with their hands interlinked behind their heads, their stoic faces positioned towards the wall. Nothing escaped their lips, not a whimper, a dramatic inhale, a hiss, nothing. She admired their courage. She, then, helped them get to her room. In there, she played mother, talking to them soothingly, defending Father's actions, avowing everything was going to be okay. She also tended to their injuries, even though some kernels were unsalvageable because they were too anchored in their skin.

She was the mother, a role way beyond her years, not just to Carlito and Lucia, but to Father as well. To cope, she ate, her favorite, satisfying activity, but gained weight, to lose, she vomited, which eventually led to a vicious cycle, binge and purge. She's been engaged in the harmful activity for the past three years and no one around her knew.

No one.

"Charlie," Carlos's hand reached out to her's, a coffee cup rested in his free hand. "You, you can. I still don't understand why you need to go to school. School takes away from the family business."

He reminded her school started today; she almost forgot.

"Father, it's something I need to do for myself," she defended her choice. "I thought you were okay, since you paid for me to attend."

"I just want to see my princessa happy, are you?"

I'm dying, she admitted privately. "Yes, Father, I am," she lied instead.

"For me to be happy, I want you to handle the strip club for the two weeks I'm gone and have Lucia addition the new dancer," he allowed his other daughter to do that task.

"What about Carlito," she asked, caressing his hand back. After everything he's done for her, she was left with no choice but to comply with his taxing demand.

"Carlito is on thin ice with me," he revealed banefully, releasing her hand, "but, I'm giving him one more chance to make me see him in a different light. He has a meeting with the Lee family, hailing from Korea, tonight. If he secures this deal, then you'll be able to concentrate just on school." He looked at his watch. "Excuse me, I have to leave now." He gathered his belongings. "Charlie, aseguarse de que está protegido, por favor." He kissed her temple. "Tonight a new bouncer starts. I need you to show him the ropes."

Charlie agreed. She watched him meet with a driver, suitcases in his hand, and the two walked out the door. The coast was clear, so her eyes concentrated on the food. Father's additional pressure weighed on her shoulders, making her feel heavier than she already did. She packed more food onto her plate and demolished ravenously. She didn't stop, not even when her jaw surged with pain from the plentiful chews. She chugged her, now, chilled coffee and juice. Full, she exited her chair to head to the bathroom.

"I think I smell Irma's biscuits," Carlito, already attired for success, sang joyfully, coming down the intricately decorated staircase. He met his step-sister at the bottom. "Oh it's you," he sounded unimpressed with her appearance.

"Oh it's you," she mocked him with a glare. He huffed, remaining in place. "Get out my way, ahora!"

"Habla español repentinamente," he commented snidely, fixing the gilded cuff links on his dress shirt.

"Parlo Italiano troppo, qual é il punto," she challenged, growing impatient. If this food didn't get out of her system soon, it hit her stomach and thighs, and she'd really knock him out.

"Papa already told me. For the next two weeks, you're the boss, but I will tell you now, stay the fuck out of my way!"

The Charlie-Carlito kinship was odd. One minute, they were at the each other's throats, the next minute, they defended each other if someone was to threaten either of them. Carlito's was envious. It stemmed from how Charlie was treated. An additional factor to their duality was the close relationship she shared with Lucia. As much as Charlie tried to explain Father's actions to her stepbrother, although she didn't understand them either, he blamed her presence for being the reason why he was often punished in the first place.

"Straight but not narrow," she mocked him.

He knew what she meant. "You fucking bitch!"

Enraged, his arms sprung towards her, promising he was going to make her take back that comment. She countered swiftly by ducking and twisting her lithe body around. She struck his back with fury filled swipe, inflicting pain that radiated from his spine down. He screeched, his back muscles diverging. Before his arms could drop to the floor, she grabbed his wrists, further disabling him. Her knee punctured his back roughly in conjunction with pulling his arms to the point cracking noises were heard.

"Don't you dare try me, you asshole," she snapped. She digested food, three times the amount her stomach could hold, and sloshed around violently, causing her body to jerk. The telling liquid began to rise, and she hunched forward. She released him, her hands blanked her mouth in the next second.

Relieving his muscles, swearing she was a little bitch, he faced her. "What's wrong with you?" He, at first, didn't care, but when she became eerily quiet, his face became alarmed. He bent to her level. "Charlie?"

She smacked his hand and him away and ran up the stairs to her bathroom.

8:52 AM
Graceland University
Los Angeles, CA

After the spat with Carlito, she vomited in her shower, which sounded gross, but she was in a time crunch. She hadn't calculated the distance from home to university in totality. After purging as much as she could, cleaning the shower and her body, she exited, blow dried her hair barely, applied enough makeup that made her look alive and dressed in a flash. She headed downstairs, saw the maid cooked more food, grabbed a bite and car keys to her silver Land Rover Range Rover, her weekend car, and drove. On the way, she bulldozed through her second breakfast, but during a little bout with traffic, she began to regret and even thought about pulling over to vomit but didn't.

Right now, she parked her car in section P, grabbed all she needed and ran to the bathroom in the social sciences wing. She checked, ensuring the place was vacant. She stepped in a stall and got on her knees. Because her body was trained she opened her mouth only. Biscuit chunks, bacon slivers, chewed sausage, mashed hash browns and yellowish bile expelled. Due to the force, she knew, her insides were most likely ripping, all the stomach acid ruining her esophagus lining, and her body tipping towards exhaustion, yet she continued. She'd deal with consequences later. She coughed several times before hacking again. Thought to be done, she stood, ready to flush, but she wasn't done. More, like a an operatic crescendo, was coming, she braced herself and spurted more into the toilet.

Without warning, a woman rapped on the stall's door. "Hello, everything okay in there?"

"Yeah," Charlie exhaled. She cleaned up the best she could and flushed. It took two times because the food clogged the toilet. She smoothed her clothes quickly and exited. The woman, a tall blonde with striking good looks, had inquired about her status. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure," she questioned for the second time, following her to the sinks.

Charlie started to wash her hands. "I am, uh," she needed to come up with a lie, a believable lie, "morning sickness," she blurted. Soon after, she regretted it.

"Oh," the woman responded. "How far along are you?"

"Uh, six weeks," Charlie laughed nervously. "I got class. Bye." She exited, blowing out a calming breath and headed to room 212. She was surprised to see a male teacher. Breathless, she took the closest seat, coincidentally right in front. He called her legal name. "It's Charlie," she corrected, uncaring to what the students thought about her nickname.

"You're late, Charlie."

She pursed her lips together, not liking he was making her tardiness any more obvious than necessary. "Excuse me," she rose her hand. "Are we in high school?"

"No, we're in college. What's your point," the teacher combated.

Deflecting her anger from Carlito towards him coupled with irritability, one of bulimia's after effects, she laid it on him pretty thick, bruising whatever ego he had.

"Charlie is it?" She nodded. "See me after class," he ordered.

"Whatever," was her response and she leaned in her chair.

He finished the roll call, then went over the syllabus, which Charlie guessed would take the rest of the class' duration to finish.

While bored, she watched him intently. She wasn't sure if it was the way his full lips flapped, or the way determination drowned his brown orbs, or the fact his nicely shaven beard-goatee was two toned, or the way he handled her shit talking effortlessly, or the sudden need for him to grab her and take her on his desk, the classroom be damned, that made her want to loathe him.

Did I really think that, she chided herself.

"Who's phone is that," Professor Briggs questioned, looking around.

"Shit," Charlie murmured, realizing it was her phone chiming boisterously. She saw it was her sister calling, but forwarded the call, since her teacher was practically breathing like a just woken out it's slumber dragon. She turned her phone to silent and ignored the look plastered across his face.

"Alright, now in this class, you are expected to..." the professor continued.

As he spoke, Charlie bemoaned the seat she chose, since she couldn't text instead. Not only that, but she wondered what the hell Lucia could want so early in the morning. She waited for the period to be over with, so she could at least send a message via the keyboard prior to her talk with him, but that was impossible. Once the class filed out, the teacher approached her desk and expected their conversation to start promptly.

She groaned, annoyed. Furthermore, she was craving sustenance all over again."What do you want?!" She narrowed her eyes a bit. "Do you want a sorry? Will that uncurl your panties that are in a twist? Will that get you off my back?"

If she allowed him to get a word in edgewise, he'd be more than happy to excuse her. Possibly, she was going through something. Since, she wanted to talk shit, he prolonged their meeting."I'm not on your back," he opposed.

"Are you sure," she retorted, crossing her arms, not even looking him in the eye.

He sat on the desk-chair to her left, tapped her table to get her attention and waited for her to face him. She did. "What I would like is for you to adjust your attitude, maybe, take it down a notch, or two or ten," he wisecracked.

"His never," she mumbled under her breath. She took a deep and calming breath. "Mr. Paul Briggs is it," Charlie began.

"Paul or Briggs," he interrupted, correcting her, but recanted soon after, realizing that was wrong and crossed an unspoken teacher-student boundary. He took a deep breath. "Mr. Briggs."

"Okay, Briggs," that name unfolded with the intention to spite him, but she thought about something. He was so free, casual, beyond casual, unlike other college professors. "This is your first teaching gig. Isn't it," she delved for some teacher. He started to chuckle nervously, which, to her, sounded like he was caught. She became a little more interested. "Is it?" Seeing that he wasn't going to give a simple yes or no answer, she pressed harder. She leaned towards him, her body sprawled across his desk. "If it is, your secret's safe with me."

At first, he was intrigued, a slight provocation, but this was wrong, way wrong, but it felt so right. He laid down the law readily. "Charlie," he exited the desk. "I don't want another incident like this again."

"This," she gestured with a hand between herself and him, "like you possibly liking me as more than a student?" She challenged. 'Oh God', she heard him mutter.

He shook his head profusely. "No, I mean, this morning. I don't want another incident like this morning, and please, silence your phone prior coming to class."

"Right," she played his game. "Is that it?" She waited, her fingernails tapping her desk methodically.

He cleared his throat. "Yes," he nodded, excusing her.

She abandoned her chair. Before departing, she looked at him again. "Can't wait for the next class, Briggs." She left, smiling. She extracted her phone from her purse to see Lucia texted her a long message about Carlito messing with her Infiniti, her car she drove during the weekdays. She headed to the nearest smoking section, where her sister was, to find out more.

"Charlie," Lucia called her, ecstatic.

Unlike Carlito, Lucia and her were close. If anyone were to tell them they weren't sisters, they'd look at them crazy. Lucia didn't remember much of her birth mom, and she adored Charlie's mother, who treated her like her own. After they both passed, Lucia admired Charlie as both a motherly and sisterly figure. She displayed more loyalty to her than her own brother.

Charlie saw Lucia wasn't alone. She was with some vato, a clean cut vato.

The two women broke away.

"So, what happened with my car, and why weren't you in yours," Charlie had to get this straight.

"I had to go to the mall to stock the dressing rooms," Lucia started, since that was her primary job at Silver Sins. She was the house mom; she helped put on their make up, chose what clothes they needed to where, helped them count their money and took the cut for the business. She did quite a bit, more than people gave her credit for. "But my car had no gas, so I saw your Infiniti was still there, so I drove it. It started making a noise, and the tire popped. I called Carlito, suspecting he had something to do with it an-"

"I don't need to hear anymore... he could have killed one of us," Charlie smoldered. It had to do with this morning, she supposed, and she'd deal with him later, possibly at the club. "Are you okay?" She examined her, making sure she wasn't hurt in any way.

Her sister nodded. "Don't worry, I had Reuben take the car to the shop," she informed.

Lucia was so precise. Charlie didn't understand why Father didn't see that. If he did, then Lucia would be in charge for the next two weeks, and she'd be left to concentrate on school, so she could get her nurse's degree. "So, who's the kid?"

"Oh, his name is Johnny, and he tried to help, but couldn't because Carlito took the spare and tools out."

"Pendejo," Charlie cursed. "Here," she grabbed her car keys because Lucia needed to get around some how. "My car's in section P towards the middle by a tall tree. Think you can find it?" Once more, Lucia bobbed her head. "You know, Father isn't going to like you dating."

"Yeah, but he seems different," Lucia vouched, taking an honest liking to Johnny. "Maybe, Papá will like him." She took her sister's keys and walked back over to Johnny.

Charlie watched the two interact. It wasn't that she wasn't happy for her sister or she dissuaded her from finding love. Father always said he needed to meet the man or woman, prior to his children dating. That's one reason she hasn't been in a relationship in years. She waved goodbye to Lucia and made eye contact with Johnny.

"My sister likes you," she revealed.

"Is that a big thing," he queried.

"I'm still trying to figure that out, "she replied. He, too, seemed smitten by her, but Father wouldn't like that, but knowing her sister, she'd find a way to date him. She warned Johnny. "Just know, if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

She walked away, bound to be late meeting her only friend in the world, Cassandra, if she continued to speak to him. There was an imperative matter on her mind, and that was how to deal with Carlito's bullshit. She heard Johnny's attempts to stop her, but kept on her way. She saw Cassandra with a guy she's never seen before and cursed internally.

Cassandra was a serial dater and had the worst taste in men. Already thinking this was bad, she had to know his intentions.

"What about you, huh," Charlie she interrogated.

"What," the man with dreads asked.

Cassandra walked up to her best friend, surmising she was agitated because she was hungry. "Dale's nice. We were just talking; he wanted to know where the social sciences building was."

"Your name's Dale," Charlie asked him. She scrutinized Dale's appearance. Though his dreads were longer than her hair, his beard was a little wild like he hadn't shaved in days, she found him to be Cassandra's type to the tee. Still, she didn't know the exact number, but she's cried many times on her shoulder. Before Dale got the approval to date Cassandra, she had to make one thing straight. Before Johnny could even speak to Father to get the okay to date Lucia, she had to reiterate what she told him . "If you hurt Cassandra, and if you," she twisted to see Johnny, "hurt Lucia, I'll chop both your dicks off with my hands and feed it to my canes."

Her friend hissed her name, most probably embarrassed. After saying goodbye, Cassandra asked the question that's been on her mind. "Have you eaten yet?"

It was no big deal, Cassandra didn't know about her battle with ED.

Charlie nodded she had, which was true; it just didn't stay in her system.

03:31 PM

So far, she's fed her addiction, literally, five times today, which meant she's vomited five times. Most likely, she'd eat another three times, then throw up another three times. That's just how it went.

Charlie had been waiting outside the social sciences building for the last ten minutes. She wanted to apologize to Briggs for how she acted earlier. After thinking about it, she made a horrible first impression. She was being brash for no apparent reason. If she saw the other two guys, Johnny and Dale, she would also say sorry to them too. She saw Briggs coming out the classroom, so she met with him on 'accident'.

"Charlie," Briggs was a little surprised. He shifted his briefcase from one and to the other. "Are you a full time student?"

"Um, yeah, sort of," she stalled a bit. "Briggs," she pulled a stray tendril behind her ear, a couple hairs cascaded. She looked up at him.

He stared down at her. So late in the day, he noticed her makeup sweated off and saw there were mountainous gray bags beneath her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just, um, I just want to say sorry for how I acted," she apologized sincerely, while toggling with her purse's strap.

"That's nice of you, and I accept your apology." A smile crept on his face, but her appearance made him concerned. There was a pause. "Walk with me," he gestured. She followed. "What are you still doing here?"

"Just waiting for my ride..." when he cocked his head, she gave an vague explanation. "It's a long story."

"Do, you... need one," he offered.

His big brown eyes foretold he was serious. As a nervous quirk, she bit her lip.

Before replying, her phone rang. She was thankful for the interruption, since she would have told him yes. That was fraternization at it's finest. "Hello," she answered, her eyes roaming.

"I'm in front of the library."

Lucia ended up coming a half an hour earlie than said. If she was like Carlito, Charlie would have ripped into her verbally and physically, but she wasn't. Other than Cassandra, Lucia was the only female by her side.

"I'll be there in a little." She hung the phone up. "I'll take a rain check. I gotta head to work, see you next class." She turned to walk away, this little apology was showy.

"If you don't mind me asking," Briggs stopped her, extending his hand just enough to tenderly grasp her wrist. "Where do you work?"

She scoffed playfully, while a jolt ran rampantly beneath her skin. "Silver Sins," she replied.

"Where and what is that exactly?"

"If you want to see me later you'll find out," she stated cryptically and left. She strode away. Two thing crossed her mind, when out his way, she was horrible at flirting, and she knew she was in deep trouble.

Father would hate him.

6:55 PM
Silver Sins
West Covina, CA

Sixth and seventh session done.

Her long hair whirled into flawless waves, her curves accentuated by a body hugging, black and white color-blocked dress, her feet decorated with stilettos, and her makeup applied heavier but perfectly, Charlie strode her Father's office to administer an interview for the potential dancer. After done here, she would speak to the new bouncer. She sat on her Father's chair and crossed her legs seductively. She gestured for Lucia, dressed similarly, to get the woman. She saw the folder marked with the woman's name nearby and opened it. Her jaw dropped.

"Charlie, here she is," Lucia informed, bringing applicant inside.

Charlie brought her head up. "Hello, Paige."

The Next Chapter- Paige Arkin, The Abnegating Appeal