Bea La Fea Novels & Stories

She looked tense now, shoulders slightly stiff beneath her uniform while her eyes remained lowered toward the desk. Something about her reaction unsettled him more than Phoebe’s words. Phoebe noticed the direction of his gaze immediately. “You should introduce us properly,” she said. Kael looked amused despite himself. “Elena, this is Phoebe Vale, future Saintess and professional creator of uncomfortable conversations.” He glanced toward Phoebe afterward. “Phoebe, this is Elena Hayes.” Elena managed a small nod. “It is nice to meet you.” Phoebe held her gaze carefully before returning the nod. “Likewise.”

The dress is lacy with long sleeves, scoop neck, studded with crystals till the waist, and flows down the floor from the waist. A long train is trailing behind the dress and it is so beautiful, Thea couldn't move her eyes away from it. "You like this one?" Darius approached from behind and looked at the dress she liked "Isn't it pretty?" She asked with aww. "You are the prettiest thing I can see here" he teased Thea. She blushed a pretty shade of pink. Darius groaned " that blush" he muttered. "I wish I could have my way with you now" he whispered hoarsely.

Jessi screamed on top of her voice ,she released from the hug and inspected Bea from head to her toes,she was glowing and healthy ,she hugged Beauty in tears,who also got emotional. Bae is nothing like she was before,she got this confidence that even I can't beat,I cam feel it already ,from her dressing which flattered her expensive curves and small waist to her make up and elegant way of talking now,Jessi was even teased by her,suddenly I want to have some fat and be identical with this thick Beauty,I never thought I would love to add a little fat one day. She looked towards me and our eyes met,I smiled in tears and went to her.

Before she had plastic surgery, she had an unpleasant nickname: "Monster Baek." But everything has changed, she has become a very beautiful girl. With her new face and the compliments she received, she felt very superior. However, she never admitted that she had had plastic surgery. That's how she changed. She always thinks that she has to be "the queen bee." She has to be the prettiest girl whenever she is, and she likes to make other girls feel insecure about themselves. She really likes to see other people cry because they can't be as beautiful or good as she is. In fact, all the photos she uploads on social media always show false and ridiculous Aegyo. However, when someone comments that

I'm sure I look mortified as I stand up, "Hi, my names Bec and I'm from Livingston" I look around the room as I speak. It's hard not to notice all the kids giving each other pointed looks. "Well hello Bec it's so nice to meet you darlin, you can take your seat again," her thick Texas accent is almost too overwhelming for me. Luckily, she launches straight into the class without any further questions. I pretend to follow along while subconsciously doing little drawings around my book, trying my hardest not to think about the boy with raven hair.

But that was hard, seeing as she just sat there looking out of space. Camila Brinx was indeed a fine and beautiful young woman, she was a role model to many girls and women, they aspired to have her calm and collected mindset. I've heard many girls discussing how beautiful she was and how much they admired the way she talked and carried herself. She was indeed remarkable, she has a light six pack and a beautiful hour glassed shape, not to mention her moisturized curly brunette hair.

All except one. A face that glared at me with a conceited smile. She had waited for this moment, she had waited to look me in the eyes with a calculative stare. Shania, drapes in a red polkadot gown and a black cashmere trenchcoat hanging over her shoulders. She let her ginger hair fall over shoulder with a braid at the two ends of her frontal. “Finally, we thought you were gonna have to cancel this meeting,” She smiled as though our argument yesterday never happened, like this was the first time we were speaking in months.

But the thought of more Scions, more eyes, more scrutiny made my stomach twist uneasily. “Of course, Your Highness,” Bastien said warmly. Then he turned toward the doorway behind him and called, “Mara, dear, could you give me a hand?” Not long after, another figure emerged from the back room. She was elderly too, though she carried herself with an easy grace that made her seem far younger than her years. Her dark hair had faded mostly to gray, gathered neatly at the back of her head, and her warm brown eyes softened the moment they landed on us.

“You know what kind of vibe I need. I want to say, ‘I’m hot, but professional. I’m elegant, but not too desperate. I’m forced to be here but still not completely miserable.’” “So… you want a dress that says, ‘help me, I’m being held hostage at a gala?’” Greta said, deadpan. “Yes! Exactly that vibe!” She sighed and got up, pulling a black satin gown off the rack. “Try this.” I held it up. It had a high slit, low back, and sparkled faintly under the lights. Dangerous. Sophisticated. Definitely not Elena-coded. “This screams ‘femme fatale’, not 'exhausted assistant forced to be her devil boss's arm candy'.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at me. I burst out laughing, “to give you a slight TMI, if there is one thing that is amazing about being a Fae, is that we don’t grow body hair anywhere but on our head, lashes and eyebrows.” Her jaw drops open, “You bitch that is so unfair! You know how many painful waxing appointments I’ve had to attend.” I giggle at her. “You’re right Serena. I do love him and It’s going to be inevitable if I want to stay with him.”