Polished Smiles Novels & Stories

I plaster on a smile. "No, everything is fine."

" Rila, the MUA answered. “Masya Allah, is it because you make up the smart ones or you are really pretty Saz? You are so beautiful ”Sinta joked while hitting Saskia's back slowly. Saskia shook her head, confused about the treatment of three college friends who are now sitting snapping the camera on her cellphone, taking pictures of them with Saskia many times.

And then— She smiled. Not the tired, brittle smile she’d been offering for days. Not the forced, brave one. This was a true smile, slow and genuine, blossoming on her face, reaching her eyes, making them sparkle with something akin to joy, to peace. The shadows that had haunted them seemed to recede, replaced by a soft, internal light.

"You look like you would be into arts. With the way you dance, you definitely belong to the arts." I hear her scoff. Even her lean shoulders shake in amusement. She's laughing at me right now, and I swear, that's the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Her dentition is everything! Starting from how white it looks against the lights, how well-chiseled it is, and her healthy gums and well-aligned teeth. I want to snatch her by the waist and give her a wet kiss. But, I restrain myself from doing so. I know what'll come next.

Phil smiled, that beautiful, innocent smile that lit up his whole face. My son's smile.

Her lips tilted in a lope-sided smile before she shook her head slightly, then took a step towards me before bending gracefully and retrieving my back for me. By now, my face was a mess of tears and snort, chunk a jumble of heavy glam makeup to the mix. She straightened up and smiled at me, her eyes staring back into mine as her lips opened to relieve her infamous pearly white smile that could warm up the New York cold.

A woman stood behind it, polished to perfection, with a smile as sharp as her tailored suit. "Good morning," I said, the words almost catching in my throat. Her eyes flicked over me, assessing. Judging. The smile stayed on her face, but it felt thinner now, like it might snap if she stretched it any further. "Morning," she replied smoothly, her tone polite but detached. "Do you have a reservation?" "Yes, under Roman Lennox." The moment his name left my lips, her demeanor shifted like I’d flipped a switch. The air around her warmed, and her smile turned genuine—no, reverent.

She says smiling. A smile spread across Jason's face, showing those dimples and his pearly white teeth. I'm used to those little smiles and smirks that he does. This is the first time I actually seen him genuinely smile. "Well, how do I look now?" He asks smiling at the little girl.

More like the fake smiles delivered by supermodels and wannabe celebrities. The compère's still blathering on… "… and a special welcome to his lovely new wife, Elizabeth Haswell. A big hand, everyone, for Elizabeth!" The spotlight shifts and lands on me… Cameras flash from all directions… … and after a moment of sheer frozen terror, I plaster on a facsimile of the smile my Master just gave, nodding around to the cameras. His smile has vanished, replaced by a passing cloud of fury before his face falls calm again. Across the table, Irene flinches, then stares at me, cat-eyed.

“Lucas?!” Her eyes darted back to him, wide with wonder, and for a fleeting moment. She was stunned. He smiled at her, a real one this time. Not the polite curve of lips he offered in public, not the controlled half-smirk that masked his thoughts, but a rare, unguarded smile that reached his eyes. Arabella’s breath caught, and before she could help it, she smiled back. She looked so much younger in that moment wide-eyed, beaming, childlike, as if the weight she carried had momentarily vanished.