I Can't Love you, Mr. President

One

"Stunning! Perfect! Another one! Wonderful!" The photographer flattered as I posed, the flashes of the camera nearly blinded me, "You're a natural, Ms Kourus!" he cheered before dropping the camera after I had given the signal to stop.

"Azura is fine, I insist," I managed a smile, shaking his firm hand, I need to catch a break let's continue later."

"Of course! We can't have you looking tired on our cover," he smiled, starstruck he seemed too but he composed himself more than others I have met.

I made my way out of the studio, a drink in hand as I strutted down the hallway. It was quite a lovely day, indeed. The sun had never been brighter for the first time, the man handling the photoshoot was so sweet, as the rest of the staff, making me feel truly at home.

As I walked down the hall, my body hit something similar to a large boulder, my drink pouring all over my robe instantly ruining my day.

"Can't you see!?" I yelled at the man; I didn't bother to take much notice of his apologetic look.

"I'm very sorry, my sincerest apologies," he pleaded. As he spoke, I felt the vibration of his baritone voice from where I stood.

I glared at him for a second or two, marking down his face. He didn't seem like much trouble, so I scowled and turned on my heel to get another drink since this was ruined.

Great, just great.

I rolled my eyes repeatedly, noticing the man was still seemingly following me. In anger, I exploded, "Why are you following me!?"

"Let me get you a drink, at least for the one I had just spilt," he said calmly, contrasting the tone I gave him.

I sighed, "I was having a good day," I forced a smile, "My drink spilling all over me ruined it, but I will buy another drink…myself. Thank you anyway."

"I see," he pursed his lips, "You have a good day then, try not to walk with your eyes glued to the screen, Azura," he said in a low tone.

My jaw dropped for a second, quickly pulling myself back together, my lips in a thin line as he walked away.

Who the hell was that? Audacious prick!

"Azura darling!" I heard the photographer call out, entering the beverage room looking shocked, "My! What happened to your robe?"

"I'd rather not speak on it, let's go," I said blankly, taking the lead to the studio.

~

The day only became more hellish, the horrid traffic made my behind sore from all the sitting down, the heat had somehow penetrated the car, taking over the air conditioning, and the sounds of the streets of London began to irritate me. These things were an everyday feeling for me, but it only made my day less and less convenient.

I scanned through the samples of the pictures, admiring how shiny my black hair looked, and how radiant my blue eyes seemed under such quality. Marco had truly outdone himself with these, I couldn't stop staring, even the caption was alluring, exaggerated flattery, nevertheless, alluring.

'27-year-old Artist Azura Kourus Takes Her hometown by the neck with her astonishing beauty.'

I'm going to have him remove that age, it's horribly unnecessary.

After some time, I finally got home, home sweet home, how I missed it each time I travelled. I thanked the driver, dismissing him as I walked down the front yard, taking in the fresh oxygen from my trees that were sparingly planted.

I dropped my coat on the rack, placing shoes back in their designated area, enjoying the peace and quiet of the home. Every now and then I had to remind myself to release the tension I put on my face from having to simply live, which I mostly did at home. I only ever used a genuine, teethed smile at home, and with Nina.

Speaking of the short, talented devil.

"Azura!" She called my name out excitedly, running down the stairs with her arms wide open, "How are you? How was your shoot today?" she inquired.

She embraced me tightly, giving me a nice imprint of his lip gloss on my face, smiling cheekily afterwards, "But why? Skincare is expensive," I complained, holding her in an embrace.

"You can afford it; besides, you're heading for the showers anyway," she smiled playfully, "just don't spend a million hours in there this time."

"Why not?" I pouted.

"We have that gala tonight, don't you remember?" She frowned her brows in confusion. Once she uttered those words, I groaned as it dawned on me, "Oh, that must be the stylists!" She excitedly ran to the door where the ring came from.

"You're going to get me f****d, Nina," I sighed, pinching my forehead, frustrated.

"In the literal sense, hopefully, that boy you kept bringing over here every few months to console your needs isn't helping," she deadpanned, I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes at her as I clenched my jaw, pulling fake smiles to the stylists, sending Sarah to help them to the guest room to wait.

"Is that the card you want to pull? And you want me to follow you to this gala?" I asked bluntly.

"Anyway," she trailed off, completely ignoring me, "It's just a gala, nothing too big," she tried to convince me.

"Nothing big? Bloody ministers are going to be there, what do I even wear?" I retorted.

"What to wear is the least of your problems and you know it. Come on Azura, you promised you'd follow me to this gala knowing how important it is that you're there at least," she pleaded, her brown eyes filled with sadness.

I rolled my eyes, "Fine, but only because it means so much to you. Promises made drunk are unreliable, and you know that, keep that in mind next time before you tie me down to a tattoo promise next."

She squealed like a child, running to give me a tight hug, squeezing my arms to my body. I tapped her back, indicating she should let go and she did, unless I would have suffocated. She ran back to the guest room, her blonde hair billowing as she did.

I sighed, closing my laptop for the afternoon to start getting ready for whatever gala this may be. 'Azura, the artist' making an entrance to such a grand event might, of course, create some more public attention, I tried to convince myself.

Although, I wasn't in any sort of mood to go to any events. I had been working all week, recently got back from Singapore, and now I'm being forced to go to some gala where I'd have to use social skills?

It was worth it for Nina; she had been ecstatically talking my ears off about it since they called her up for the pianist gig. Needless to say, I was happy for her.

Nina had asked if the makeup artist would be of any assistance to me and I refused, assuring her I'd rather do it myself, and my hair. It was going to be a battle, but I was ready, might use it to ease my mind a bit.

I sat beside my comfort lamp on my suspended chair, taking deep breaths, trying to practice smiles for the evening. I went for a silvery blue strapless mermaid dress I had made for the night; it had matching gloves and I paired it with a faux fur shawl, some silver heels and silver jewellery to adorn. I hadn't done much make-up, a simple blue and shimmery silver eyeshadow with regular lip-gloss and a matching shade of blue glittery purse I got earlier.

I sat in silence, the warmth of the lights calming me down a bit but not enough, so I took a glass of champagne and that did a little more. I had never been so terrified to be amidst higher-ups, it was never a habit, I simply had to adapt to it since my rise to success, but it had never gotten this bad.

The room was meant to be filled with senators, ministers, presidents, billionaires at each corner, which I didn't understand why that would bother me since I had made art for most of them but something about tonight just kept bugging me.

I must be crazy.

I pulled my hair down so my black curls could fall loosely down my back to provide extra warmth, running my hands through it to loosen it up a bit before putting on my gloves.

Here goes nothing.

I headed downstairs to meet Nina, carefully walking down the stairs with my dress raised by my fingers so I didn't trip.

I heard her exaggerated gasp and immediately, my cheeks flashed a bright pink, "My, my!" Nina exclaimed, "You look gorgeous! Stunning! Magnificent! Etherea–"

"Nina stop!" I said shyly, covering my mouth in embarrassment, feeling the heat in my cheeks, "You look outstanding! Black is definitely your colour!"

"You flatter me," she said shyly, her cheeks a bright pink. She truly did, her dress a pure silk with diamonds around the bodice in a gorgeous sequence, similar style, matching pair of gloves but she went with black faux fur instead of my type of white, which complimented the outfit perfectly with her half-up curls.

"Shall we?" I smiled, pulling out my arm for her mockingly.

"Of course!" She said dramatically, looping her arm in mine as we made our way to the car.

It was about to be a hell of a night.