Okay, basically, if you've read the fic that this one is based from, you'd know that Leah is a VS Model who is amazingly beautiful and sexy and absolutely angers Sam and his pack. (Please read the original—It's short but oh so sweet!)
I absolutely loved that oneshot! So I wanted to write another one of the same type, this time with Emily and the other wolf girls seeing her as half-naked Goddess:)
Our annual night of self-hate and worthless admiration may seem insane and unnecessary to most men, but to us, watching the most beautiful women in the world strut the catwalk at least once per year is almost required for daily living.
It really isn't because we want to compare ourselves to the models and make ourselves look overly ugly and mediocre— in fact, we hate that part. The only reason why we watch it, is because we want to point out how imperfect the models really are.
Yes, it's childish and maybe even a hopeless cause, but all women do it. We all want to prove to men that maybe these women aren't so beautiful after all, but most importantly, to ourselves.
Today is the day though...a night of watching the show with Rachel and Kim and a bowl full of popcorn filled my thoughts with ease. None of the guys are here with us tonight, for some odd reason...in fact, Sam hasn't been answering his phone in the last hour...
Anyway, I wasn't worried about him. Tonight was ladies night, and one of the best of the year, if I do say so myself.
"Oh," Rachel began with the criticism first, as soon as the show started. "Adriana Lima is so overrated. She's not even that pretty. Oh God...look at her walk! She can't walk. Nope. Never was a fan of her"
Ah, the perks of female bonding. It's great to hear it all, and soak it in. It's great to know there are other people who feel the same way and aren't brainwashed with the synthetic beauty Victoria's Secret has mustered.
"I agree." I chimed in. Rachel hadn't been more right. Adriana was overrated. "But you have to admit, she has a nice body after just having her child" Sometimes we fit a little room for admiration.
Rachel unwillingly nodded "I guess."
As the show progressed, more and more hateful comments seemed to escalate in it's viciousness. Even Kim had something to say.
"Ugh. I'm so tired of Karolina Kurkova. She's not even pretty and she doesn't even have a belly button!"
The next few minutes were spent pausing the show just to zoom in and see the missing belly button on Karolina's impossibly, and probably computer adjusted toned stomach. After gaping at the smooth indentation for about ten minutes, Rachel brought out her lap top to Google why Victoria's Secret let such a monstrosity walk on their runway.
"I knew it," Kim said "These aren't real women. This isn't even a human! She's a robot!"
I chuckled at Kim's conclusion and listened to Rachel read an article out loud explaining such a crazy mishap and impossible inhumanness.
"So she had surgery as an infant for something...?" I repeated
"Wow. This is the best they can get?" Rachel said angrily "How is she the sexiest woman in the world? She doesn't even have a belly button!"
After about ten minutes of discussing the missing belly button phenomenon and viciously agreeing with each point everyone made— we decided to turn the show back on, and progress with the torture that we all believed was necessary watching.
Five minutes of cheesy music and possibly cheesier outfits had passed and since the bickering never ended, I decided to enter the kitchen and bring out the red wine, simply to maybe make this night run a little smoother. ..
As I strutted to the kitchen (in my own natural catwalk, of course) and pulled it out the cabinet I heard a strangely high-pitched scream.
"OH MY GAWD. EMILY GET OVER HERE!"
From the sound of Rachel's voice, I ran over to the living room in nothing but fear, I checked to see if anything was alright, but I could only see Kim's tiny finger point to the T.V. screen in complete and utter shock.
I gasped and covered my heart which had started beating insanely, zapping me stiff. My knees lost balance and failed to hold me any longer, leaving me grabbing the table for support. All of my senses went berserk as I tried to decipher the when, where, why, how and who?
Yeah, it had been her. Toned brown and super long legs walked the aisle with as much fierceness and beauty a model can ever hope top pull off. Her hips swayed back and forth with crazy confidence and sexy authority— she owned the walk, she owned the show and the producers thought her good enough hat they actually had her as last model walking.
My heart had stopped, it literally ceased to beat. My brain functioned to figure out what had happened and why it did. Leah had been missing for more than two years and now I find her popping up on my T.V. screen?
What the hell happened?
I looked towards Rachel and Kim but I couldn't see them anymore, instead I saw red. I couldn't blotch through the anger and jealousy...Leah was living the dream...and she was doing it in the most pain inflicting way ever.
She had easily been the most beautiful model on the walk, and I knew her grace wasn't fake— I knew her all my life, and Leah has always looked like that.
I couldn't stop staring after her...I couldn't help but reach out and wish she would forgive me for everything that happened. I wish she could just come back and make sure everything was okay, and tell me we were friends again. A sudden desire to have her back here blossomed into something I never knew I had before.
The camera zoomed in on her tight butt and I still didn't stop staring, Kim started to speak but I ignored her. I couldn't stand to hear anything any more, rage filled me with so much contempt I...
I hadn't even noticed that I dropped the wine, I barely heard the crash or felt the shards. I could only feel the burning wave of envy and guilt that clashed together woozily taking me over. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
"So that's where she's been..." Kim mumbled.
"I-I-" Rachel stuttered, but finally decided on saying: "Wow"
I could only respond by placing a hand on my head and wobbling to the couch..I was shaking slightly, my eyes blurred in and out consistently, suddenly everything started to hurt. I felt as though I was losing conciseness.
It had been completely quiet after that, no one said anything as the models each getting prettier by the second walked like they were the Angels of the world. No one commented, but each of us were silently waiting for her to pop up on the screen once more...
And when she did, a gasp of air was breathed in from everyone in room. My eyes popped out their sockets as I watched her slick and naughty smile filtrate the walk. And the way she did walk was undeniably flawless in it's design...perfect in it's posture. She walked like the greats. I even found it in myself to admire her as she posed to give a cute angle of her face, and do the very thing I hate: a very cliché and over-used Victoria's Secret kissing face...
The crowd roared. Though I was the only one in the room to know this was not Leah Clearwater. I knew her all my life, and even though I always classified her as a vengeful person...I never though she'd make it this far.
And as everyone smiled and checked out the supermodel Leah, I kept my eyes on the broken-hearted Leah.
Her eyes—the only thing I could use as memoriam— remained as fierce and angry as I remembered. The fire in her soul never extinguished, she was still an unhappy and angry girl. However, there was something new there in her beautiful brown pupils...knowledge. As if she knew we were all watching her right now. As if she knew, or thought she beat us all, particularly me in all of life's endeavors.
And she was right.
I couldn't stand to watch her look straight into the camera...it was like she was looking at me, as if she could see inside my very heart. The grin she gave to the world mocked me. It was like she could see the very face that I was sporting right now...it was if she was laughing at me...
The outfit she wore was extravagant. The simple bra and panty set was dramatized with crazed and overly envied wings that trailed after her when she walked off the runway.
And I was left staring after her once again.
After the girl I betrayed not long ago; after the girl I had called my sister ever since I could remember. I stared after the girl I had tossed aside, like her friendship had never mattered.
And this was her simple yet overly zealous way of saying: "Fuck. You."
Review! Props to Lil' Dinky for the idea! PLEASE REVIEW!