This is a short story called Flashes From The Past I wrote. It is about jealousy getting the better of a person but the main theme is class division and how my character thinks they should have more than my other character because of being richer than them but it doesn’t always quite work that way. Hope you like it. 🙂
The music played into her ears. Something classical. The name of which she remembered to recite in conversation as something she was interested in. She wasn’t even sure she liked it but it sounded intelligent to say. Maybe she could get the rich man and the mortgage still even if it was three years later than expected. God, that bitch had it all. Watching her shadow appear in the window of the 5th floor of the headquarters of her make-up company, she felt like she was looking down on her in more ways than one. It seemed ironic to her considering she had once being the richer one. The one with poise, attitude and flair unlike the nerdy, working-class and slightly overweight woman who she had went to make-up college with eight years ago. Life didn’t seem fair. She watched as her husband came behind her and wrapped his arms around her lovingly. It seemed all for show and all for her benefit. His glorious blonde hair glowed as he gently held her and nibbled her ear. He was a model who had met her on a campaign and their romance, though private, had appeared a few times in the fashion press. How she had looked at the pictures of them holidaying in Australia, America, the South of France or at various glitzy parties in disgust before throwing the magazines in the bin. The bitch had lost weight and they looked so beautiful together. It was enraging. Liberty de Rose. Bloody hippie. She would always be plain old Sophie Rodgers to her. How the hell did she get everything that should have being hers?
Liberty looked down at the vastness of the city. Wow, she thought I’ve come a long way from the shy, slightly insecure young twenty-two year old trying and failing to fit in in make-up college and trying to keep back that she watched reality tv amidst the affluence that her fellow students seemed to talk. Trying to keep back that she had a hippie mindset of emotion and expression over aesthetic. She learned long ago that despite the talk what really mattered in business was been able to do your job and that some people didn’t care who you were, what you looked like or what your background was and that once they gave you a chance the more snobbish employers flocked. And that love was possible. She snuggled a little more into her husband Jonathan’s body. He proved to her that someone could feel the same about her as she did about them. She watched the various people go about their business, a nosy habit she had picked up due to writing short stories in her spare time and then she seen her walking away. Kate Hudson, the girl who always had an expensive handbag and the newest make-up, fashion and phone. The girl who always knew the latest trends and who she assumed probably thought her weird for liking literature. But as she disappeared around the corner she shrugged. What would Kate be doing here? She was probably working in make-up on fashion shows in Paris like she always said she would be. No, it was just a case of a lookalike. Wasn’t it?