Nigina Ivy - Fake Life

Eva have her friend an angry look and Elly decided to change the subject.

“Weird…,” she said, “ – only today did everyone find out…. don’t you think so?”

“See what kind of hypocrisy modern society has to deal with? I hate to even think about it.”

“Oh well. Look, there’s an update. A new post from, you won’t believe who!” Elly was looking at her phone with disgust. “Guess who?”

“pRATty girl?!”

“Yes! Just another instance where she lives up to the nickname you gave her. Look at the photo she posted!”

Eva looked at her friends’ phone. Disbelief was written all over her face.

Bella was a good acquaintance of ours. Well, perhaps, not a very good one – just an acquaintance. Elly couldn’t stand her from the moment she first saw her. She’s always thought her to be pretentious and fake, in everything from her name to her ten-carat ring with a bright yellow diamond. As soon as Elly would spot Bella on the horizon, she would instantly get annoyed and would always say: “Where did she come from?”. I came up with my own explanation for my friend’s behavior: just like two suns cannot share one sky, two egocentric, overconfident, and beautiful women cannot share one company of friends. Indeed, Bella seemed to be interested in the same type of people that would always follow Elly around – the rich men’s sons. Of course, apart from that fact they were two entirely different characters and it went without saying that I gravitated towards Elly in most ways, including the way she looked. Elly was tall and skinny, with long legs and beautiful breasts. Her brown hair was complemented by the green, captivating eyes with intense, and somewhat predatory gaze. Bella’s look was entirely different. Quite fit, though not as tall as Elly, she did possess sexy hips long hair extensions of chocolate color that looked completely natural. It was clear when it came down to the amount she spent on it, she didn’t think twice. It wasn’t a secret that by the age of twenty, she had managed to “tune up’ her entire body. She had toilet bowl-white teeth veneers, unnaturally narrow nose, Botox enhanced eyebrows that gave her face a somewhat bitchy expression. A close friend of hers had told me in confidence that even her once sticking out Dumbo ears now were fixed up. What Bella reminded me was of a photoshopped glossy magazine model, that had materialized in front of me. Imagine sitting and chatting with her, while she looks ever so perfect. Not a hint of extra facial mimics, for which my mom would always tell me off: “stop frowning”, or “stop wrinkling your forehead” she would often say. Bella was so perfect that after the encounter with her, you would be happy to see your live, yet somewhat imperfect face, in the mirror. Guys had even given her a nickname – Bella Tuning. They would actively hit on her when drunk, or having fought with their girlfriends. What she didn’t have though, were classy admirers, and that constituted a key difference between her and Elly. My friend was regularly taken out on dates, guys literally melted when they were looking or talking to her. They were ready to tolerate her cold, at times cruel remarks, showered her with flowers. Rumor had it, once a guy who Elly had turned down on numerous occasions earlier, got drunk and called Bella. Not only did she accept his dinner invitation, but also treated him a “desert’, if you know what I mean. Elly couldn’t stand Bella. I, however, didn’t mind her company. It was both interesting and entertaining to me how in the world a tiny girl like herself could have done so much to her body, that ato thirty-five-year-old established woman wouldn’t have had a chance to do, and most importantly, WHY? Having said that, I found myself actually liking Bella. Ms. Tuning was always funny, down to earth, and very easy to be around and talk to. Elly often tried to convince me otherwise. She would say Bella was a notorious bitch, wishing good to nobody. I strongly disagreed. In contrast to most of our boring, predictable, and hypocritical peers, who were lacking identity, style, and being unable to say a word without their parents approval, Bella most definitely stood out. A defiant child to her parents and free spirit, she always had an opinion of her own. It seemed, much like a butterfly, she lived one day at a time – full of emotions, and sincere feelings. Besides that, we didn’t know much more about Bella. Maybe, a fact that she did have rich parents. According to her, her dad had died few years earlier, having left a big chunk of money to her mother, who lived in Monte Carlo. She spoke very little of her mother and when she did, her mother disapproval of the daughters lifestyle was always implied. She was a doctor, a very intellectual woman. One more thing we knew was that Bella was her only child. Her mother had her at the age of forty and it was attributed to this fact she had always been overprotective of Bella. That was the reason Bella left Monte Carlo once she had turned sixteen and came to live with her auntie here in Moscow. She lived here ever since, never ever wanting to go back or regretting the choice she had made. She had a kind of French last name everyone had difficulty remembering or even pronouncing. Either it was Bardot, like Bridget, or Boudreaux, like wine. Her collection of bright, colorful name brand clothes she wore probably featured all color palette of Birkin purses. It also included a variety of evening dresses from couture, diamond, exquisite perfume as expensive as a car. She was frequently seen being driven in Bentleys or Rolls Royses. However, Bella herself was quite humble, speaking little to none of the fortune her father had left her. Many, if not everyone in our circles fell for her money and chose to ignore her rather easy virtue . Her mother would always be spoken of as a decent, honest woman who struggled with her daughter behavior of a silly, shallow party girl. “She is too young,” they said. “She will outgrow it,“they were convinced, “There’s one in every family”. Apparently, that was what money could do – temporarily cover up unpleasant truths and contain the extent of social conviction.

It was that finally battle of good and evil that happened a few months earlier. Elly and Bella, as if competing for the title of bohemian

beauty, as I like to think of it. We were having dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant “Mario” in the company of a mutual friend. I really loved the place for both its atmosphere, and food. Naturally, in there dined predominantly men who came to the restaurant to enjoy food. Girls, however pursued an agenda entirely different. All dressed up and ready, they patiently waited to be noticed by some of the restaurant regulars. Some of them went as far as paying the waiting staff for letting them know when someone of interest would arrive at the restaurant. Elly and I liked the place because watching all that unfold was even more entertaining than a new play at a theatre. I kid you not, from the moment we made it through the doors, we were immersed in a magical, untold atmosphere of wealth, super wealth and euphoria. White table cloths, live music, dim lighting, candles, sparkles of true diamonds and cheap jewelry imitations – vanity fair as it is. And of course the most important – the audience itself.

However, people of our ages tended to gravitate towards places appropriate for the age, thus we were ones of very few of the kind here, which of course was a pleasing fact. Among our peers we would often feel like in a kindergarten. It was at places like this that we felt most at ease.

That evening, just like any other Friday night, we went an extra mile, having put on our most stunning outfits. I wore a dangerously short black dress with a golden Versace meduse pins. I was still tan after my Maldives vacation with mom a month before. I was extremely pleased with my hairstyle and makeup as I was leaving a beauty studio. As a gay friend of mine likes to say, don’t leave the house until you want yourself in the mirror. It was exactly how I felt that evening. Elly looked like the main character Elvira from the “Scar face” movie. She wore a stunning emerald dress with a slit all the way along hip. Her hair was elegantly styled into Hollywood curls that looked especially beautiful on her. Without boasting I will say, no matter where we went, we would attract a lot of attention. Of course, we acted like we weren’t aware of the fact and only planned to have a glass of Dom Perignon. You understand me, right? In other words, it was otherwise a rather ordinary Friday evening.