Funeral of Pretenders
“He was the best. I can’t believe that he left…..” a woman said through her sobs while the people around her gave her words of affirmation. She wore a black body-cone dress that showed her figure. Her hair was pulled in a sleek bun. Her makeup remained on point, refusing to budge even with all that hysterical crying. By her sobs, she looked devastated, but by her outfit, she seemed as if she wasn’t attending a funeral but the Met Gala.
“ Those manicures of yours look so elegant, Vivienne, “ Bianca said, lifting her stepmother’s hands. Gasps masked as admiration followed. The French tips were pristine — freshly done. The timing wasn’t missed.
You seem so young for your age, Mrs Zaria
Your outfit speaks ready for Met Gala
What foundation are you using? It’s not budging at all with all that crying.
Vivienne could only hide her fury and thank the people who were butchering her. Bianca’s work was done, so she excused herself from the group of people and walked towards and empty table. A waiter handed her a glass of grape juice in contrast to all the other guests there who are busy getting drunk on different kinds of alcohol.
“ You really butchered her there didn’t you sis”
“ Even if she is your mother Lyla her tears were too fake to let go, just like any other relative we have here”
it was true. Every single one of grandpa’s relative were crying rivers and floods, portraying that they were the only ones closest to him. But their outfits. put together, their hairs, well done, their perfumes, just right amount, their shoes, sparkling, their jewellery, on point.
“ I would like to give them the benefit of doubt sis. After all , with all the media and press here they surely feel pressured to show up any less than put together” Lyla replied taking a glass of the same juice her elder sister was sipping on.
Bianca rolled her eyes which always meant I don’t care. A habit of her that she stopped paying attention to.
For a while they stood there watching their relatives put on the best sob show of their lives. It was funny, sad and sick at the same time.
“ who do u think is going to take grandpa’s place sis?” Lyla asked
Bianca who was looking at the relatives lowered her eyes, falling into a deep thought. Lyla bit her bottom lip. Seeing her elder sister so conflicted was hard.
Bianca was her role model. The Perfect elder sister one might call her. Everything there was, Bianca excelled at it.
She was valedictorian in collage and school
She was gold medallist at sports.
A face that could stop
Vogue cover model.
Business woman of the year, three years running
“ I hope its you”
“ what did you say” Bianca asked
“N.Nothing” Lyla quickly changed the topic.
She meant it. and wished it was her elder sister who took her grandpa’s place as the CEO and leader of the Zaria group. she earned it.
Bainca’s eyes wandered at the people in the room. her eyes stopping at one person.
“Whoever it is,” Bianca muttered, eyes narrowing, “I just hope it’s not Uncle Jeremy.”
The mood soured.
In front of the world he was the best son and uncle one could ask for but when the camera’s were not there. He was ruthless. A man with no sense of compassion or responsibilty for people. Everything was numbers to him. He literally saw a score board on top of everyone telling him who was worth keeping around. Anyone below 90 out of 100 was replicable for him. That rule wasn’t exclusive for the people he work.
“ I wonder what my score for him is” Lyla tried joking but her joke didn’t quiet land with Bianca. Who was clearly in no mood for jokes.
“ The investors are here.” Bianca held Lyla’s hand and was pulled her towards the investors. Only to be pulled back by Lyla. Her gaze was lowered.
“ why” Bianca knew that gaze. Lyla always lowered her eyes when she didn’t want to be a part of something.
“ I am not suitable” Lyla kept her gaze as it was. not lifting it.
Slowly she felt Bianca losing her grip and walking away.
Lyla always liked that quality of her elder sister. She never pushed her to so something Lyla didn’t want.
Slowly Lyla lifted her gaze and saw Bianca dealing the investors. One might say she is a natural but only Lyla knew how much her elder sister worked to be called the natural. Bianca polished her skills through iron training and pushing her to limits.
“ if there is anyone who can run the Zaria group now its her”
Lyla whispered to herself. A habit which often got her in trouble.
A memory flashed infront of Lyla’s eyes.
“ I trust you and only you.” Lyla’s grandpa said. His voice weak and raspy.
“ I am not worthy of your trust “ Lyla’s words were true. They always were true. Lyla was one of those people who couldn’t lie. If she couldn’t tell the truth then she would just go silent. A quality of her that her grandfather admired and loathed at the same time.
“ The one who doubts and questions themselves at every stage. Always open for something that’s better and are not opposed to criticism. My child..they…. You…Are… Worthy”
That was the final memory grandpa left Lyla. He told her that she was worthy but he never told her ‘of what’.
Was it just some words he spoke out of love for her in his final moments? Words of love told by a grandpa to his granddaughter.Did he know his time was limited? And that made him say those words.
Lyla was still looking at Bianca.
“ I don’t know what you found in me that was worthy grandpa. Only if you could tell me…”
Lyla once again looked around the beautiful banquet. It looked more like a wedding than a funeral. All the mourners dressed as models and liars.
She gulped the last of her juice and walked away from all the fakeness.
