8:47am Sunday 31st May
Dad: You will be getting a personal bodyguard starting Wednesday. His name is Johnson and he will be with you 24/7. Please organise a room for him to sleep and you will need to talk to your work about him being there with you. This is not up for discussion! Dad.
Great. When he starts putting exclamation marks in his texts, shit is getting serious. I place my phone back into my bedside table draw and try to forget about the fact that I am going to have a shadow starting in 3 days. Better get my freedom while it lasts.
Having a famous family, even just a famous parent sounds like the best thing out there to many people, but lately, it has been more and more of a giant pain in my ass. More paparazzi, more stories coming out about every member of our family (I’m surprised they haven’t written about the family dog tbh), and so much more angst between my father and me.
My father and I have never really had a great relationship. My therapist tells me that it is because he doesn’t know how to deal with daughters or how to have a relationship with them. Luckily for him, I’m the only girl out of three kids. The other two are the favourites, Braith and Andrew.
Braith is a full-on perfect child, he’s the dream for any parent. He is a world-renowned surgeon, but more specifically he is one of those doctors that you literally go to when no one else will help you. I will say in his defence, that the way he is treated is not totally out of order. He is the stereotypical big brother that will literally hide in the corner of a restaurant whilst I am on a date with somebody just to make sure that they are being respectful. One time, a guy tried to get me to pay for the first date, and Braith came over and told him to get his wallet out and act like a man. I was fine with paying, but safe to say I never saw that guy again. Braith is my protector.
Andrew, on the other hand, is becoming more and more like dad every day, unfortunately. Especially considering that his girlfriend, of 6 months is 4 months pregnant. Andrew is a drifter. He has never settled down, never really studied or found his calling. Dad keeps trying to get him into the so-called family business of money but according to Andrew, money is the root of evil. However, that does not stop him using it. Boys are confusing like that.
On the other hand, you have me. The teacher, the failure, and don’t forget the one who likes to be talented. School was hard for me, but the teacher’s got me through it. One specifically showed me that teachers can be just as important as your parents. She showed me what my life could look like very early on. I became infatuated with the job and it became my only purpose in school to get good grades so that I could study to be a teacher. 5 years in and I am exactly where I want to be. I have left home, I am earning my own money, and I have just signed the mortgage and contract for my own house. All, I might add without precious daddy’s assistance.
Wandering into my ensuite, I look into the mirror and see that two humongous zits have decided to show themselves on my chin, looking like two mushrooms in an enchanted forest. No doubt as a result of the complete stress city I have been living in for the past month, wondering whether or not the house will be mine or not. Who would have thought a little cottage on land could be so much of an issue.
Peeling off my silk pyjamas, I toss them back onto my bedroom floor for me to deal with later. Turning into the wet room part of the room, I turn the knob of the shower on, making hard, jet streams of water pelt onto the tiles of the floor. Slowly, the room fills with the mist coming from the heat of the water. As I walk into the waterfall that soon shrouds my entire body, I feel all the stress wash away. A shower is the best medicine… until you start to talk about chocolate. As I dollop my cleanser into my hands, I rub them together to form a light lather of ylang-ylang scented foam.
As I gently rub the lather into my face, I feel a sudden sense of anger. Why the fuck am I getting a bodyguard? What hasn’t my family told me? There is something that I am missing. Seriously, this whole public eye thing is great for those that enjoy it, but for simple folk like me, it’s an extreme annoyance. God knows how many times I have had a screaming match with my father about the publicity of my life or the different lifestyle choices that I have made. But now this… this is taking it to a whole new level. Fuck me, why can’t you just be honest with me and tell what is going on? I know why because it’s my father and he will never change. So Annabelle, have fun with your new buddy.
Washing off the cream coloured foam that covers my face, I begin the best task of my shower. I have recently found that I am a bar of soap person. But it is not just any old soap, it is Lush soap. The purity of the ingredients, the smell and the funny names also help this brands product be a consistent stakeholder in my bathroom. Today my soap is blue. Different shaded blue soap glides across my skin and shortly, my cream tiles end up having small tinges of blue streamed across them. Splashing water around the base of the shower with feet, helping to move the blue out of the grout quickly becomes a small playtime for a child in an adult’s body.
Rinsing off the blue from myself, I quickly turn the shower off whilst reaching for my bath towel and wrap it around my body. The mornings have been cold recently and getting out of the warm shower has been getting harder and harder to do. Wiping my limbs dry and checking for any lingering droplets of sweet-smelling water, I wander out to my chest of drawers looking for some half-decent underwear to put on. Luckily, I did my laundry yesterday, so the supply of undergarments is plentiful. Reaching for a silk maroon pair with sheer on the back of it, I glide them up my still damp legs and reach for my bra. I hate bras! They are a torturous device, but unfortunately, I don’t have the resources to go bra-free because my tits look like small, wide and flat ice cream cones.
With my bra and panties on, I wander into my closet. The best thing about this apartment that I am definitely going to miss is this walk-in-closet. I have a space for everything and I have become one of those people that split their closets into sections of different types of clothes. I have one area for work, one area for play/socialising, one area for complete chill days and one area for pyjamas. My work section does take up a large amount of the space, however so do the pyjamas. I literally come home from work to put on different pyjamas. Reaching into the work section, I grasp a black tank top, reach up to pull down black leggings and grab my army green denim jacket. It’s casual but I don’t care, after all, I don’t have to impress Braith, he knows what I look like.
Once I’m dressed, I stroll back into my bedroom looking for my white sneakers and some socks. Somehow my socks always seem to lose their other half. I don’t know if anyone else has these issues, but I am always half a sock down.
Sliding the socks and shoes on, I walk into the living room past the hallway table to grab my bag, keys and watch. Once my watch is attached, I race back into my room to grab my phone. Checking it for notifications and seeing there are no more messages from my family is great, however, I kind of wish Maddi had texted. I need an excuse to bring this new life addition up. But for now, Braith will have to be my ears to vent to.
Looking at my watch, I realise I am going to be late if I don’t leave now. I swear, if he spends the whole breakfast complaining about how late I was I will tell him to bring it up in front of my new bodyguard next time he sees me.…