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"She found out the truth," I said to my reflection. "No, so it can't end. We had to win. The heritage is mine!"

I shook my head sometimes maybe everything changes, maybe I get up from this nightmare. But nothing happened. I was sitting in front of my combing table in the same way, and the same girl looked back at me from the mirror. Broken and weak.

"No! I am not weak nor broken!"

The girl from the mirror looked back at me angrily on whose face the makeup smeared, leaving a dark patch on her beautiful face. My reflection was the old shadow of myself, even though it was more like me than I would have confessed to anyone before. The perfect look, the fashionable, colorful clothes, and the kind smile were only camouflage. A mask that I put on every day and covered my real identity. But I am not like that, not anymore.

"She took Matteo from you, she moved into your home, you had to go to the same school, and you had to share with her the rink as well. The only place where you could really be yourself, where you didn't have to hear that criticism that Sharon said to you."

"You have to be perfect. You are the leader. You move every thread. You can't show your weakness."

What is perfection? Is that I suffocating all emotions in me and creating an image that seems invulnerable? Or is that I am the best in my class, and I am The Queen of the Rink?

"But now Sharon isn't here and her criticism neither. You can't count on her anymore."

I am strong, I'll get through this somehow!

A tear ran down my face, wet and cold.

"No! You can't cry!" I growled at the girl. "What is that now? You can't miss Sharon so much! She just used you. She made you believe that you are Sol Benson and only used you to keep far Lunita from the truth. When dear Lunita found out the truth, Sharon—your precious defender—went as far as she could in defending herself. So much she was interested in you, so much she was your godmother that she hadn't even said a word where she is now. And she hadn't asked how you are."

But the tears were still running down on my face like a watercourse.

"Simón?"

I shuddered when I heard his name.

"You can't cry because of him. Yes, he broke your heart, but you did a mistake, you had fallen in love with him. He was only a part of your plan."

But then why does it hurt so much? I had to be disappointed in him like in everyone else, in turn, I believed he isn't like that. However, I had to realize that behind the warm brown eyes and the kind smile is the same liar person. He didn't care a whit what would happen with me after this. I did a mistake, but he was unable to hear my version. At least he would have been curious about my point of view!

My tears stopped, and I stood up from the table. I look around in my room. Everything was white, pink, glittering.

I went to my wardrobe with angry steps and opened widely its huge, white door. Its contents were colorful one by one, skirts, shorts, trousers, shirts, and blouses. Everything was pink, blue, green, yellow, purple—disgusting. As if we could cover the real face of the world as if everything would be fine with them. It would not be evil; it would not be a liar.

In turn, the colors lie the biggest because they cover the darkness that is in everything and everyone.

I grabbed my clothes and ripped them off from my wardrobe together with hangers. I kept the big, colorful pile of clothes in my hands and dropped it on the ground. A roar erupted from deep in my throat shaking my whole body.

I went to my backpack to the corner of my room and took out the yesterday bought black airbrush. I shook it, took off its top, and I pulled a stripe with it on the wardrobe's white door. The contrast effect was big, despite the black color calming me down as nothing did. The things' real face.

I painted my whole room with black stripes, some on my walls, on my cabinet, on my posters. Then I reached the mirror. There I stopped for a minute, let me blow myself. I examined again the girl who stepped in front of me. She was wearing a black, mini dress with black fishnet stockings, neon stripes in her platinum blonde hair and smeared make-up on her face. This was me.

I took a deep breath, and I blew it out. I shook the cartridge again, and I held out my hand to the mirror. I painted a huge x on the reflective surface, which made me smile. It was enough from this stupid habit! There isn't more talk with my reflection.

I looked around in my room again. Satisfaction filled my body when I looked at the furniture with black, where stripes, where subtitles decorated them. "Keep out!" I was satisfied with the result, but something was missing, and then I realized what was that. The light-flooded my room as if the sun was right in front of my window. I felt so much anger boiling in my veins that I thought I would explode immediately. Why should the sun shine like this? What the hell do we need so much light? The whole thing is just good for that to give false illumination for everything. If in the world everything was dark and black, everything would be so much better. They wouldn't give us false daydreams.

I headed to my backpack and pulled out the yesterday bought black polyester material that would be perfect for curtains. I rose them and dropped them to my bed. Then I stepped to the window, and I started to tear the white, heavy curtains off. I don't understand how I could live like a princess. It wasn't me!

When I was done with my old, heavy curtains removed, it came to my mind that I would need a ladder due to it, I went down to the warehouse with the white ones in my hands. The curtains were so heavy that my arms were almost torn off. I reached the stairs where I chose the easier way. Instead of carrying the chunky curtains on, I dropped down them without looking down, checking if someone standing under me or not.

"Hey," a male voice shouted.

I ran down on the steps, and I glimpsed someone with my curtain on his head. At first, I burst out laughing, but when the person was continuing to suffer from the curtain on him, I felt a little sorry for him.

"Stop! Don't move! I am here."

I grabbed the end of the heavy curtain and tossed it high. Because of this, the curtain fell to the ground due to its weight. And I found myself facing him. Due to the momentum, we almost bumped our heads, our breath almost touched. I quickly went back some steps whilst he cleared his throat.

"I am okay," he said, and he immersed his warm, brown eyes to mine.

"Okay," I replied, avoiding his glance. "By the way, what are you doing?"

He stared at the ground, then I knew he wasn't here for me. Why would he come?

"I was searching for Luna, but suddenly this fell," he gestured to the curtain, "and I saw nothing." My lips curved up. He was so ridiculous when he tried to take off the curtain, but he couldn't. "You won't leave the mansion, will you?"

"No," I answered quickly. "That is, yes. I discard some things which don't need me anymore, and I change my room to like it more."

"It's cool!" he celebrated, but I couldn't say a word. Why is he happy about it? "I hope these changes are positive ones. I hope now you aren't wrong."

I frowned. "Are you worried about me?"

"I know you're living a hard time right now," he said, and I turned my head on the side. Why now? Why not earlier? "If you need to talk to somebody if you need somebody to listen to you, I don't know...I'm—"

"I don't need anybody. Thank you so much. I can fix everything alone," I interrupted him before he could have offered himself. When he needed me, he left me? I don't need him, I am perfectly okay with myself, with my new me. 

"I know you look hard and invulnerable, but I know you perfectly, Ámbar. I know behind the make-up and the dark clothes you are a very pretty person."

I chuckled in disbelief. Sure, now you say this. Why didn't you say this after it turned out that I was responsible for the fire? I needed you, your kindness, and your understanding, but you just left me like a piece of garbage. I know I did a mistake, but that was long ago, and I changed when I was with you, you changed me, I thought, but I said quite the opposite.

"That's what you want to believe. But you aren't wrong, I am like this," I said. "This is," I pointed at myself, "who is standing here, is the true Ámbar."

He shook his head. "You aren't like this."

"Are you sure?" I raised an eyebrow. "I know very well who I am," I replied confidently. Then his face turned into a grimace. "What happened, Simón?" I stepped closer to him, and I engraved my glance into his. "Are you afraid to accept that something happened between a person like me and you?" 

I was only some inches away from him. How compromising, don't you think? I exhaled into his face. I blew my warm breath on his face which made him shiver. When he thought I would kiss him, I turned around and left him. I felt his gaze on my back.

I reached the warehouse as fast as I could, grabbed the ladder and I headed to my room with that in my hands. Then it came into my mind that I left the old curtains on the floor where we had met. I left the ladder in my room, and I went back for the curtains. I placed them in the laundry, and I left a note for Mónica to wash them and use them as she wants. 

I tried to distract my attention by putting on the curtain, but it was no use. He filled my thoughts, my moves, my everything. Everywhere I looked I saw him saying "it isn't you". I was mad at him. I tried to forget him, but I couldn't. 

I dropped myself at my bed, I drilled my face into my pillow and tried to keep back my anger. He can't do this with me!

I stood up when I calmed a bit down if I could say I did. I searched for my make-up, and I painted my eyes with it again to highlight it. It was darker than ever, but I liked it. Then my mouth was the next, I anointed the black lipstick on it. I pursed my lips, and I opened my mouth. I examined my look again on my phone's screen. It was the real me.