Page 61 of Sweet Madness
Here at the ranch, with Shaw, I am the girl I used to be before the world told me who they wanted me to be.
Look, I don’t blame the world. Now, I understand that I chose to listen to the noise and let it change me when all I had to do was be myself and forget what anyone else had to say.
Shaw taught me that.
My grumpy bodyguard has taught me many things in such a short amount of time.
God, what are you doing to me, Shaw?
I’m a mess for you, and I don’t seem to care one bit.
I delicately fasten the matching gold necklace around my neck, feeling the familiar weight of the pendant with the letter ‘E’ resting against my chest. It is also a gift from Mom, given to me on my fifteenth birthday—a token of her love and a reminder of our unbreakable bond.
Mom is not a person of many words, and at times she might seem cold and indifferent, but she is the warmest person I know. Her love language consists of actions, not just words.
As I clasp the necklace, I close my eyes briefly, savoring the warmth and comfort it brings. The intricate design of the pendant, adorned with delicate swirls and loops, captures the essence of Mom’s love and devotion. All her kids have a gold chain with their initials on it. She and Dad do too.
It is more than just jewelry; it is a symbol of the Kenton family’s unbreakable bond and deep love.
Looking into the mirror once again, my reflection shimmers faintly in the necklace’s gentle gleam. I smile softly, a mixture of nostalgia filling my heart. With the necklace around my neck, I feel Mom’s presence beside me, whispering words of encouragement when I feel down.
“Okay, Mom.” I whisper to the room. “I got this.” I say with determination. With the same resolve, I decide to keep a positive attitude and have a productive day until Shaw comes back. If I stay here and sulk all day, it won’t change anything—it’ll just make me miserable. So, I slide my feet into cowboy boots, make a final adjustment to my earrings, and take a deep breath, ready to do something that brings me joy.
Makeup, hair, and social media.
These things used to bring me joy, and maybe they’ll do that again here.
With bubbling excitement, I move around the room, searching for my makeup bags and hair products. Once I have everything I need, I settle into the desk chair, spreading out my bags of makeup and hair products neatly before me. The soft glow of the afternoon light illuminates the array of gold-pink brushes, numerous palettes, and my trusty hair oils.
Adjusting my iPad to the perfect angle, I tap on the screen to begin a live session.
I watch as thousands join the chat, instantly flooding it with greetings and emojis.
User1973: Ellaiza! ??? You’re back!
Kentonqueens: Stfu we missed you!!
Royalsbtxh: Hi, pretty girl! I missed your face!
The nerves that usually attack me every time I expose myself like this to strangers don’t appear. Instead, a bright smile slowly blooms on my face.
“Hey, loves!” I greet warmly, my voice carrying a blend of excitement and ease. “I missed you all too! So, I thought it would be fun if we could chat for a bit while I get ready for the day.” More comments keep coming in, and my excitement grows.
I pick up the Martee foundation brush and begin blending two of my favorite soft-tint foundations, my movements steady and practiced. I love makeup; it has always made me feel closer to Mom and my sisters. It’s something we all share, even my youngest sister, Evie.
Although my sisters’ techniques are far better than mine, Haven and Ambrose are in a phase where they love edgier makeup, while I lean more towards natural and clean girl makeup, just like Mom.
Mom used to tell me that less is more when it comes to makeup routines, while Dad would rather his girls don’t wear makeup at all. He almost had a stroke along with all three of my brothers when Everly started wearing blush and clear lip gloss. Mom had to step in to defend Evie, and he’s still bitter about it.
As I do my makeup, I chat with my viewers, answering questions about beauty tips and sharing my favorite products lately. When I decide to host a live chat, I briefly consider disabling the comments, but then what would be the point? I used to enjoy these sessions when I was younger. I just need to focus on the positive comments and ignore the rude and vicious ones.
Ten minutes into the live chat, I notice my siblings and cousins joining. Some greet me, some offer kind compliments, while my brothers and cousin Azariel just react to the video with either a heart or fire emoji.
I smile and greet them back.
All three of my brothers abhor social media—well, two of them do. Kyrin is a social media god if you ask him. Royal and Karl are more reserved but have accounts to keep track of all their sisters. Sometimes they forget I’m older and it’s my job to keep an eye on them, not the other way around. But there’s no point in arguing with two of the most stubborn men I’ve ever met, besides my parents. Those two are a deadly combination of my parents’ harshest traits.
Right now, as I do something that brings me joy and watch an outpouring of support from people I used to fear, I completely forget the threat to our lives and focus on the good—the now.