Michelle Cassidy
Michelle Cassidy
by Dominique, Year 8 on Publishers Studio
by Dominique, Year 8 on Publishers Studio

It was 3:00 pm on a nice sunny afternoon. Despite this, I drove my pink Ferrari through the city’s bustling streets with vigour. I swerved into a parking spot and slammed my door open. Placing one foot in front of the other, my 3-inch, red bottom heels created sounds like whipcracks on the pavement. People stared at me in fear.
“James. What. . . . the hell . . . is this”, I seethed through the phone call. A notice had been taped at the front window of my boutique.

A MESSAGE FOR MICHELLE CASSIDY
For expressing an unfavourable attitude toward one of our country’s most revered citizens, we will be asking you to shut down your store and your other branches. We hope you realise your mistake.
What on earth does that even mean?! These pranksters have gotten bolder, thinking of me as a moron! To close down all my branches?! All 46 of them?! Are they insane?!
I could hear my employee trembling on the other side, “M-miss Michelle, please calm down for a minute-”
I hung up on that obtuse and dim-witted fool.
“What’s the point of even hiring that idiot to be my employee if he can’t even spit out the problem to me?! Does he really expect me to drive all the way here every time another prank is pulled?!”, I muttered fiercely.
I ripped the notice off my glass and ordered the employees working at this branch to clean the window.
“Uh-oh”, A young man with sharp features, silver hair and amber eyes disapproved. His black suit showed his obvious wealth, “Miss Cassady, what did we tell you about your anger issues”.
I glared at him, “I have none. If it weren’t due to your constant bother I wouldn’t be in such a state”.
“Is that right? Well, this is none of my business anyways. You’ll suffer the consequences of the higher-ups soon enough”, he shrugged, “That aside, are you free this Sunday?”.
I sighed, rubbing my temples, “Yes. What is it this time?”
“A yacht party. All my guests are intrigued by you, Miss”, he smirked.
‘Intrigued’? More like ‘ready to insult me’. “Fine”, I reluctantly agreed, “Send me the invitation”.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary. You’ll come as my plus one”, The man smiled at me with contempt.
My hands trembled with fury. They wish to meet with me and yet they don’t even bother sending me my own invitation?! They’re making a mockery of my name. “Very well”, I answered, frigid.
“Perfect. I’ll be seeing you two days from now, my beloved Miss Michelle”, he laughed and turned on his heel.
Before he could leave, I decided to put him in his place.
“Listen, Croesus. Don’t forget our agreement. You promised to protect me from those ‘higher-ups’ and I’ll boost your social standing. Don’t you dare look at me with ridicule. I will not be the object of your scorns”, I reminded.
He glared at me before calming down and was escorted into his black limousine. “Tch”, Croesus replied with vexation. I watched the car drive past, my cold stare burning into its number plate.
Five hours later, after a hefty day of work, I sat on a velvet-red loveseat and stared at the night view of my garden. “Haa”, I sighed, “What’s happening to me? I’m getting so caught up in all this”. I rested my chin on my wrist and stirred a cup of chamomile tea in my hands.
It started out with a simple boy and now I’m caught up in all this? Honestly Anastasius. What a plot twist you were.
I smiled, remembering all the memories we shared together. A little boy born to an insanely wealthy family was once betrothed to me who came from a moderately rich family. Everything was business and there was no love. Despite this, as we grew, we became closer and closer until we were inseparable. But things changed after I got emancipated from my family at 16 and lived with my aunt. I began my own business and pursued a career in acting. I became the socialite of the year three times in a row.
It was all fun and games. Foolishly believing that I’d become someone worthy of your love through my own success.
My heart dropped with despair at the recollection of my heartbreak.
But soon enough, you were betrothed to someone else and forgot about me. No words could ever describe ow much that affected little me. You, who was the goal of my success, had never loved me in the first place.
Things have been harder for me ever since I read about you and that girl on the news. I gave up my acting profession and focused on improving my business. Luckily, my large impact as an actress left a legacy like no other.
Now I’m left with Anastasius’ half-brother seeking to drag me down while he takes my place in the social world and their father doing everything in his power to destroy my business.
I rubbed my temples in aggravation. I needed something to numb this tortuous headache.
“Ella, get me a strawberry daiquiri”, I ordered.
“Yes Madame”, she replied and went off to start her duty.
Anastasius’ father must really think lowly of me if he believes some notice stunt with a few stunts will shut down my business. I put my everything into building whatever I have now.
“Men really are detestable. Don’t you think?”, I asked the three maids tasked with attending to me. The three got flustered and nodded enthusiastically with a chorus of ‘Yes’ and ‘Of course’.
I sighed once more. Can this day become any more tiring?
Suddenly, Ella burst through the mahogany doors with my phone on a plush, velvet cushion, “M-madame? Madame Elvira is calling and it seems urgent”
I was pleasantly surprised, “Aunt?” But she hardly ever calls. . .
I picked up, “Aunt, how have you been-”
“Mischa, it is not the time for that. Someone bought a third of your products and he’s ranting on the news about his love for you”, Aunt Elvira spoke rapidly.
“What . . . ?”, I was dumbfounded, “Ella! Quickly, turn on the tv!”, I demanded.
“Yes Madame!”, she quickly rushed to the remote and the massive screen revealed a gentleman with bright green eyes and ebony hair running from the scene. No way . . . Anastasius?!
The camera followed him to a familiar house. Wait- Isn’t that my front porch?! What on earth is this fool-
“MICHELLE CASSIDY”, Anastasius bellowed, “Please let me in and hear me out!”, he begged.
“Mischa?! MISCHA?! Why on earth is the news at your mansion?!”, Aunt demanded to know.
I dropped the phone in shock. Wha- what is happening?!
by Dominique, Year 8 on Publishers Studio