Mistaken Identity

Chapter 8 Ms. Wilson

"Ms. Bisson it's time to wake up," I heard similar to my alarm. I groan.

"I don't wanna," I replied in a childless tone. My face showing a pout.

"Ms. Bisson the plane landed thirty minutes ago, Mr. Carter has being waiting for you in his car." That

brought me back reality. I took off my glasses and rubbed my sleepy eyes. I reluctantly stand up and

grap my bags. I looked at the airhostess that was straddling Carter. I cut my eyes and mummer

"Pathetic," enough for her to hear. I quickly came out of the Private plane. I didn't care if she heard me.

Who straddles someone in front of people? She's a complete bitch.

I saw a black Mercedes. The windows were down and a set of emarld eyes staring at me. I entered the

car on the opposite side. As soon as I entered the car the chauffeur, start the engine. I sat across from

Cater. He had all his attention of his phone, texting away. He was obviously trying to avoid a

conversation with me. I followed and took out my phone along with my earphones.

Chris Brown-Love More ft Nicki Minaj starts playing. I love Rap mix with R&B, I loved music. It is my

escape from this cruel world. Music takes me a place free of worries. All my problems cease to exist

when I listen to music.

In my teens, I was a street dancer, secretly of course in the real world I was a nerd. I love the danger

that came with dancing. I loved when cops will run us down in the park. I loved dancing itself. That was

my secret not even my sister knew about it. I told her I spent time at the library and she believed. She

never entered in the library to see if I was telling the truth because she was too popular to be caught in

a library. At that time of my life I was a secret rebel. I didn't dance as often as I did as a teen. That

reminds me, today was Wednesday, I was an assistance dance teacher for Carlos dance studio. I

search my contracts and call him, I got voice mail so I left a message.

"Carlos, I won't be able to make today or any other day for some time. I'm in Los Angeles. Tell the

kids I said hi," I said in Spanish. "I'll miss you my friend. Thanks for your help. Bye." I ended the call.

Carlos is the closest friend I had after my sister and I didn't let anyone else in. Carlos was gay best

friend and also best friend. He is Hispanic and some was my step father, Henrique. Carlos was one of

the rebels I hang out with back in Las Vegas. He moved to New York two years before I did and we met

up back in a coffee shop. I smiled as I remember the encounter.

"You know emo girls where never my type I just simply prefer girls with red-hair." I heard the voice

behind me said. I quickly turned around, to see who was brave enough to tell me I was emo. A nerd

yes, but emo? Nope, not at all.

"Carlos," I was shocked to see my gay friend in front me. I hugged him immediately and he laughed.

He quickly release me and took a seat in the empty spot around my table. I followed and sit.

"Where is the red head I used to know? " He asked mentioning to my hair.

"Yea, I kind of dyed it," I replied. I dyed my hair so I wouldn't look like my twin who had broke my

heart.

"No shit Sherlock," he said. I rolled my eyes.

I stared out the tainted windows of the Mercedes. I continue staring that until I saw the car being turned

into a mansion. It was of cream color, it was the most beautiful place I'd ever laid eyes on.

I looked across and I saw sand then my eyes caught the sea. Wow, not only was this home beautiful, It

was also close to sea. This place is a paradise.

The Chauffeur parked outside the mansion. He came out of the car in haste. I made my way to opened

the car, but the chauffeur opened it for me, he gave me a smile. I returned it, and said, "Thank you,"

Carter came behind me but didn''t say thanks to the driver. He made his way to door and I followed

slowly behind him. I saw him press the doorbell. Why did he do that? Weren't we at his place?

The door opened and a lady in a plate uniform opened the door. She has faded grey hair. She had a

smile on her face. "Good afternoon, Mr. Carter." She turned and then she saw me. Her face showed

an immediate growl and the smiled disappeared. With that reaction I knew she didn't like me, he must

have told her about my sister. "Good afternoon, Ms. Bisson."

I offered her a light smile. "Hi,.."

"My name is Cynthia Wilson, but you'll address me as Ms. Wilson. Please follow me and I'll take you to

where you'll be staying." Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

"Okay," I lightly said taking up my luggage that the chauffeur left at my feet. Ms. Wilson is as scary as

her boss is.