I Got Visas in my Name

My laptop is perched on a clothed Ladurée table, a decorative pistachio-green box of macarons placed next to it. I reach for the Petale de Rose flavour, my ears excited by the sound of the soft shell crushing. If there is anything I learned this spring break, it is that a change of scenery and indulgence every once in a while is essential to one’s wellbeing.


Muuuum, do I have to go?” I groaned as drops of Virgin Mojito climbed up my straw, like a reversed gravitational pull led them ito my mouth.

Mum raised her eyebrows, her brow bone glistening in the sunlight. “The whole family is going.”

“Which is why no one will notice if I’m missing,” I swatted a Coachella-fever carrying fly away.

“Then why did you just buy everything at Free People?” She placed her hand on her hip, giving me a death-glare through her translucent shades. “Well, anything that could fit you anyway.”

Am I the only one who doesn’t find thousands of sweaty, half-naked people dancing to deafening music the least bit alluring? Maybe I should hang out with Grandma more.

I furrowed my eyebrows, reaching for my Missoni cover-up. “I needed something to wear on the first day back–duhAnd for the next few weeks.”

Mum sighed, rubbing her botox-injected temples. “People must see my daughters interacting with celebrities! Not only will The Marvilous Marvils be showing me covering what and who’s there for the Daily Grind, but they will also follow you girls around! As the youngest daughter, you are supposed to be the most hip…”

At that point, my mother’s nagging blurred into white noise.

“–And I already promised Kendall and Kylie that you will be there!”

“Mother,” I sighed, getting up to cool myself by the pool, “I don’t need you to set up playdates for me.”

I dipped my legs in the cool water, remembering the days when I used to hang out with the Jenner sisters and the rest of COCs (Children of Celebrities). The heat left my body as I dived into the crystal pool.


I smirked at her ridiculous threat, floating on top of the clear blue water.

“Hi, room service?” I tapped my freshly manicured nails against the receiver as I glanced at the menu indecisively. My mouth watered as I read the list of delicacies. “Yeah, can I have a–hello?” Beep beep beep. “Hello?” My stomach rumbled as Mum’s finger pressed the switch-hook down, ending the call.

“No room service for you.” she said coldly, crossing her arms against her chest.

My eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“St Barf’s, remember?” What? She’s actually serious? My mouth fell into an O-shape.

“B-but… the program doesn’t start until May.” I pouted, praying that my mum would spare me.

“You’re right. You’re on Merri-Lee’s program, which involves you being food-grounded!”

Food-grounded? Is that even a thing? What if I die from starvation?


I looked at my Mum hopefully.

“…You could come with us to Coachella.”

I looked around the room, as if looking for a way out. “Fine.”


Scribbles Section

Really short, poorly-written post. And for that I apologise. However, I felt like this post would help everything flow better. I hope my next post will make up for it. Hint hint: It involves Dylan indulging in things other than food 😉




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