Transmigrated Into A Billionaire

Chapter 59 Styling a billionaire

"That fucker…"

Amy hissed but not before apologizing for being an asshole and barging into Ace's room

unannounced. She closed the door gently before working down the hall to check on the two other doors

but they were locked. Which meant, Araceli's room could only be amongst the first two, she opened the

second door to find Araceli smiling at her cunningly while lying on her bed swinging her leg back and

forth like an excited kid waiting for a Christmas present.

"Oh you are worse than the devil himself," Amy exaggerated, narrowing her eyes at her which only

made Rachel laugh more. Honestly, she couldn't remember why she changed the number of her room

door when Amy asked, partly because she knew Amy was pretty predictable in the sense that she

would always want to pull a stunt that didn't favor her or try to do something silly like how she used to

call dibs on front sit wherever they were going out with Ricky and partly because she thought she had

been to her room before so she replied kind of sarcastically thinking she already knew the right room.

"You really wanna blame me for your fishy brain??," Rachel laughed as Amy huffed about how it

wasn't fair.

"Oh now you know it's not fair, you literally called dibs on me when you were at the top of the stairs

and I was barely half way through, if that didn't scream and bleed unfair, I don't know what will," Rachel

turned over on her back and faced her white carved ceiling.

"Whatever,"

"You got any idea of what to wear??," Amy asked her, heading towards her closet which was a

totally different room on it's own, she was sure that if they tried to fit her apartment all together in here,

it will fit and even leave some extra hallway space.

"Xander wants me to wear something black, guess is we are supposed to be in matching clothes

because we are supposed to be a couple, fucked up shit" Rachel sighed.

"He definitely doesn't get to tell me what to wear, that's not how this shit works," Rachel said,

switching from a lying down position to a sitting position, she was definitely not gonna let him decide

what she would wear, she wasn't Araceli. Besides, he probably would be matching with Alice Harvey

too which would be a sure bet. It's funny how her mom stopped asking about Alice. Unlike her undying

love and support for Xander, she pretty much zeroed in on Alice and didn't bother to ask for her either.

"So now we got you all hyped up, let's see what you plan on picking out," Amy said looking

through her designer cocktail dresses for evenings. Trust me, she didn't even come up with that

sentence, she didn't pay enough school fees to come up with something like that. The name was

actually written over the heading of the rack and it was just some rack, it was a full Rack of designer

wear from dresses to jump suits to business suits and tops all from designer top brands.

"Seriously, Cocktail dresses for evening events??," Amy asked, coming out of the closet(pun

intended).

"Could you be any more white and rich??," Amy asked, chuckling.

"Heyyy,"

"That was my former stylist way of guiding me on what to wear when he wasn't around or in the

country,"

"And I'm Italian, and you are the white person here," Rachel replied, defending herself.

"You had a stylist??"

"Of course you did, you are the 5th on forbes most powerful under thirty of last year and this year,

of course you will have a fucking stylist," Amy said to herself hitting the side of her head as if to jingle

her memory.

"I'm actually Russian by the way, at least by birth and my dad was Russian according to my foster

home," Amy said casually, going through the rack of clothes.

"Yeah I also fished in Greenland during the winters and after that we offered them to the hill spirits

for a good year," Rachel joked along.

"Really??,"

"Why the hell will anybody do that anyway??," Amy asked, completely shocked at the tradition they

did yearly, but it was no surprise though, Rich people did crazy shit and they keep doing crazy shit, like

a friend once told her from the trench, she said "you gotta be crazy, if you want to be crazy rich, you

trade a little form of your humanity for wealth," and right now, it was beginning to make a lot of sense.

"No one does that Amy!!" Rachel exclaimed as she rubbed her hands down her face, she knew

she would totally miss the joke.

"Then why did you say that?," Amy paused at the frame of the closet looking at Araceli as if she

was losing her mind.

"Because we were both just saying random crazy shit you know, like how you said you are

Russian…" Rachel replied, she kind of faded out on the last part when Amy's expression told

her that she wasn't joking because she looked so goddamn serious and was staring into her soul

as if questioning why she would do that.

"Oh shit…"

"You weren't playing around when you said so…" Rachel realized.

"Why will I joke around with shit like that, I mean not to be stereotypic myself but can't you see my

hair??," Amy said, pointing to her now shortened platinum hair.

"Wait a fucking second…"

"That's the natural color of your hair?!" Rachel exclaimed, as she stood up and went to touch the

hair, it was pretty soft.

"Yeah, I decided to go for something less wild plus this is a formal occasion, I can't come looking

like I just got kicked out of the club after my 31st glass of shot," Amy chuckled.

"Why does that actually sound like a real life scenario?" Rachel laughed.

"It is hun, I have escaped alcohol poison more than Chris Angels has actually escaped death,"

Amy laughed.

"Good 'Ol memories…" Amy muttered to herself.

"So what do you want to wear??" Rachel asked her as she watched her spin racks and go through

the clothes she had hanged and some were still tucked away, sealed in her closet drawer. Most of them

were gifts from designers she served as muse for and promotion labels while others were honorary

gifts for patronizing them.

"Something that matches with my eyes, something greenish blue or something fire Red that will

contrast against my skin, like right now, all I can ask myself is WWTSW??," Amy said, touching her

chin and stroking the invincible beards there.

"What the hell is WWTSW?" Rachel asked.

"What will Tilda Swinton wear?," Amy said as a matter of fact, as if it was something every random

person knew which was definitely common, I mean did she know who Tilda Swinton was, nope, I mean

she wasn't J-lo or Rihanna.

"Who the hell is Tilda Swinton anyways?" Rachel asked.

"You don't know Tilda Swinton??!"

"You don't have a TV or what??"

"Just tell who she is for God Sake?," Rachel said exasperated.

"She's a goddess, A movie Icon and beautiful Fashion Icon," Amy explained with a dreamy look in

her eyes, it was obvious that she completely adored her.

"What movie has she starred in?" Rachel asked, she took her phone and searched for her. Amy

was right though, she was an A list actress in hollywood, she was sure Araceli had met some of this A

list actors and actresses in Hollywood.

"The island, Doctor Strange, she got other classics," Amy said.

"Yeah, you are right. She's pretty much a big shot in the Hollywood industry and true she has

style," Rachel admitted. She actually bore some similarities to Amy too, like her fashion sense and

body stature, they both also had platinum blonde hair too.

"You guys kinda look alike though, only you got aqua eye iris and a more bubbly persona, she

looks depressed as fuck," Rachel said, scrolling through her pictures. Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

"She is not depressed bro, she just got a resting bitch face like Julian Moore and Nicole Kidman,

but yeah thanks for the compliment, I see what you did there secretly loving me up and acting like you

don't care huh…" Amy wiggled her eyebrows at her.

"Oh rest your tits honey…" Rachel replied, dropping her iphone on the bed.

"Since you got style and you know these brands, So what look do you got for me?," Rachel asked.

"OMFG...Are you asking me to style you up?!!!" Amy exclaimed excitedly, running to Araceli and

pulling her off the bed.

"Uhm yeah…" Rachel muttered, confused why she was excited.

"Okay..I want you to say...I, Araceli Garcia want Amy to style her for a billionaire fundraiser event,"

Amy said slowly, looking her in the eye with all seriousness.

"That's ridiculous, Why?" Rachel asked, looking at her confused.

"I just want to hear it please…" Amy said.

If she didn't sound so serious she would have laughed right in her face thinking it was one of her

over dramatic turn outs. But she knew Amy, she was someone who really valued validation, and if she

needed to hear her say it to make her feel better than she would. She knew how it felt, to need

someone's validation to feel like a person again.

"Ok then…"

"I, Araceli Antonia Garcia, asks Amy whatever-your-last-name-is to style me for a fundraiser

event," Rachel said, smiling at her while holding her face in her hands.

"Billionaire…" Amy muttered as she started to get teary.

"What?!," Rachel asked, confused.

"Billionaire fundraiser event," Amy pointed out.

"Really Amy…" Rachel gave her the bored look.

"Just say it Aracel, I need to hear it" Amy said, bending her head so she doesn't see her getting all

emotional.

"Billionaire fundraiser event…" Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I will" Amy said, wiping her tears away, it was game time now.

"Wait...are you seriously tearing up?," Rachel asked.

"It's a really emotional moment for me, now go sit yo ass down first," Amy ordered with a totally

different tone in her voice that screamed control.

"Yes ma'am," Rachel saluted her and did as she said.

"So the first thing we are doing is changing your hair back to black bitch…"