The Rich Life

12

The New Year's Eve party felt like purgatory instead of hell this time. There was gold everywhere, on dresses, on the necks of people, on the wall. It blinded me. Everyone seemed to glow in gold, after all the party did have a gold theme to it. Viktoriya wore gold on her ankles wearing high stilettos. I sighed, again using Tony as a support for myself but making sure I integrated with the people I talked to, kissing people on the cheek. Trying to make an effort was hard.

Tony had styled my hair into curls that trailed elegantly down my back and chose a gold satin dress with a slit up to my thigh and it was cut lower than I cared for.

A famous singer, lips stained with a crimson that contrasted the golden dress she was wearing. She looked like a glittering droplet of melted gold.

Gold, gold, gold everywhere. Are these people so shallow that they needed to be reminded of how much wealth poured into them? Americans are tacky rich and have no taste. 

Her voice was singing a ballad about hopeless love, justice and pain, drowning me with her dulcet tones.

I grabbed a glass of lemonade from a startled servant and drank the bright, sour liquid, trying to cleanse away the sickening words of the singer.

Tony was dancing with every woman present. They all fluttered their eyelashes demurely at him, hoping to catch his eye. I laughed bitterly to myself, thinking how he would never never, ever ever love these beautiful flowery girls.

The lemonade splashed sickeningly in my empty stomach. He was managing perfectly well on his own. Why couldn't I?

"Hey sweetheart," A thick American voice called out to me. I turned around, half-expecting it to be Adam. After all, who else called me sweetheart in such a cynical way? It wasn't. Instead, it was a blonde-haired man, so blonde it was almost white. Clear eyes, porcelain skin, not a single drop of pigment in him.

He was an albino. The most popular albino model in the world, one that rivalled even Viktoriya.

"Oh. Hello," I responded stupidly. Where was Tony when you needed him the most?

"I've seen you in the news? You're that lawyer," He was near me now, dressed in a snow-white suit which oddly stood out against the gold, "I'm a huge fan,"

Huh. I've never known someone who actually watches court cases, "You watch it out of your free will?"

He laughed, "I majored in journalism and political sciences. If I wasn't a model, I'd be an investigative journalist. Oh wait, I haven't introduced myself. My name's Roman,"

I tried for a small glimmer of a smile, "My name's Amara,"

Roman stepped closer to me, "That's a pretty name for an even prettier girl,"

I blushed and mumbled my thanks, complimenting him back. Somehow, we slid into an easy conversation. Roman was really down-to-earth. Once you got past him and his 18 karat gold jewellery.

I didn't even glance in Adam's way which was a major victory for me.

"Amara! I've been looking for you everywhere!" Called out Tony, "And who are you talking to? Ah...heartthrob Roman Ross. I should've known!" He wagged his eyebrows at us, beaming.

"Roman was just telling me about a funny story about the prostitute who you tried to hit up," I giggled.

"Whatever you heard is a lie. It wasn't me, I swear!" He said straight-faced, "It definitely wasn't me who got punched in my face and got robbed,"

Tony walked away after some time and it was me and Roman all over again. Tracing a finger along my collarbone he said, "You should've worn a necklace. To attract attention,"