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Midsummers.
It was the one day of the year Ophelia Martin absolutely despised. It was a grab for attention, the Kooks gathering in one remote place to show off their wealth, and often times, their savage plans.
The brunette had made her way down the elongated staircase that particular afternoon, bare feet tapping against the wooden floors with every step she took, loose curls flowing on top of her tanned shoulders.
She knew her father would be beyond frustrated, seeing as in she hadn't been ready, wearing the dress her mother had picked out for her months prior. Instead, she was accompanied by a pair of light pink pyjama shorts and a white tank top, absolute dread written across her face.
"My sweet girl." Isla Martin hushed as her daughter came into view, her mother toying with her dark locks as she decided whether it to be put half up or left down completely, contemplating which style would make the most of their night. "You're not dressed?"
Ophelia simply shook her head, hands wrapping around the double door fridge as her eyes wandered through. "No, momma." She sighed. "I don't think I'm going this year."
Her mother pursed her cherry red lips, a signature that was to match the younger girl, placing down her hair clips. "You have turned into such a beautiful, smart young girl, my love." Isla muttered silently, placing her self behind her daughter as she set her hand on her tanned shoulder.
"You're father would be very upset." She coughed. "You know how much the means to him. You are born into a legacy of a business, my girl."
Ophelia knew if her mother had the chance to stay at home - she would. Beauty, with brains, Isla Martin was a kind soul, and felt the pain of her daughter, when she wished for nothing more than to be a teenager.
"Ophelia, sweetheart." Richard Martin was heard echoing throughout the cathedral ceilings, his dress shoes clicking with every step against the marbled floor. "Why aren't you dressed?"
The girl sighed heavily, shutting the double door fridge though stood still for a moment, bracing herself for the backlash of not being ready. To her father, Midsummers was the most important day of the year for his joint business with Ward Cameron, and much like the girl, Sarah and Rafe were forced to join forces with fake smiles plastered on their faces.
"I don't think my presence is necessary, dad." The girl muttered quietly, her head cocking with attitude yet her voice remained calm, chewing on her lower lip as she spoke. "Ophelia." Her dad cooed. "You are always the most important person in the room."
