• 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 • { 𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐗 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 }

2. 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚



{ After a while later }

{ your pov }

My parents are still engrossed in their conversation with some investor. my sister, on the other hand, has already sneaked off to meet her boyfriend, i can't help but wonder which poor, unsuspecting boy my sister has her sights set on this time. it's always the same with her, a trail of broken hearts left in her wake. i sigh and watch as my parents continue their conversation, completely oblivious to her whereabouts.

Who care.

The room is alive with music and movement, but I pay it little mind. I've found my own space by the bar, a quiet corner away from the crowd. I take a sip of my wine, savoring the smooth taste of the vintage. It's the only bit of pleasure I have to look forward to in this sea of glittering but empty faces.

As I nurse my drink, I take in the room: the flashy dresses, the sparkling jewels, the practiced smiles. It's all so artificial, just like the people here.

Being from a wealthy family means you're expected to fit a certain mold, attend these events and charm your way through conversations with the same people night after night. But that's not me.

I can't stand this scene, the forced smiles, the superficial conversations. What's the point of flaunting our wealth when all it does is highlight the emptiness inside?

I take another sip of my drink, trying to numb myself for this endless night.

It's not that I'm a complete introvert, but the shallow world of these parties isn't my scene.

My life is a cycle of disappointment. People come and go, pretending to care but vanishing the moment I need them. You can't trust anyone when all they see is your wallet and social status. Attending these events is just a test of my endurance, having to plaster on a smile and endure the charade.

If it weren't for professional obligations, I'd never set foot in one of these events. They're all the same, a parade of fake smiles and hollow conversations. The wine doesn't even taste good, it's just a crutch to make the evening bearable.

Downing the rest of my drink, a familiar sensation washes over me. I know from experience that I'm being watched in more than just a casual way. I can feel it in the way the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. It's that same intense scrutiny, like I'm some kind of prey.

Here we go again...

I internally roll my eyes, knowing all too well this must be some creep who can't seem to keep his eyes to himself. As a woman, I've grown accustomed to being gawked at and leered at, yet the feeling never gets any less irritating.

I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I keep my gaze fixed forward, stubbornly ignoring his presence.

I've dealt with enough creeps to know how to maintain my composure. Years of experience have taught me the art of appearing unbothered on the outside, even when annoyance simmers under the surface. I continue to sip my wine, outwardly the picture of calm.

do my best to discreetly avoid the persistent gaze of the creeper, all the while maintaining a casual composure. I'm not afraid of him, heavens no, but I have no desire to be the center of his attention.

Believe me, I have no patience for these creeps. If I allowed myself, I would tear that entitled pervert to shreds. The only thing keeping me in check is the thought of causing a scene. In this setting filled with polite smiles and idle chatter, the last thing I want is to disrupt the evening with a violent outburst.