"Holy cow..."
Mulan gapes at the magnificent mansion as her car gradually climbs the inclined, winded driveway, only half paying attention to her steering at she admires the arches, towers, and columns that make up the home.
She had barely gotten Lottie's invite in time to get ready for the party, throwing on her most formal dress, a pair of black heels, and curling her hair all at once to keep herself from being late. It's been two months since she's seen her best friends, and she at least hopes she's presentable enough. Sure, her family has money, but Jasmine and Lottie are loaded. In their eyes, she might as well be poor.
Grunting in frustration, she kicks off one of her heels, deciding it's easier to drive barefoot. And part of her misses Ping, her male counterpart, mostly because men don't have to wear heels to fancy parties.
A tall, formal-looking man dressed in a plain white shirt and black pants approaches her car, and she fumbles around with the buttons on the door, trying to remember which one rolls down the window. The man waits patiently, his face devoid of any emotion. "Good evening, ma'am." He drawls with a British accent. "If you will allow it, I will take your keys and park your car."
Oh. Valet. Fancy. Mulan holds up a finger, indicating he waits, and fumbles under the wheel to get her heel back on. Valet Man stands like a statue at the door, neither moving or even breathing as Mulan clumsily fits her shoe back on and shuts off the car. Opening the door, she wobbles forward, still not used to the new height, and drops the keys into the man's outstretched palm.
"Thank you! How will I get my car back? Do I get a number or a slip of paper or something?" She inquires, but the valet shuts himself in her car and zips off before she even has a chance finish her question.
She pouts, making a face as he disappears around the corner. How rude. "Well excuuuse me!"
An older couple making their way up the path to the entrance cast her curious glances, and she smiles and gives a curt wave in response, her face flushing in embarrassment.
Awkwardly, she struts along the concrete path to the wide front doors, fidgeting with the top of her dress, hoping it doesn't stoop too low, while yanking down the bottom to cover up her legs. She hates having too much skin showing, especially at a formal adult party.
Maybe she should have come as Ping. Just throw on a suit and she's good.
She pauses before entering the house, stepping aside to let the other attendees inside. Slipping her phone out of her purse, she checks her messages for any sign of Lottie or Jasmine.
Nothing from either of them.
Biting her lip, she slips the phone back inside her purse and zips it shut, praying they don't change their minds about coming to this party. Lottie has been dying to introduce her best friends to her fiancé, and she figured, why not his brother's house warming party?
Mulan did not spend hours shopping, fixing her hair and makeup, and driving all over New York just to be stood up a la Bouff! Again.
She shakes her head, convincing herself that her friends will be here, and wheels around to the entrance, stepping inside and blinking in the bright, fluorescent lights.
Her mouth drops open in awe.
The foyer is huge. The tiles seem to be made of the whitest marble, sparkling under the massive chandelier hanging from the arched ceiling. On both far ends of the room, two curved staircases lead up the second floor, a long balcony overlooking the front of the house. Straight ahead stretches another large room, possibly a living or dining room. Mulan can't even see the far end of the house, it's so big.
