Dear Iris [h.s]

chapter fourteen.

Iris Grace

Tonight's dress is a deep wine colour, it has long sleeves and a deeply cut neckline. I hate it, I look horrible and I don't think I've worn this since I was 18, for good reason. I don't think I've ever felt more goddamn insecure in my life.

It's the mayor's birthday celebration, which he won't even be attending, therefore this is the stupidest, most pointless evening of my life, but there was no way I'd get out of it, not after arguing with Thomas yesterday. It'll be dire, it'll be boring, but that's my life these days.

Upon arrival, I was given a glass of champagne and classical music was echoing through the whole building. Thomas vanished, thank god, and my mum and dad wandered off to engage in conversation with people that won't get them down, like I do.

They're family. That's what I have to keep reminding myself. They may hurt me, but at the end of the day, they're the only family I have.

"Iris!" Someone called, and of course, it was George. "How are you? What dance, or are you too sober?"

"I'm not the dancing type." I told him, rolling my eyes when I realised his eyes were no longer paying attention to my face and instead, my chest.

"You want a drink then? A smoke? C'mon let's go for a chat..." He said, linking arms with me, to which I pulled mine away insulted. "C'mon."

"Not just now." I smiled back politely.

"Come find me when you've had a couple drinks yeah? Loosened up a bit." He winked, then picked up my hand to kiss the back before dropping it and walking off to the bar again.

Ten minutes. I've barely been here ten minutes and George is already harassing me, trying to get me to go home with him. Although it doesn't seem like it, that's his end goal. If not me, someone else, but that someone else isn't somebody who he has in his mind that he'll settle down with.

You'd think after all this time he'd have gotten the message, but no. Apparently the words 'I'm not interested' or 'No' are far too complex for men these days. God forbid a woman ever has the nerve to reject a man, why on earth would someone do that?

I wandered through to the hallway, the one with the paintings on the walls and the ceiling. It's a shame such a pretty building has such negative connotations in my mind. Once again, beauty is ruined by men in suits with wads of cash in their wallets.

My favourite painting here is one of two children on a fallen tree, balancing with flowers in their hands. I think it's beautiful and it reminds me of the fallen tree in the woods here. I often wander dow into the forrest just to sit on that tree branch, it brings me peace for some sad, stupid reason.

Loneliness forces you to see the beauty in other things. When people can't bring you happiness you've got to search for it somewhere else. My happiness is art, stupid little walks aroud the town, waders ito the woods to sit on that fallen tree, and lots of other meaningless things. Looking for the beauty in life removes an element of the sadness.

"Hello friend."

I jumped three feet in the air. My heart plummeted all the way to my toes. I thought I was having a heart attack until I turned to see Harry. Why is he everywhere?

"Oh my god?!" I exclaimed, feeling my thumping heartbeat. "What the fuck?"

Harry was laughing away to himself, holding two glasses in his hands and with guilt displayed on his face, handed one over to me. "Sorry."

"I almost had a heart attack." I chuckled, accepting his glass of red he was handing me. Red isn't my go to, but if that's what you're gonna give me then fine. It makes me look classy, which I so clearly need apparently. It'll be a mission to get through this night sober, the less I am the better.