Symphonies in E Minor

Chapter Fourteen: The Confession

Hi everyone. Thank you so much for reading my story so far! I click on every single one of your comments to read them and they always make me so happy. They make me want to write more. I don't think many people have seen my announcements, but this will be the last chapter until the end of Ramadan. The next chapters get a little.... nsfw, and I don't wanna write that or post it during this month. Thank you so much for giving my story a chance and here is Chapter 14 :)

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Upon entering the grand ballroom, Harry is immediately reminded of the reasons why he hates these dances. The lights are bright, even brighter because it's nighttime, and the chatter drives him crazy as soon though, as the height of the chatter is yet to be achieved. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose where a doctor once told him to press to remove a headache. He does the same to the pressure point on his forehead, feeling some types of relief.

He does a quick scan of the ballroom, his sister catching his eye with Ruhina beside her. He walks to them, adjusting his cufflinks.

"Sister," he greets with a kiss on her cheek. He nods to Ruhina. "Are we ready for this?"

"Brother, are you ready for this?"

"No." He looks around. "Where is your friend?"

Clara twirls her dress innocently. "Your lover? She's on her way. I think she said her ears were bleeding."

Harry ignores the first part. "What?"

"She said she had to re-pierce her ears."

He stares at her. "I don't know what that means. I'll wait with you until either Faiz or Aaliyah shows up."

Clara nearly chokes on her drink. "First name basis? When did that happen?"

He narrows his eyes and turns away. But he doesn't say anything.

"Listen," Clara says after she wipes her mouth. "The alumni ball means you go out and talk about what you've been up to. You go out, with a smile, and do business. Promote your work. If you haven't been up to any good, lie. I do not care how deceitful it is, I need you to lie."

"I believe I was the one to get my degree in business," Harry mutters dismissively.

"You must get something good written about you in the paper," she continues hastily. "Invest in some of their businesses. I do not care what you do, but do take this seriously. Our father's money he's lent us will last a few months at most."

His father did give him money to keep Harry above water for some time, but it was accompanied with a lecture of "I told you this career would be a waste of time!" He recalls his father had been extra annoyed with him after he'd gone to help Aaliyah. He remembers him ignoring Harry for hours and yelling once he was done being childish.

"I will be a lord's son indeed," Harry says, fixing his hair from off his forehead. "I didn't come here to be lectured too, my dear sister, and I will be a social man for you. Are there journalists here? Or are we simply relying on gossip?"

"There are two journalists here." She turns and nods towards the corner near the entrance of the ballroom. "Look."

Harry inconspicuously turns his eyes towards where she's gesturing, but he catches sight of another thing. Of another person.

Aaliyah wanders into the ballroom, not as clumsy as always but instead with refined grace, fixing her pink gloves over her elbows. It's easy to recognize her despite the dusty rose, shimmering mask tied over her face. Her braids are in a half updo, her shiny tassel earrings shaking with every step she takes. Her dress is very different from the gown from the first ball they met and the Opera House. This one flows more, the sleeves falling off her shoulder, gold jewelry complimenting everything about her so well. Her corset is visible beneath her dress, tightened fittingly on her form once again giving him a view of those wonderful side curves he swears his hands would fit perfectly against.