ABIGAIL

Chapter 1

Abigail's bright red ponytail shone under the scorching hot sun, visible even in the whole expanse of a 270x150 metre field. It was easy to keep your eyes on her, no matter how fast she was pushing on her horse. It was the whole reason she dyed it a scarlet red; which contrasted greatly with her white helmet. 

The Number 1; she was the offence player in charge of swinging in the points. No matter where she was on the field, you'd see her and Henry; her dashing mohagany Thoroughbred.

She pressures an opponent and manages to steal the ball from behind the line, she races across into the goal and swings her mallet along as she rides gracefully toward the goal posts. The Number 1 finishes the game with a winning point for her team. The crowd cheers for the now 4 Time Champion of the 'Revalon Polo Championships' the 'Deaton City Polo Team' and for Abigail Fosiore the star of the Polo World. 

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"That was a great game sis, as expected of the world's favourite number one!" Andrew,  Abigail's twin brother, stood to greet her enthusiastically at the club lounge after the game. Unlike his flashy and popular sister, Andrew had an unassuming and pleasant demeanor. His hair was a dirty blonde, he sported a light tan from watching his sister at the games. He looked just like any other high society young adult male in a polo shirt and pressed khaki trousers. Although he wasn't as eye-catching, he had a warm smile and a kind personality.

Which is quite contrary to his fiery sister, "Thanks Andrew, where's mother? I would've thought she couldn't wait to lecture me about that swing in the first chukka." Abigail brushes past her brother to plop herself onto a lounge chair, helping herself to Andrew's other half of his swiss cheese and mushroom sandwich, "That bloody woman, won't let anything past her!"

Andrew sighs a sigh too familiar and tilts his head towards his twin, arms raised, "Abby, why does it matter? You were great, you got the team to win! That's more than enough." Andrew knows, as much as whatever he can say to console her, it doesn't get through. Still, he says them anyway, because she's his sister.

"Great isn't enough. One mistake? Isn't enough." Abigail stops eating and looks away, her green eyes so sharp, it could cut glass, her cheeks were turning as bright as her hair. Abigail got cold, again, and they both knew that that was the cue for Andrew to stand down. 

Abigail wasn't always like this, she was never so hung up on perfection. It was ever since Mother got her into Polo after she turned 20, she's never looked or acted the same. 

Deep down, she was still funny and carefree Abigail and Andrew knew that. But that sweet Abigail would never come out before, nor during, and most definitely not, after a game. Right now, it was snarky and perfectionist Abigail. 

"Abigail!" There was a high pitched shrill coming from the entrance of the lounge. 

Mrs. Melinda Fosiore.

Andrew had to suppress a frown, since he knew what was coming next, or so he thought. Instead, he was suprised to see that his Mother wasn't storming into the room to ruin everyone's day but was smiling from ear to ear as she dragged behind her a young man about the same age as them. 

"Of course, you'd be here, gorging on all this... food. It was quite the intense game." quipped the woman with blonde curls in a massive pink and gold derby hat adorned with inaccurately proportioned fabric roses. 

"Mother." Andrew curtly nodded, expression blank. He eyed the young man who was now standing a few inches beside the woman in all pink. 

"Abigail, Andrew, this is Sebastian Veroni, the youngest son of the Veroni Trading Corporation, The world's leading trade & logistics company." their mother proudly announced.