Harper

MASQUERADE BALL

Harper's pov:

My mind raced, entertaining the unthinkable notion that Xavier might be in cahoots with King, the notorious gang leader. It was incredulous – Xavier, a potential member of a mafia or gang? The dichotomy between his seemingly benign exterior and the sinister underworld was unfathomable.

King, the enigmatic gang leader, commanded respect and fear in equal measure across America. His title, though stylish, bore the ominous weight of danger.

Regret clawed at me for agreeing to accompany Xavier home. What had possessed me to make such a reckless decision?

Interrupting my internal turmoil, Xavier casually proposed, "Do you want to go out?" His mischievous smile hinted at a hidden agenda.

In a spontaneous exchange of glances, we found ourselves nodding in agreement, our unspoken desires aligning. Despite my uncertainty about what he meant by 'fun,' I decided to play along.

We underwent a swift transformation – Xavier donned a sophisticated black suit, exuding maturity and chic elegance, while he handed me an off-shoulder, long black dress with a thigh-high slit. As I changed, anxiety crept in.

Questions flooded my mind like a relentless stream:

Why did King refer to Xavier as boss?How did Xavier acquire these clothes?What was the connection between them?Where were we headed?

The chaos of inquiries rattled my composure, yet I couldn't falter. After all, I had followed a complete stranger to his house, and the realisation hit hard that no one from school cared about my whereabouts.

A gentle knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Coming!" I shouted in response. I adorned myself in a sleek black dress and silver butterfly lace-up heels.

 Surprisingly, I discovered a newfound allure within me. 

However, my elation was dampened by the stark visibility of my scars, both old and new.

The scars, a mosaic of pain and healing, presented an unappealing sight. The healed ones, swollen and imperfect, told tales of wounds that resisted mending. 

Meanwhile, the fresh wounds displayed ominous black and yellow hues, betraying their infected state. Observing my own body became a mood-ruining experience, as every scar seemed to narrate a poignant story.

Among them, a cut traversed my shoulder, extending down to my elbow—an enduring reminder of a past ordeal. 

It was the oldest and deepest wound I had ever endured, etched into my flesh like an indelible mark.

 Despite my efforts to suppress the memories associated with it, the events replayed in my mind like a haunting, broken chord.

"Riley, get your ass out of the bathroom!" Xavier's annoyed voice pierced through my contemplation. With a resigned sigh, I acknowledged that I had to face him, scars and all.

"Can you get the car ready?" I asked Xavier, hopeful that he would leave the room, giving me time to grab some makeup from my bag.

He agreed, and as the door closed behind him, I hurriedly entered the bathroom. Five minutes later, I emerged, adorned with the jewellery Xavier had laid out on the bed. 

A silver clutch purse in hand, I stood before the large body mirror, satisfied with my transformed appearance. 

For the first time in a long while, confidence surged within me, and I felt like a bad ass princess.

Leaving the room, I felt a momentary confusion about where to go. However, the sight of a familiar painting triggered my memory, guiding me on the right path.

 Stepping outside, the sensation of the wind on my skin was invigorating, and the impending rain added an exciting element to the day.

I wrapped my arms around myself and made my way to the car Xavier had chosen. He opened the door, assisting me with my bag, and a mutual smile passed between us. 

Finally summoning the courage to inquire about our destination, I asked, "So, where are we going?"

Xavier's response was to hand me a silver rhinestone mask. Without questioning, I put it on, but a subtle unease settled in as he didn't offer any compliments or even spare me a glance.

Suppressing my growing concerns, I tried to go with the flow, but the nagging question persisted: Why wouldn't he compliment me?

"Do I look that bad that not a single compliment can come out of your mouth?" I asked, annoyance tainting my voice. 

Xavier turned to me, shocked, before erupting into loud laughter, wheezing and coughing as if I were a comedian.

"I'm serious," I insisted, my voice cracking. I felt vulnerable, and he had made me wear the mask, so I expected a confidence boost.

"Alright, I'm sorry. You look like Cinderella," he replied mockingly. I playfully punched his arm, chuckling.

**

Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at a mansion—a grandiose estate that captured my imagination and attention. 

Lost in the splendour of the sight, I hardly noticed Xavier stepping out of the car. Hastily adjusting my mask, I joined him, eager to explore the spectacle before us.

It was a masquerade ball—a breathtaking display of opulence and elegance that left me feeling both enchanted and apprehensive. 

I had never experienced such extravagance before, and the presence of beautifully adorned guests only heightened my sense of unease.

As Xavier guided me through the ball, greeting acquaintances with familiarity, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

 His demeanour, coupled with the radio earpiece around his neck, hinted at a clandestine mission unfolding before my eyes.

"What are we doing here, Xavier?" I finally mustered the courage to ask, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Have a seat, Riley, and don't move," he instructed, his tone firm and leaving me feeling abandoned amidst the glitz and glamour.

Reluctantly following his command, I found myself adrift in a sea of masked faces, each hiding secrets as elaborate as their attire. 

Despite the enchanting atmosphere, I couldn't escape the gnawing sense of isolation, acutely aware of my status as an outsider in this world of privilege.

Boredom soon settled in, only to be shattered by the arrival of a striking girl, her presence commanding attention with every step.

 Clad in a baby pink dress that accentuated her curves, she exuded an aura of confidence and allure that left me spellbound.

"Can I help you?" I managed to utter, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

"Do you know where your boss is?" she inquired, her words punctuated by a gesture that emphasised her ample assets, drawing the gaze of onlookers.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, her sudden outburst causing a scene that left me flushed with embarrassment and confusion.

Apologising meekly, I retreated, seeking solace in the sanctuary of the bathroom. Yet, as I pondered my encounter, a sudden commotion drew me back to the main hall.

There, amidst the throng of revellers, Xavier stood with an air of authority, his gaze piercing through the crowd to meet mine. 

But as my eyes wandered, they fell upon another figure—a figure that struck fear into my heart.

King.

In that moment, all my questions were answered, each revelation more disturbing than the last. Xavier's allegiance to King, the orchestrated ball—all pieces of a puzzle that hinted at a sinister purpose lurking beneath the veneer of sophistication.

With a sinking feeling in my chest, I realised that the truth I sought was far more dangerous than the secrets I had uncovered. 

And as the night unfolded, I could only brace myself for the harrowing revelations yet to come.