He knows that he wants her, and he will get her...
Emrys Lennox had it all, academic validation, wit and charm all wrapped up in a thin layer of lethal beauty. His family name provided him all the attention and spotlights he desired, and what his mo...
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I want you to know
I'm a mirrorball
I can change everything about me to fit in
You are not like the regulars
The masquerade revelers
Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten
Mirrorball - Taylor Swift
Rain pours heavily on me, crashing waves of water droplets washing over me as I walk under the gray November skies. Lost, cold, I can’t even make the difference between my own tears and the rain that has now soaked me to the bone.
Emrys’s black shirt sticks to my skin, my hair is a wet mess as I stand in the middle of the sidewalk, no money in my pocket, just my feet carrying me blindly across the twisted streets of big cold Scarsdale.
I have never dared to venture down the town on my own before, always accompanied by either my father and sister, or by Emrys and Esmeray. The grandeur of the city stirs deep fears in the back of my head. I had grown up in Madrid, where I knew most of the streets and shops. Here; I am nearly as clueless as a fish in the middle of the ocean.
It took me two hours to finally feel my legs starting to give up on me, my tears getting warmer and harder. I shouldn’t have told them, I should’ve shut my mouth and my mind and never, ever, let them know how much of a failure I have become, how broken I have gotten. I should’ve let them in the dark rather than shatter their expectations, I should’ve let them live in the bliss of ignorance.
I don’t know how, or why, but my feet carried me from Heathcot to ‘Le Paradis d’Alain’, that looks more like an illusion of salvation than an ordinary coffee shop. My teeth chatter as I cut a billionth call coming from papa, who apparently even called Ray to see if I went to her, since the conversation is now exploding with texts I left on ‘seen’, something I’m sure Ray would murder me for later.
I stumble at the doorstep, my arms crossed to provide me some sort of elusive warmth. the bell atop the door rings cheerfully, and I almost collapse inside, I catch myself enough to make it to a nearby sofa.
It takes me a few seconds to realize that I am not the only one sitting there, a woman sit in a corner, like a haunted ghost waiting for a closure, her eyes fixated at the window ,where rain still pours like there is no tomorrow, through a worn out brown New Boys hat that covers her bob-cut chocolate brown hair. Her fingers, covered with shiny golden rings tapping against the wooden table.
Once…
Twice…
Thrice…
“Ms. Ryder ?” Mr. Belair’s voice cut my contemplation at the stranger gorgeous woman, his gray rimmed eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he takes in my miserable state. I chuckle nervously, wiping the remaining teardrops off of my face.
