𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄. [𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐀𝐜𝐭 1 - 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

___He got eight of them.___

TODAY_

Number 8 'Y/n':

Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror, the bright lights framing her face as she took in the image of the person she'd become. The makeup, the perfectly styled hair, the expensive lingerie- it was all part of the persona she'd crafted, the life she now led.

And she loved it. It was better than the strict and demanding life she used to have. She was the center of attention.

She was desired, admired, and for once, she felt alive. She became one of the most famous icons in the most looked down industry. She enjoyed life on her own, not needing the company of her siblings and their hatred for her.

She hadn't made contact with any of them for 15 years except for Klaus and ben. She refused to make contact. She didn't want more of the pain that was inflicted on her to be considered as being 'lucky'.

There was never a day when she regretted running away at 14. Maybe the fact that she did things that a child shouldn't do at such a young age is what made her feel sad about leaving.

But if she had the chance to go back, she wouldn't take it. Life at the house felt so controlling. She had strings attached to her limbs like a puppet, the puppeteer being Reginald.

She told herself she would never go back no matter what, and she stayed faithful to her promise even when allison Somehow found her address and sent her a wedding invitation. She burned anything that attached her to her past, her clothes, her shoes, her everything. She even saved up money to get that ugly tattoo removed. She was umbrella academy free.

Except for a few things, like for example, every once in a while, before she fell asleep, her gaze would drift to the small box on her vanity. Inside is a simple, self-made ring crafted from wire and topped with a tiny white pearl, the kind you might find at a dollar store. Attached to the ring is a folded note hidden from anyone's sight and sealed with a star-shaped sticker

The only gift she had from five.

She was beginning to forget what he looked like. All she had left were a few old news clippings and a single photo of the two of them arguing about who knows what in their uniforms, both wearing masks.

She never hated him. In fact, She loved him and cared for him more than anyone she had let in her life. They were close once, really close, but something changed. He grew distant, and that distance turned into resentment. She still questions what she did wrong.

_______
"Sometimes I wonder what that note says, but I fear that if I read it, I'm accepting the fact that he's really gone. And that would be too much to bear."
______

She stepped onto the stage, her heels clicking softly against the floor. The spotlight enveloped her, illuminating her features and swaying her hips. She approached the pole with grace, her fingers trailing along the cold metal as she spun around it effortlessly.

Her body moved in perfect harmony with the music, each motion fluid and mesmerizing. She twisted and turned, like a snake trying to convince you to eat from the forbidden fruit, to commit a sweet sin to have her. She was hypnotizing, and the thin laced lingerie didn't make it any better.

But suddenly, the music had smoothly switched to the last part, way too earlier than expected it hadn't even been 10 minutes. What was going on? She glanced at the DJ, who made a spinning motion with his fingers, signaling her to wrap it up. Confused but nodding lightly, she smoothly did her final turns and twists, flashing a wink at the VIPs before heading backstage.

As soon as she was out of sight, her smile dropped into a frown. She approached her manager, her brows furrowed. "What's going on? Why'd my showtime get cut off?" she asked, looking around her to see if maybe there was a problem with the bar or something.

She grabbed the jacket her stylist handed her to cover her bare skin from the cold. Her manager hesitated, a grim expression on his face. "I don't really know how to tell you this, but... you might want to sit down."

"You're freaking me out a little." She said, sitting down in one of the small vanity's the regular dancers had, she started picking her fingers, an old habit she had learned since she was younger.

He took her hands gently, looking into her eyes with a pained expression. "Y/N, your dad has passed. It's on the news."

Her eyes widened as the words hit her. "He... died?" she whispered, the shock numbing her completely.

Her stylist moved in to hug her, offering soft reassurances, "It's going to be okay," but the words felt like they had no meaning at all.
She was stunned, unable to process the reality. How did this happen? "I need to go back to the house," she blurted out, her voice detached. Both the manager and stylist exchanged glances. She wasn't crying, nor did she seem visibly upset-just distant, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Uh, yeah, of course," the manager stammered, shaking his thoughts from his head. "How much time do you need?"

"One week," she replied, her tone final. This was gonna be one hell of a week.

_________

Hey guys, this is my first fanfic I've written, I appreciate any feedback, questions, etc.
Also, I will update this book every 4, 14, and 24 of every month at 9pm EDT.

- Rosaria

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1,024 words.