The Imperfect Girl

Chp. 23- Wright or Wrong?

(Adeline's POV)

Damon sauntered into the house as if he owned the place, flashing his typical smug grin. 

I knew I had to act fast before my sisters got wind of him. 

I could already imagine the scene—hair twirling, high-pitched voices, and probably someone fainting just for dramatic effect. 

Yeah.
No, thank you.

"Upstairs," I muttered, grabbing his arm and practically yanking him toward my room, doing my best to avoid a 'Wright-family-induced crisis'. 

"Why the hell were you showing me random picture?" she asked, scowling.

Damon shrugged with a lazy grin. "Because if you knew it was me, you wouldn't have opened the door."

Adeline rolled her eyes. "You really thought that was clever?"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

We reached my room, and Damon whistled under his breath, casually glancing around. I could feel his gaze settle on the family portrait on my wall.

"Wow. Daughter of the Wright family?" He smirked. "Should've known. All that perfection practically radiates from the front door."

I scoffed. 

Perfection.

Sure.
If perfection meant fake smiles, constant pressure, and being paraded around like some sort of accessory. I hadn't even mentioned the constant comparisons to my sisters.

"Yeah, right. The perfect Wright family," I muttered sarcastically, unable to hold back the bitterness that came with those words. 

Damon's gaze lingered on me as he started walking around the room, casually inspecting my shelves and books, as if he was taking in a new side of me.

"They look perfect, sure," I continued, feeling a sudden urge to let it all out. "But it's all an act. A carefully crafted show for the world. Behind all that, it's nothing special. My sisters, my parents—they're all part of this... perfect illusion. But I never quite fit in."

Damon paused by my desk, picking up a book and flipping through the pages absentmindedly. "You don't seem like the type to care about fitting in," he said, not in his usual teasing tone but softer, more curious.

"It's not that I want to fit in," I admitted, sitting on the edge of my bed, "It's just... everyone expects me to be like them. To shine as bright. But I'm not them. I don't care about modeling, or reality TV, or all the glamorous stuff they obsess over. I care about..." I trailed off, feeling like I was saying too much. 

But then again, Damon was the one person who hadn't tried to mold me into something I wasn't.

Damon leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

I could almost see him piecing it together, realizing how different I was from the rest of my family. 

And for some reason, the way he looked at me—like he saw something no one else did—it did made me feel... different..

...in a good way.

"So, you just pretend to play along?" Damon asked, flipping through one of my old notebooks. "Go to the events, smile for the camera, and all that?"

"Pretty much. It's easier that way," I shrugged, feeling a heaviness in my chest. "If I resist, they'll just push harder. So, I go along with it... even though I feel like an outsider in my own family."

Damon chuckled under his breath, though it wasn't mocking this time. "You really don't match their vibe, do you?" he said, almost to himself. Then he added, "Not in a bad way though- no offence, k?"

I blinked at him, surprised. 

Damon Scott, of all people, conforting me? 

That too, in the most 'un-Damon-like way' possible? 

Who knew he could be so... perceptive?

He continued pacing around the room, picking up random things and putting them back down, but his mind seemed somewhere else. I could tell he was still processing everything I'd said about my family.

"The Wright family may be perfect," he said, pausing for a moment, "but maybe perfection's overrated."

I couldn't help but smirk at that. 

Damon Scott, voice of reason. 

What a twist.

I felt the weight of being Adeline Wright melt away, even if just for a second. 

Maybe Damon wasn't so bad after all.

___________