𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓 (ANGEL)
Older. Scary. Silent.
Damon Lars was always lurking in the shadows, a sinister presence that scared me. It would be oblivious for me not to notice him even in the darkest areas. He was there. Maybe invisible to ot...
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(lmao imagine this as a red dress)
_
AVERY CRIST
"Sweetheart, are you sure?" Mama Crist asked, her voice laced with concern as she zipped up Stella's shimmering silver gown. "This is our first public appearance after all of those... deaths with the Raven and Russel families. Are you really sure you can handle it? They'll talk about them—the paparazzi, the guests—everyone."
I held my breath, the air thick with tension as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The bold red lipstick I'd chosen felt like a mask, daring and defiant. My chest rose and fell with the weight of the evening pressing down on me.
"I can do this," Stella muttered, her tone firm as she adjusted the straps of her dress. "I deal with the paparazzi every day." Her voice wavered slightly, but she didn't let it crack. I couldn't say the same. This would be my first real public appearance, my first step into the spotlight since everything had fallen apart. I swallowed hard and forced myself to nod.
"I'll be fine," I said quietly, though my voice betrayed my uncertainty. "Just... a little upset Alessio won't be here."
Mama Crist turned to me, her warm, comforting gaze cutting through the storm of doubt swirling in my chest. "It's okay," she said gently. "Me, Xavier, and Grayson will be right by your side. And you have Stella. You'll be just fine."
"Thanks, Mom," I murmured, the word Mom tasting new and sweet on my tongue. "For everything. For helping me, for being patient, for finding me this dress."
She smiled, her eyes softening as she reached up to brush a stray curl from my face. "That's what moms are for, sweetheart. And you..." She paused, looking me over with a quiet pride. "You look stunning. Red really is your color. Avery, listen to me—you don't need Alessio by your side to hold your ground. Sure, he's a good guy, and he's there when you need him. But tonight, you're going to show the world that you're your own person. That you're strong. And I promise, Damon would be so proud of you."
A lump formed in my throat at the mention of Damon. I forced a small smile, blinking back the sudden sting in my eyes. "If only he were here," I whispered. "But I'm glad he's in Italy, finally happy. He deserves it."
Stella turned to me, her expression fierce and determined. "We'll get through this together, okay? You're not alone. Not tonight, not ever."
The words settled over me like a warm blanket, and I took a deep, steadying breath. Tonight wasn't just about facing the whispers, the stares, or the cameras. Tonight was about reclaiming ourselves, showing the world that despite the heartbreak, the losses, and the ghosts that haunted us, we were still standing.
And I would stand tall.
Daisy nodded, her delicate hands fastening the zipper of my dress. Her eyes sparkled as she stepped back to admire her work. "Wow, you look beautiful. As always," she said, her voice bright with admiration. A small grin played on her lips as she pulled me to the corner of my bedroom, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Can I ask you for a favor?"
