Lynnianna Keating.
That name to most means royalty. But to her it meant nothing. Lynni hated the way she was. Being a Kook was torture. Fancy parties, big houses. Not her forte. So, how does a Kook change the way her life is? She befriends a pogue...
MIDSUMMERS. It was a pinnacle of high society tradition—a lavish, exclusive, Kook's only event where the elite of the island gather under twinkling lights that are hung from towering poles spread throughout the estates yard. Caterers in a tuxedo and white gloves pass around crystal flutes of champagne and trays of caviar-cover oysters, while music played softly through speakers that were hung from the wrap-around porch.
The black SUV rolled up to the grand estate bathed in golden twilight, its cobblestone driveway lined with lanterns and white roses. Music floated through the air—soft melodies coming through the speakers mixing with the sound of laughter and champagne glasses clicking. Lynnianna sat stiffly in the back seat, her satin silk dress clinging to her skin in the humidity, her expression unreadable as her little sister pressed excitedly against the window, squealing about the lights and the gowns and the beautifully displayed decoration.
Scarlett, perfectly composed in pearls and pastel silk, reached over to fix a wild strand of her daughter's hair. "Smile, Lynni. We're Keatings," she whispered, like it was a spell. Dylan adjusted his cufflinks, already scanning the crowd outside for business allies in tuxedos.
But Lynni didn't move.
She stepped out only when the door was opened for her, heels clicking on stone, face bathed in the glow of string lights overhead. To the watching crowd, she looked every bit the perfect debutante: elegant, polished, serene. But inside, she was bristling.
The champagne towers, the flower crowns, the "Knight of the Rhododendron" ceremony—it all felt hallow. Preformed. Like a play her family insisted on starring in this year. Every year, when a family was coronates "Guardian of the Knight of the Rhododendron" a member of the Keating's were the ones to do the coronation. Since her grandfather passed away a few months before they moved, Dylan Keating was now the one responsible.
Lynni walked between her parents and little sister towards the crowd, past a white tent that held Heyward and Pope cooking. All she could think about was how long she'd have to pretend tonight before she could sneak away unnoticed.
"I'm going to get a drink," she mumbled to her mother before receiving a nod. Lynnianna walked away and towards the estate building, walking through the giant double doors. Chatter filled her ears and her heels clicked against the wooden floors.
