The Last Rose

Chapter 1: The Wrong Room

“Stop it,” the sleepy girl mumbled into the pillow, half-asleep, as the afternoon heat sneaked through her window and stroke her cheek. It was the beginning of September, but the sun wasn’t quite pleased with the status quo. It had been mercilessly scorching Louisiana with its heat, waking the girl from her fake nap.

She turned off the tape that played Green Day’s Know Your Enemy which, apparently, made the day felt even hotter. The first thing that she realized as she went out of her new room and went downstairs was the strong smell of cookies that had just been pulled out of the oven, fondling her nostrils. Helen's Bakery, named after her aunt, was flocked with customers on this hot afternoon. She quickly escaped their glances and went straight to the kitchen. 

“Seravina, what a surprise! I swear I heard you say you’re gonna stay in that room forever.”

Excuse her mother’s sarcastic tune. Well, she hadn’t been a really nice daughter lately—who’s to blame? You can’t expect a 16-year-old to act fine when her parents suddenly filed a divorce, can you? Moreover, she wasn’t used to being in a small town like Brusly.

“Well, I’m thirsty,” Seravina refused to swallow her pride and opened the giant fridge in the even-more-giant kitchen. Her mother smiled. “Come on, Seravina, this place isn’t as bad as you think,” she rubbed her daughter’s back. “Now, why don’t you help your aunt with all this mayhem?”

Seravina looked around. Back in Chicago, her aunt Helen was poor. So she decided to bring her only daughter back to her hometown and start over. Her determination was fruitful, because just two years afterwards, she was able to start a business in bakery. Seravina’s eyes fell on a big box on the kitchen table, unattended. Oh, please—

“You can help with that, can’t you?” her mother gave her a smile. “Your aunt and I—and all the workers—we’re totally busy today. That cake can’t be forgotten, it’s for a big birthday party somewhere in Port Allen. You can deliver it, can’t you?”

“Mom…” Seravina rolled her eyes. Her mother quickly reached her pocket and handed her some cash.

“Just take the cab. It won’t take you ten minutes to go there,” she said. “I don’t trust you with Gregoria’s motorcycle, so--“

Seravina was about to open her mouth and tell her mother that there was no way she would ride her cousin’s horrifying motorcycle, but she was too tired to do so. Her head started spinning and something clutched her from the inside. Hiding her face so her mother could not see her pain, she ran to the cake box and carried it. “I’ll be home soon.”

-

“Is this the place?”

Seravina did not dare to step out of her cab. Crap—she did not know a place like this would exist in Louisiana. She could’ve worn something better. Some other cabs were in front of hers, and from there, she could see formally-dressed men and women coming out. The name of the place was Peridan Luxe. Seravina thought it was a hotel, but according to her cab driver, it was a luxurious building chopped into several ballrooms for party or meeting purposes.

“Definitely, Miss,” the cab driver laughed. Seravina handed him some cash and opened the cab door. “Keep the change,” she muttered as she struggled to carry the cake box.

-

“You’re really a pain in my ass, Theo!” meanwhile, on the other side of Port Allen, a girl was scolding fiercely. Her big eyes seemed like they could escape her thick glasses with her rage. “You do know how big this party is to Destiny. You do know that she wants a special performance from her best buds. I have been literally texting you everyday for practice, and now, few hours before the real deal, you dare come to my house and tell me—“