Forbidden

Chapter 2- Forbidden

New chapter, new story, ENJOY!

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Wards P.O.V.

     "Ward? Are you even listening to me?" My mom pestered. She is trying to talk to me about the 'ball' tonight. "Anyway, who cares. Tomorrows News new 'protege' Annabelle? You know her? Scarves and boots? Yea, you know her. Anyway, she is going to be there. Like you, this is her first Masquerade and she will be confused..." She continued to ramble like this forever, talking about how horrible and awkward Annabelle is, I have only seen her a couple of times so I can't really relate.

     "YOU AREN'T LISTENING TO ME! I am giving you very useful information about the Wrongs!" Mom screamed at me. 'Wrong' is the nickname for the 'Wrights.' It's part of our little (little=HUGE) fued. My mom glared at me and then spun on her heel and walked away. She does this ALL the time, walking away when my siblings or I don't listen to her, which is often. 

    "I love you too, Mom," I replied sarcastically. I walked out the back door (back doors are the best if you're a celebrity) to go on my run. I am not a fitness nut, but I try to workout every other day (mostly runs.) I started down the block to the park going at about 70% speed. Once I got there, I saw someone that I did not want to see. Devin Wright walking his beagle, Trudy (no idea why he named the poor dog that.) Knowing how this was going to end (hint: badly) if I didn't move, I slowly backed away, but it was too late.

     "HEY MEYER! TOO CHICKEN TO TALK TO A MAN?" Devin yelled at me, the oldest child Wright, for some reason he felt a special obligation to hate us Meyers. I don't personally understand the feud, but what can I do? He approached me with hate in his eyes. Well, the press will have a field day today. I thought, granted I will one day own a press company, but we can't do any of our own stories for obvious reasons. 

     "Just let me finish my run, I am going to the masquerade tonight," I muttered.

    "The same one that my baby sister is going to? She's leaving right now to get ready, actually there she goes now," he pointed to a white Mercedes driving by, I vaguely saw a lock of platinum blond hair in the back seat, no doubt Theresa Wright, CEO of Tomorrows News. "No one's going to pay attention to you when she walks in, my baby sister is so beautiful," He smiled. His beagle got a little bored so he laid down and yawned, I wished I could've laid down.

     "Do I look like I care," I retorted. He though for a moment.

     "No, neither do I" he replied.

     "Exactly," I turned and started to jog away. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that he was doing the exact same thing. I rolled my eyes and continued on my way back home.

     After about ten more minutes of running and a few detours I returned home to the wonderful sound of a wailing sister.

    "Why can't I go Daddy? Can I please, please, please, please go? Pretty Please!" Meredith wailed to my Dad, who was working on an article about ISIS for AMN. Some context clues about my sister: She's 12, waily, whinny, and a pain in my side. My Dad was ignoring her, which was a very smart move considering Meredith's attitude. But finally, his tension span broke.

    "You know very well why you can't go: A. the minimum age is sixteen, and your twelve. B. its a media party for people working in media and people with futures in media. You fall into neither categories. You are twelve and want to be an archeologist. C. its invitation only, so I doubt you will ever go to that ball!" My dad yelled at Meredith. He may have said it in a harsh way, but it's true, she probably will never go to the ball, it's the hard truth. But on the other hand, she has been asking the exact same question for the past six weeks.  

    Meredith, trying to impersonate Mom (and almost accomplishing it,) spun on her heel and walked away. My Dad shook his head and went back to working on his article. I looked at him and sighed and went to my room.

    At this point it was about noon, so I quickly took a cold shower and went back downstairs to make myself a sandwich. But when I got there, our butler Gerald was waiting for me with a turkey sandwich and some salted club chips. He knew me to well. 

    "Thanks Gerald," I thanked, with my mouth half full.

    "The pleasures all mine Ward. I hope you have fun tonight, blow them away," he replied. Gerald is a great, old man and his daughter works at AMN for the comic strip.

    "Thanks again, say ''Hi'' to Betsy from me," he nodded and walked back to the kitchen. I took another bite out of his sandwich and almost moaned, his sandwiches are so good. I walked back to my room and I watched an episode of 'The Flash.'

    At this point it was about one and we had to leave in four and a half hours. And I had nothing to do, so I read some random book off my shelf, I didn't even register what book it was. After I finished that book it was three and was just as bored as before. Once I put the book back on my shelf in a random place, I decided to go pester my brother Jacob.

    Jacob's room is on the other side of the house, and our house is large, so it took me a bit to get there. When I got there and knocked on his door. I didn't know why I wanted to pester Jacob, I just knew I just did. 

     He opened the door, and before he could say or do anything, I slipped into his room and sat on his couch and grabbed an Xbox controller. 

    "Call of Duty?" I offered.

    "What are you doing in my room?" he asked, as he asked this he turned on the screen.

    "I need something to do, and I thought, 'Why not bother Jacob?'"

    "Whatever," he slid the disc into the Xbox and grabbed a controller and plopped down next to me. 

    Three rounds later, two wins for him, one for me. It was four and I needed to get ready, I said goodbye and left his room. I ran downstairs and grabbed some chocolate pretzels before going to my room. 

    Once I got there, I finished my pretzels and took another shower, because my mom would have a heart attack if I didn't. I brushed my teeth three times with super minty toothpaste that made my eyes water whenever I used it. I slicked back my dusty hair with some gel and washed my face again for good measure.

     I put on my tuxedo with a lime green bowtie. At my school, I am part of the 'Bowtie Club' where we swear never to wear normal ties, and I never break my promises. On my sleeves I put my  cross cufflinks. I put on my lucky, green, recently washed, green socks, and black shoes. To top it all off and prove that I'm going to a masquerade, I slid on a basic green mask. I looked in a mirror, and I looked good.

    At this point it was five and we need to leave. I left my room and walked down the stairs, resisting the urge to slid down the railing. My mom and dad were both standing outside the limo waiting for us. I smiled at them, I was about to say something but...

    "OH MY GOSH HONEY YOU LOOK SO HANDSOME!" screeched my mom. She tended to get over excited over the little things. Although, I did agree with her.

    "Can we just go? This is my 'release to the world,'" I suggested. She nodded her head and pushed me into the limo along with dad. The drive there was realistically only twenty minutes, but it felt like an eternity. All I could think was, What if I fail? What if I get on someone important bad side? What if someone laughs at my bowtie? Among various other things. In short, I was terrified. 

    Once we got there time basically stopped for me. Everything was a blur, stepping out of the car, smiling for the camera's, walking into the Grand Hotel. Realistically, it was about thirty seconds, but it felt like hours. Time definitely slows down when your petrified. Once I stepped into the ballroom, a beautiful girl caught my eye. 

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Cue bad cliffhanger. I hope you enjoyed this part, if you did, vote, and comment below, constructive criticism only please. Thanks again, BYE!