𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Stood Up

au where she gets stood up and hes there

___

It was an understatement to say that Lydia was embarrassed at the moment.

Her date sort of forgot to show up, and she was sitting in a fancy restaurant all alone wearing the cute dress she bought at Macy's the night before. Her fingers curled around the violet sparkly hand purse that itched her skin and made marks upon it. She had nothing else to do besides soak up her embarrassment with her fingers twilding the object like a sponge.

Her eyes wandered around the restaurant, seeing the looks on behalf the whole population around her. Elderly eyes filled with sorrow gazed at her from a far and muttered things to themselves. Younger adults looked at her with mockitry, and a look that kind of signified that she was just a big joke. Wealthy parents with their spoiled children looked to her with apologetic stares since the kids couldn't keep their minds to themselves and mutter "Why is that girl alone?"

Lydia's gaze ended up in her lap, and she closed her eyes fearfully, hoping a tear wouldn't fall. She hated this. This was suppose to be the breakthrough of a relationship.

Her date, Jackson Whittemore, was a wealthy man. His parents were rich, and the boy grew up getting everything he wanted in life. His life itself was handed to him on a silver platter, and then a gold platter since the boy preferred gold, just because it looked more expensive. He was an attractive man, well dressed, well educated, but poorly mannered.

His parents met Lydia's through work. And since Lydia's parents met Jackson, they've been practically forcing Lydia to marry the stuck up asshole. Hell, they would marry him instead- all for inheriting the money the Whittemore's had. Lydia hated it. She hated it when her parents would live vicariously through her, and she hated it that she let them do so.

So now, being at a date that Lydia was forced to be to, was horrible. The boy didn't even show up, for Christ's sake, and Lydia looked pathetic as it was. Jackson wasn't even answering her texts or any sort of call, so she decided to wait just five more minutes. Just in case he was driving.

Lydia didn't want to be here, but she couldn't leave. If she left, and he showed up, her parents would never let her hear the end of it. It was a childish rule and she envied the fact that other people could love whoever they want despite financial issues. All that mattered, and ever will matter, is the money for her parents. They didn't care about Lydia. They wanted a new Range Rover that was paid for.

"Miss, is your party going to be arriving soon?" said a waiter, who ended up next to her while she was thinking. She looked up to the older woman and saw her eyes glistened with sympathy.

Lydia shrugged it off and answered with the words she has been saying for what felt like hours, "He'll be here soon." And he wasn't going to come. Lydia knew that. She knew that she was making an entire fool out of herself because she was waiting upon someone who will never show up. She's waiting on someone who won't even give her the time of day.

With the champagne sitting on the table, she poured herself a tiny glass, the beverage being the second this night. She didn't care though. No matter how drunk she could get he wouldn't care and just eat by himself. If he even showed up.

The girl sighed with the rim of the glass against her dark lips, her eyes scanning the room once more to find a few more eyes on her. She hated this feeling of attention. Sure, she wouldn't mind it walking down the hall with her a new dress on, but attention like this was something that nobody ever wanted. It was humiliating and hurtful. It nipped at her ego piece by piece and she was suddenly becoming that insecure girl that everyone once knew. She hated this.