The S.T.F. Files, Book 1: S.T.F.

Once Upon A Quinceanara

Damien's POV 

"Are you serious?" I ask. 

"Damien, I am always serious," Grandma says. 

"Your lesson starts today at 4. I suggest you get ready," Mother says. She never spoke to me after the incident so I was surprised to hear her voice. 

"Fine," I take my leave. Geez, I step in the house for five minutes and I already get sent someplace. This was a new record. 

"Damien..." Arisa asks. 

"When is Margarita's quinceanara?" I cut her off. 

"Tommorrow!" Arisa's face lights up. Tommorrow! Oh my gosh. 

"Okay, thanks!" I say cheerfully and run off. Learning how to ballroom dance in one day...I don't think so. 

"Damien. I am your instructor, Mrs. Estella. Please, let us begin," a woman says. I didn't realize that I ran in here. 

"Umm, right," I say. We dance the whole day. I never knew ballroom dancing was this easy. Even though I am only doing the waltz and turning her around a few times. 

"This party will be a masquerade ball after the ceremony," Mrs. Estella says. 

"Oh, ok," I confirm. Okay, I know I ran away, but if this was coming up like this someone should have called me a few weeks ago. 

The Next Day... 

"I can't believe today's the day! The time has come!" Grandma says, dancing in her seat. 

"Yeah Grandma," I force a smile on my face. I didn't want to be in a dumb ceremony. 

But everyone was dressed nicely. Everyone looked relaxed too. But not me. My tuxedo was trying to kill me. I swear this thing was purposely cutting off my blood flow. 

The room was filled with hushed whispers. 

"Damien came back?" a woman asks. 

"I heard he ran away for a long time..." another one says. 

"Do you think he is still as cute?" another girl smiles. 

"I heard Damien has issues. I also heard that he got them from his mother..." a man says. 

"Hi," I say smiling brightly. 

"D-Damien?" the first girl says. 

"I just wanted you to know that I heard your whole conversation. Personally, I don't care if you talk about me. But if you every say a damn word about my mother I will choke you to death in a hot second," I threaten. Then I walk to my seat. The whole table was silent the rest of the way. I sigh. I think I spent too much time with Riza. But I have to admit, it was funny what she told that flight attendant when we were on the plane a few weeks ago. 

"And now...the star of this ball...Margarita Gomez," the man announces. The room falls silent as spotlights flash on the doors. But the doors don't open. The man clears his throat. 

"And now...the star of this ball...Margarita Gomez," the man repeats. The doors still don't open. 

"Margarita is having technical difficulties!" I yell and rush to the exit. 

"Damien!" Grandma calls, but I ignore her. I finally make it to the doors where Margarita was supposed to enter, but she wasn't there. 

"Mar? Margarita?" I call. 

"What?" a voice chokes. 

"Mar? What's wrong?" I sit down beside her. Tears ran down her face and landed on the floor beside her. 

"He won't dance. Daddy said he won't dance with me because I am not his daughter," Mar cries. 

"What do you mean you're not his daughter?" I ask enrages. 

"He said I am not fit to be his daughter because I am too soft. He wants a strong daughter who will fight for everything," Margarita sobs. 

"He can't change your personality and you shouldn't change for him," I tell her. 

"Are you sure? But he's my..." Margarita tries. 

"I'm sure. Let's go... This is your night, remember?" I cut her off. She smiles. 

"Thank you, but I have no shoes," Margarita looks at the floor. I run away, search my mom's closet for shoes, and come back with plastic slippers. One by one I place them on Mar's feet. 

"I know they may look like plastic, but they're really flexible glass," I say. 

"Damien?" Margarita laughs. 

"What?" I look up. 

"I'm 15. You don't have to lie to me like I'm 5," Mar tells me. I smile. 

"Well, it's time," I call out to the darkness. 

"Wha?" Mar stutters. 

"Now presenting...Margarita Gomez," the announcer smiles. I hold my hand out and Margarita places her hand in mine. 

"You ready?" I ask. 

"Yeah," Mar grins. 

"Wait!" I say. I grab a pink mask out of the box next to me and put it on her face. I put my mask on and we both take a deep breath in and let it out. I push open the door and lead her down the stairs. The crowd oooo's and awww's. 

"Margarita, you look so beautiful," Grandma calls, tearing up. 

"Damien, is Grandma really..." Margarita questions. 

"Just ignore her. She acts like its your wedding," I whisper. Mar giggles. I scan the crowd until I spot Mar's dad. I knew it was him behind that mask. Everyone had a mask, but he was obvious. He left outside and never came back. I wanted to curse him out, but instead I held my tongue. The music started played. Mar's first dance. I turn to Margarita. 

"May I have this dance?" I ask. 

"Certainly," Mar blushes. I take her hand and lead the way. When I twirl her around, I saw a glimpse of red hair. 

"Cleo?" I murmur. The woman turns around and I notice that's not Cleo's face. Cleo? What was I thinking? Cleo was headed somewhere else. I saw her too. 

"Is something wrong?" Margarita asks me. 

"Nothing," I reassure her. Why was I thinking of the STF? I spun Mar around again and danced the night away.