Hopeful and Hopeless

Seventeen.

"Take one fresh and tender kiss. Add one stolen night of bliss. One girl, one boy, some grief, some joy... memories are made of this." - Johnny Cash

Friday, April 6th, 2018

REFLECTIONS NEVER LIE. At least that's what my Mum used to tell me. I lean on the cold sink, narrowing my eyes at myself in the clean mirror.

How long ago did I let myself get this way? How long ago was it when I just gave up on myself, gave up on feeling. 4 years of pushing away any kind of feeling, all leading to this night where they would all come back to me.

A woman, resembling the warm touch of a mother. A guy. who makes my heart beat at a million miles an hour. Who makes me feel wanted.

A tear rolls down my cheek and I push it away, sniffling loudly. I let out a long breath. You can't cry, not now. Dabbing at my face, I fix myself up in an effort to not make it obvious that I'm emotional. I flash myself a smile in the mirror momentarily in an effort to convince myself that I am alright.

I know I'm not alright, it has been a long time since I was alright.

Adjusting my dress and fixing up my hair, I turn to the bathroom door to make my way back out into celebration. My heels click along the tiles and I swing open the door, exposing myself to the thump of the music.

Standing outside the bathroom is Mr Berkeley. I shoot him a quick smile, walking past him but his hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me close to him.

"Are you having a good night, Emilie?" He asks, taking his hand off of me. I wince, shaking my arm a little, taken aback from his aggressive gesture. Normally carrying himself with poise, this is the last thing. Would've expected he would do.

"Yes, I am, Mr Berkeley. You?" My voice wavers as I look up at the man towering over me.

"It's quite a lovely night." His voice is deep and stern. He takes a step towards me and I follow in sport, taking a step back. "I would like for you to stay away from my son. He is a very busy man and doesn't need any silly little distractions in his life. Especially lower class distractions." He looks me up and down and I bite my cheek nervously, looking down at my hands that are beginning to shake.

He always seemed like a nice enough man, but I always had a gut feeling that there was more to him. I look up and around the room, my eyes connecting with Lukas. He looks between the two of us and frowns, obviously seeing right through my uncomfortable mood.

There is a lot of truth in Mr Berkeley's words and I was stupid to even think I may have had the slightest chance with Lukas. We are from two completely different worlds. A charity case. That's what I am.

Imagine the headline 'Berkeley family supports disadvantaged cafe owner and her disabled sister.' That certainly would be a good thing for their families reputation.

"Yes, Sir," I mutter in reply.

"You could never mean anything to him, he has far more important things going on in his life to care about someone like you." Ouch, "You're just a pretty girl that will keep him entertained, trust me, he is just like me. I know that boy inside and out." The stabbing pain in my chest returns and I let out a small sob, a tear cascading down my cheek. "The last I expect to see of you is at the Gala. You will make the food then leave, nothing more, nothing less. Is that clear?" His voice is raspy.

"Yes," I say quickly before rushing off away from him. I push through the dancing crowd, brushing past Lukas. He watches me as I move swiftly, trying to find my way to the doors leading outside.