The music blared beneath his feet as Ah Si eyed himself critically in the mirror, sighing at the mournful face that greeted him. He could hear muted chatter as guests began to arrive and his head pounded as he anticipated the mindless small talk he would be forced to endure that night. He was in a spare room in Jing's opulent house, poised to attend her lavish 24th birthday party, however, he had never felt less like celebrating. The young man twiddled his bow tie fitfully, crinkling the edges as he furiously attempted to drive Dong Shancai from his thoughts. He had been haunted by her for days and his heart was battered; he just wanted some relief, some respite from his remorse for a short while. However, his knuckles ached at his erratic movements, the skin tender and swollen after his rash actions several days before. Guilt flooded him anew as he recalled her horrified eyes, her fearful words as she had cowered in terror in his arms; "Daoming Si.... Please stop." He closed his eyes fretfully as her scared voice rang through his consciousness, the orbs stinging unwillingly as he recalled bumping into Shancai the day before; it had been the very first time he had seen her since the incident, and the sight of her had hit him like a wrecking ball. She had looked so small and fragile standing in the rain on the bridge, the distance so short yet so unbearably far; he had found himself frozen as they came face to face, his broken heart beating a jagged rhythm in his chest. Please talk to me his eyes had screamed, but his aching throat had allowed him to utter no words. The Tiny One had stopped in her tracks, horrified at the mere sight of him, and he had died a little inside at her terrified expression. She was afraid of him, and it had injured his soul. Her eyes had been wide and uncertain; he had beseeched her silently, his face intent and his head shaking side to side imperceptibly without his instruction, begging her wordlessly not to run from him, to forgive him for his despicableness. His prayers were in vain, of course; she had fled from him without a backwards glance, once again leaving the almighty Daoming Si stricken in her wake. What else could he expect? His stomach twisted ruefully at the memory, and he rested his head against the cool glass of the mirror, hoping to dull the pain pulsing in his temples and the turmoil roiling in his heart.
A loud knock from his door jolted him from his morbid memories, and Ah Si gave his outfit a last once over before heading to answer it, carefully schooling his features into an indifferent mask. He was flawless as usual; despite his inner pain, he had been raised to always project a brave face in public; that's what being a Daoming was all about after all, he reflected bitterly, keeping up appearances. His suit was plush, and he had even managed to inject a little glamour with his jaunty bow tie and beaded hair (his pineapple, as she called it, he thought to himself sadly). It was a shame he didn't feel up to the party, as he was usually the life and soul. He found himself wondering how long this heartache would last as he pulled open the door, the excited faces of Meizuo and Xi Men greeting him. There must have been something in his expression as the smile slipped slightly from Xi Men's face as he queried "are you okay, man? You look really, really pale." Ah Si was really starting to doubt the effectiveness of his poker face and he scowled deeply as he shrugged off his friend's concern, answering coolly "it's nothing. Let's go get drunk." Meizuo clapped him on the shoulder with a shout of laughter, exclaiming "that's the spirit!" and Ah Si couldn't help the minuscule smile that tugged his lips upwards. Like it or not, his friends always managed to lift his spirits, and he was grateful as they hauled him out of his dark pit of despair.
Even heartbroken and drawn, Ah Si knew how to make an entrance; all eyes were on him as he strode into the room, his swagger pronounced and his features carefully blank. Admiration was what he was used to, what he thrived on; it was so different to the cold indifference of the girl he loved. He didn't think he would ever gain her respect after their rooftop encounter. He shoved the thought brutally aside as he decided, unconvincingly, that he would make an effort to enjoy himself tonight, if only for Jing's sake; he didn't want to act as a black hole, sucking all the joy out of the proceedings. No, that was his mother's signature move, not his. The Daoming heir nodded politely at the greetings that flew his way, his smile polite and tight. None of these people were truly glad to see him, they thought only of the selfish gains his surname could bring them; they all sickened him, and Ah Si really had to work to keep his smile intact. He knew his friends were just as uncomfortable, but that was the price they paid for being part of China's elite; it was their burden to bear. But lord, did he need a drink! The trio made their way to the bar, and Ah Si glanced around the room appreciatively; Jing certainly had taste. The entire room was strewn with blue and white roses, every surface draped in ivory cloth and the majestic columns wound in fairy lights that gave the dance floor a dreamlike quality. It was elegant, understated and entirely Jing. Ah Si found himself wondering idly when Lei would pluck up the courage to divulge his feelings; hopefully he would be more successful with the heiress than Ah Si was with the Tiny One. Lei wasn't cursed with bad luck like Daoming Si was, he thought to himself pitifully, his mood sour despite his best efforts.
