"I chased something that wasn't worth the chase and because of that I paid the price."
___________________________________________________
She has her secrets. Her mysteries. Her lies. But nothing as exciting, nor devastating, as the perilous advent...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
┍━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┑ Prologue ┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙
The crowd of patrons gathered like a herd of wildebeest around a small watering hole. Their eyes flickered over the photographs, laid out neatly and precisely, and their lips smacked erratically as they gossiped over the exquisite work.
At the head of the gathering crowd stood a small, young girl. Beatrice Hargreeves. Her daisy coloured hair was pinned back tightly, loose strands falling down the sides of her pale, almost white, face. Her dull grey eyes darted over everyone, giving a brief nod or smile and a "thank you" here and there.
"Miss Hargreeves," an entrepreneur, a young man, around a similar age to the albino girl, moved to the front of the crowd. "How is it you find your ideas for what you are photographing? And at such a young age, to be able to get such a following!"
"Oh," she smiled sweetly, resting a finger on the corner of her pale pink lips. "Wouldn't you like to know."
He nodded, a soft smirk clutching at the edges of his mouth, and moving on to the next piece. She giggled quietly and continued with her usual routine of her greetings, thanks, and farewells. The exhibit slowly emptied and soon, all that was left were the few photographers and those working in the gallery.
Beatrice, or Bee for short, slowly started to pack away her work, neatly putting it into her portfolio. The room fell to nothing more than a whisper until an older woman, in a tight silk white dress walked towards her. Her low heels clicked on the wooden floor as she finally reached the young woman.
She was around her mid-forties, much older than Beatrice, yet at first glance they looked about the same age. Her thick black hair held a glowing shine and swayed effortlessly along with her hips and shoulders. She clutched a long clipboard tightly to stomach and chewed on the end of her pencil, sticking it behind her ear as she reached Bee.
"Miss Hargreeves-" she began, a soft whisper, before the girl reached up her hand to interrupt.
"Please, Samantha," She chuckled, shaking her headed softly. "I've told you to call me Beatrice, or Bee for short." She sighed, turning away from her work to Samantha.
"Beatrice." She smiled, mindlessly brushing her short black hair behind her ear. However her face quickly fell to one of age. "Your Uber is here. I asked to him to wait around the side of the building for you."
"Thank you," Bee quickened her pace at putting her work away. "I'll be there right away!" She smiled her pearly whites and Samantha nodded away, writing something down onto her clipboard.
