Ryan: Is it love - The original story (Game walk through)

Chapter three part one

I've been in the bathroom for two hours now! I spent ages making myself up in a sophisticated way! Thanks to youtubers and their valuable beauty tips. For the tenth time, I check if my eyeliner hasn't run and if nothing's out of place with my hair. It took me half an hour to straighten my hair and curl the ends before tying it all up in a loose bun. I look at myself one last time. I congratulate myself inside for the word done! With the dress, it'll be perfect! I gently unfold the Valentino dress and stare at it an instant. It really is beautiful. I carefully slip it on. The silk fabric slides over my bare skin. As I look at myself in the mirror, a smile comes across my face and my eyes glisten. The dress molds my curves perfectly. To the extent that I won't be able to put any underwear on without it showing. My shoulders are bare and the low-cut shape of its back lets my lower back show. Carter must be very observant for getting my size right. The dress fits so well that it's as if it was tailored for me. I blush at the thought that he should evaluate me so accurately. I check the time. 19h55 already! I'd better get a move on! I put my shoes on and my jewellery. No time to check myself over again, I have to go!

As I get outside the Limousine is already there. Stewart is waiting. He's typing on his telephone with his back against the car. As his eyes set on me, he pauses, obviously stirred.

Stewart > Er... Miss.

> Good evening Stewart.

He stutters a compliment and opens the door for me. I lift my dress up slightly and step into the vehicle. It wouldn't take much for me to think I'm going to the Cannes film festival.

> Thank you, Stewart.

He nods before closing the door. As he goes around the Limousine to get into the driver's set, I check my makeup one last time in the rear-view mirror.

Stewart > Mister Carter is already at the venue. We should be arriving in ten minutes.

> Oh ok.

The thought of meeting Carter there makes me nervous. Imperceptibly, my heart beats faster at the mere mention of his name.

> I'm really not used to this sort of reception. I hope I'm not off-tone.

Stewart gives me a kind look in the rear-view mirror.

Stewart > You're stunning.

I feel troubled. I'm not used to a man telling me I'm beautiful, especially when he doesn't expect anything in return. My mind stirs. What does this evening have in store? Will it be like in the movies?

As the Limousine stops in front of the Guggenheim Museum on the corner of the 89th street, my heart is about to explode. Calm down Lily, calm down! Stewart opens the door for me. I feel like a princess stepping out of her carriage to go and meet prince charming. Or not. Come back down to Earth Lily! You're just meeting your boss. Outside, several people are staring at me. They must be wondering who I could be to arrive in such pomp! I feel totally uneasy. I hate attracting attention! If I could, I'd get back into the car and hide! Stewart closes the door. He comes towards me.

Stewart > Would you like me to escort you?

I look at him gratefully.

> Yes, please.

He lends me his arm and we both walk towards the museum under the curous gaze of onlookers. I gasp as we walk in. Stewart lets go of my arm and wishes me a good evening. I watch him leave as if I was losing my guide in an unknown and dangerous forest. I examine the place as if it were mythical. Everything is absolutely magnificent from floor to ceiling. The architecture is surprising. A kind of propeller progressively comes down to the floor. Several contemporary artworks are exposed all along the banister rail. A privatized museum for Mr. Carter's charity ball. It doesn't surprise me coming from him! He doesn't do things by half! The place is crowded. Men in chic suits and women in designer cocktail dresses. Most of the people are talking in front of the works of art. Others are just observing the crowd. Everything exudes luxury and opulence. I don't feel at all in my place. The last time I splashed out on a dress was on a private sales sit. A 150 dollar "splurge". Here you need to add at least two zeros to the bill. Suddenly a masculine voice surprise me!