I Love you

5. Masquerade

5

An invitation came to our house the next day. It was an ivory perfumed card with elegant flower cravings, inviting us to the upcoming masquerade soiree (ball) of a certain person on the Upper East Side. I usually don’t go to these types of soirees as I think of them as a waste of time. However, today was different. I was holed up peacefully in my room doing some homework while listening to music when my mother practically burst into my room, threw open the heavy mahogany doors of my walk-in-closet, nearly breaking it.

I sat up terrified. My mother usually is the calm, peaceful lady type, which by the way is very different from her current behavior. She ordered me to stop lazing around and to get into the closet instantly. I got up lazily, dragging my heavy feet into the closet and freaked out when I saw the deadly scene.

My usually spotless clean, organized closet looked as if a bomb went off. Clothes were scattered around so were my purses, totes, shoes, pants, tops, dress and all those accessories you could imagine. My hysterical looking mother, standing in the middle, was literally trashing my closet, which by the way is very, I mean, very, odd.

After she kept trashing my unrecognizable closet for a certain amount of time she finally settled and took out a floor length figure hugging light peach gown from a hanger. I didn’t really know it was there. I get these kinds of dresses all the time from different brands and designers, asking me to wear them, asking me to have their dresses be plastered on magazines and tabloids. I rarely even look at them due to those facts.

The dress was Chanel couture. It was a quarter sleeved, slightly sequined along the empire waist, figure hugging floor length gown made of pure silk and chiffon. The sleeves were made up of pale peach chiffon, but the other parts were made of silk. It was smooth like flowing water, looked innocent and chic, everything but sexy. My dad would freak out if he ever saw his youngest baby girl be dressed in anything sexy.

The dress was simply breathtaking. I regret not noticing it before. Trusting the dress and half silver mask into my hand my mother asked me to get ready for the upcoming soiree. A maid was sent into my room to help me get ready.

As the ball was starting in mere hours, I decided to take a shower as quickly as I could before getting ready swiftly. I asked my brunette hair to be in an elegant but simple chignon completed with a silver sparkling headband I bought from Gucci. The makeup I decided to put on was not heavy. It was light, simple and natural, showing off my flawless clear skin. I just mascara my lashes, opening up my eyes and allowing my hazel eyes to be clearly seen. A tint of orange based lipstick on my lips and I was ready. I put on the dress, my pearly white Mary Jane Pumps and completed the look with my favorite gold charm bracelet Austin got me for my sweet sixteen. 

I grabbed my white Steve Madden clutch and the mask and headed out. My father was already downstairs waiting for my mother and me to finish getting ready. My father is the kind of person who likes to be punctual and hates being late. He kept glancing at his watch, his handsome face slightly marked with a frown. My dad had his graying blond hair slick back which was rare and made him look a bit awkward, but handsome nonetheless. My elder brother who just arrived back from Paris was slouching on the couch. He looked exactly like my father when he was young; the only variation was the brownish-blond hair he got from our mother. He could practically make all the girls in a single room faint just by simply scanning the perimeter.

I haven’t seen my brother for some time as he was studying in Paris, which is odd, because with his brain and his marks, he could get into Harvard easily.  He got up when he saw me and had me in a terrifying hug, chocking me slightly.

“Baby doll! Look at you, all grown up now!” He exclaimed beaming looking at me from head to toe.

I folded my arms and looked at him through scrunched eyes.