Maya
Today has been a disaster. I want everyone out of my damn house. I have had my make-up redone three times and my hair four because Meredith didn’t like the styles. It wasn’t up to her standards or what people expect from her perfect daughter. It is taking everything I have in me not to lose my shit, tell Meredith to go to hell and throw the people out of my apartment. It isn’t their fault, though. They are all very nice and seem as terrified as me to stand up to Meredith.
I am finally ready, though, and a car will pick me up in half an hour.
“Thank you for your help today. I apologise for all the changes you needed to make,” I sigh.
“It is okay; we are used to it,” Carrie, the make-up artist, replies, and the others nod in agreement.
They gather their things, and I walk them out, making sure not to damage or crease my dress on the way. I thank them once more before they disappear.
I stroll through to my bedroom to take a look at myself in the full-length mirror. I don’t look anything like me. My glasses are gone and replaced with contacts. My dark hair, which I usually wear up, is down, flowing in curls over my shoulders. I don’t wear make-up, but now I am done up. The dress seems to hug the curves of my hips and pushes my boobs up. I do have to admit, for the first time in my life, I look and feel pretty. Hopefully, it will seem like I fit in tonight.
I take one last glance before I go to the kitchen. I bought a bottle of wine today because I need it to calm my nerves, but I will only have one small glass. It will be difficult tonight because I am terrible at socialising. I know I need to talk to some people, but I will make it short and sweet. Once the meal is over, I am sure I can find somewhere to hide for the rest of the night.
The ball is being held in the ballroom of the Ackley Hotel, one of many that the family owns, the same family who owns the place I work for. It is a beautiful, fancy hotel that costs thousands a night. It is a popular place for the rich and famous. The type of place someone like me should not be.
I pace as I drink, waiting for a message to say my car is here. I only manage a couple of mouthfuls before I can’t drink any more. I am not made to drink alcohol. I slide into my heels and make sure I have everything I need in my bag, including the invitation and cheque Meredith gave me to hand in.
I get a message to say my car is outside. I take a few deep breaths and carefully head outside because I am not used to heels like these. I prefer flats or kitten heels. The second I step outside, I am met with a black town car with tinted windows, and the driver is standing against it.
“Hello, I am Maya.” I smile.
“Good evening, ma’am. I am Derrick. I will be your driver to and from the event tonight,” he smiles.
Derrick is an older man, maybe in his late fifties, with a soft smile and dressed smartly in a suit and a hat.
I extend my hand to him, “It is nice to meet you, Derrick.”
He takes it and shakes it, “Thank you. You too, Maya. Are you ready to go?”
“Do I look okay?” I ask nervously, dropping his hand.
“You will be the belle of the ball.” He compliments.
I blush, “Thank you.”
He nods and opens the door for me to climb in. I smile and thank him one last time before he closes the door. I have twenty minutes to pull myself together before we arrive.
Derrick happily chats with me on the ride. I think he senses how nervous I am. I appreciate it. The car comes to a stop quicker than I would have liked.
“We are here already?” I panic.
“Yes. You will be fine. Walk in with confidence, even if you don’t feel it and smile.” He encourages.
“Thank you, you are very sweet,” I reply.
Derrick gets out of the car, and my door opens. I take a couple of deep breaths and put my mask on before I climb out. I am met with a red carpet, and the press is outside of the hotel. The guests looked incredible, and I became very self-conscious.
“You got this. Stand tall and smile. Text me if you want to leave early. If not, I will be here at one to pick you up.” he says.
I smile and nod. I can do this! I hope. I thank him one last time, and he stands by the car and watches as I walk the red carpet. I don’t stop for any photos and pivot around the people who are talking with the press. I step into the hotel, and it is all surreal. I show my invitation before entering the ballroom.
It is decorated in beautiful silver colours. Three beautiful diamond chandeliers hang from the ceiling. A live orchestra plays on the stage. I stop on the spot and take it all in. I can’t believe I am here! I hate I don’t know anyone, and even if I did, I couldn’t talk to them since I am supposed to be someone else. I think I have a lonely night ahead of me.
I am handed a glass of champagne, which I take. I take a small sip, hoping it will go down better than the wine. I make sure to stand to the side, out of the way of everyone else. I will need to find my table soon.
As I stand awkwardly, I feel like someone is staring. I dance my eyes around the room and soon find the person watching. It is a man who must be over six feet tall with dark hair and is dressed in an expensive black tux. A silver and black mask covers his face. Surely, he can’t be looking at me.
I glance around me, but there is no one else in sight. The stranger smiles at me. I return and feel my cheeks heat when I do. I break eye contact with him and rush off. I think now is a great time to find my seat. I am at table two. It doesn’t take long to see it, and I take my seat where it says Taylor. I am the first at the table.
I drink my champagne slowly as my leg bounces under the table. I better not be sitting with a bunch of assholes. I take a quick look around to see if the stranger is about, but I can’t see him. I wonder who he is? I probably won’t find out since everyone is in masks.
The guests start to take their seats. My table soon filled. It would seem the other four people at mine are couples. Great! Just what I need, the only single person here. They say a polite hello to me, which I return, but it is as far as it goes. The four talk amongst themselves, making me feel more out of place than ever. I have never wanted to run away before as much as I do now.
I down the last of my champagne and take another from the middle of the table. I will regret it later and tomorrow morning, but it is the only thing that will get me through this treacherous night. The second the meal is done, I am getting away from the table and won’t return for the remainder of the night.