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Of course, it would be my honor.
I lie through my teeth. I don't want to dance. I don't even want to be at this event. And even if I did want to dance, I especially wouldn't want to dance with her. Of all the eligible young women in the room, she is in the bottom five of girls I would want to dance with. All night long, I've seen her dance with the others. She's impossible to ignore, what with the way her knees jerk and hips swing wildly – she looks like she's having a medical emergency.
I laughed when she elbowed Tyson while they took a turn dance floor. But isn't this just the perfect world, because now I'll be the one on the receiving end of those knobby joints.
I suppose that's what I get for standing in the corner all night. What excuse can I have, other than I've been to a billion of these events and I've seen these people more than two billion times and I've never even had a need to see any of them in low lighting and formal wear in the first place?
But I've never seen her before. She came into the room all smiles and laughter and no manners, buddying up to everyone who gave her two seconds. She must be from the countryside to be that friendly. No one from the city would laugh as easily.
Her dress fits perfectly but the fabric is too shiny and it's easy to tell by the faulty stitching that is not the name brand quality of every other girl in the room.
Ah, why did she need to notice me? Why couldn't she be content with the people who like being the center of attention? If I am to be forced into a suit and tie and dragged to these things, why couldn't I be allowed to remain off to the side, ignoring the attendees? This is my life, to do with as I please – except it isn't.
And she obviously doesn't know who I am. She doesn't know that my name carries the weight of wealth and power and out-of-her-league. She offers her name as she slips her hand into mine but I don't want to know her name, so it slips from her tongue to deafened ears - as does the rest of her endless chatter.
Tala conceals his mocking smirk while hiding corner and I recall when that was me, moments ago. They all laugh at how I am trapped, like a bird in a cage, unable to open the door and fly away. But what other option do I have? As the heir, I have eyes and ears on me at all times, and turning down a perfectly respectable request for an innocent dance is perfectly disrespectful. It's unbecoming and sets a bad image for the company.
Blah, blah, blah.
Could you imagine? What if I had said the words that had really come to mind?
No, are you delusional? Sick? You must be if you think I would dare to step out into that spotlight with you on my arm. You, with your shabby dress and out of seasons shoes and a too-big smile and shiny eyes. I would have an awful time and so would you, I should add if you jabbed me in the ribs like you did poor Max, who has a much more tolerant attitude than me.
The press would have a field day capturing her tears and painting me as an entitled little horror.
There was no other option but to say: of course, it would be my honor.
"You don't need to grip my hand so tight. Just let me lead,"
She smiles at these words but her eyes quickly dip to our feet. With jarring, violent moves, I lead her through the dance, every step is a second too late.
"Oh, was that your shin?"
"Yes,"
"I am so sorry. I practiced in my room all week,"
"I see, it's not a problem,"
It most certainly is a problem! A root canal is less of a problem than this man-handling mistress. Nobody understands how much I wish I was sitting across the room, doing my job of silently judging those on the floor. Would it be too much to wish she was dead?
"Those are my shoes,"
"I'm really sorry,"
"It's fine."
To wish she was dead would be too kind to her. I wish she was being twirled around the room by someone just as overactive and talkative as her. She should be made to suffer through a thousand dances as painful as the one she is inflicting on me.
"It's so beautiful in here," she says, "like a winter wonderland."
"Yes,"
"I hear the Hiwatari's always go all out,"
"Of course they do,"
"Do you know them personally?"
"You could say that,"
"This is my first time at an event like this,"
When will this song be over? It's clear that she's not being malicious, she's just stupid. And who am I to downpour my misery all over her? Maybe I wouldn't be such sorry company if this were my first event, but it wasn't. I should send her to Ray's arms, he would know how to treat her. I look around, trying to catch his eyes, pleading telepathically for a savior. No, he refuses, with that knowing smirk that I hate.
"You're friend?"
"No."
She carries on, speaking of her friends who are not here. As if I'd be interested. Finally, the song comes to an end and I bow to her, ready to make my escape.
My grandfather is standing right behind me as I turn around. One look from his hard eyes tells me what I am going to do. I turn around and ask the happy girl for a second dance. Why, why, why? The next dance is faster than the first and she has an even harder time keeping up.
"Ag!"
"Was that the same shin?"
"Yes,"
"I really did practice."
"It's my fault, I should lead better. Perhaps I'm the one who needs practice," HA! I've been through enough dance classes to know that my movements are perfectly timed.
"You're such a gentleman,"
Look at her – she's so bright, so happy to be here. If only we could trade places and she could attend a billion and one of these things while I could do whatever it is she does with her time. Clearly, she does it alone or someone would have told her the make-up she chose was too garish for someone as young as her.
"You must be getting tired,"
"Me? No. But what about you – you've been dancing all night."
"Well, my shoes are starting to pinch. Pain is beauty, right? Besides, I'll probably never get a chance like this again, so it's only right that I spend it dancing the night away no matter how bad my dancing is,"
"I wouldn't say your dancing is bad,"
"It's horrendous!" Her hair fell from is up-do as she tossed her head back in laughter.
We come around to the edge of the dance floor and I lead her off, directing her to the less crowded balcony. "Sorry, but I'm really not a dancer," I explain, "so if you'd rather find someone else, I understand."
Go, go, go find another.
"I could use a break," she shrugs, following me. She leans against the edge, looking out to the starry sky. Those aren't real stars. They're only lights strung up and made to look like stars. Every here is fake.
"It's beautiful out here too,"
"Of course," I agree, "nothing less for the Hiwatari's guests,"
She hums happily and I wonder how long I must stand here pretending to make conversation before leaving is considered rude. I haven't been paying much attention to anything she's been saying, but she doesn't seem to need me to respond for her to continue talking. I can't imagine we're having a riveting discussion.
"I'm sorry if I'm boring you,"
"No, I'm fine. Really,"
She smiles. "You're a liar. Almost the best liar I've seen all night,"
I can feel my Hiwatari Heir Manners drop. "Excuse me?"
"You've hated every second in my presence but you've been too nice to say anything. I don't know why, but I appreciate it."
Minutes ago, I doubted whether she could even spell cat. Now, I doubt whether I've seen the real her all night. Her secret smile tells me I've been duped. Bits of our conversations start to filter through.
"I'm really not that nice,"
"If I had shattered your shin you wouldn't have said it. You would have stumbled off to the side, saying it's your fault for not wearing shin pads. I guess being Kai Hiwatari has given you some sense of expected behavior, but you hate it as much as you hated accepting my hand in the first place."
I stare at this no-named girl. Her plain brown hair has completely fallen from its pins, bangs brushing her forehead in the evening breeze. The pink strapless dress hugs her slight frame, but its jagged edges and uneven seams lead me to believe it's homemade. She said she practiced the dances in her room all week. I had joked that she was from the country but maybe I wasn't too far off. Either way, she's unlike anyone I've met here before.
"Who are you?"
She looks at me, eyes the color of warm afternoon tea. "Don't worry, you'll never see me again," she says. "Thanks for the dance. It really made this the best night of my life."
She turns and heads back into the crowd, disappearing. I try to keep up, reaching out to grab her dress or her arm or anything to keep her from getting away, but I can't reach. People pop up to stop me, to talk to me.
Yes, no, of course, I'll mention it to my grandfather. Please, excuse me.
Get out of the way!
By the time I'm free, the girl is long gone. The color of her dress, so easy to pick out from the others, is nowhere to be seen. The band is no longer playing, the silence rings out.
The dance has ended.
I needed a break from my bigger WIPs. Sometimes just finishing something is encouraging enough. Thanks for taking the time to read, and if you have any comments, I'm happy to hear!