"Yes, but it's your twenty first birthday. The age where you're given the key to life"
After a cathartic event takes place on the night of her twenty first birthday, Beverley makes an impulsive decision and has to adjust to the path she took whilst...
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Hours ago...
"Claire really went all out planning the gala."
The whole event from the venue, the decorations and the catering were meticulously planned and organised. Claire had rented a whole plaza for the evening with a ballroom that was big enough to accommodate hundreds of guests - not to forget how tight the security was. No one was allowed in without an invitation.
The ballroom was aesthetically organised and decorated; with luxurious furniture and a fairy lights hanging around everywhere, which created a dim dinner-like setting and the venue just screamed extravagant. There was a jazz band playing music to keep the guests entertained with waiters and waitresses moving around the room attending to them.
The gala had proceeded well, but it was a bit dull - at least for me. All that had happened for the past hour or so was speeches about the founding of the company, its history, success and future.
And I was zoning in and out through the whole thing.
Finally, when the speeches did come to an end, everyone went on with their business. Some were deeply engaged in banter and conversation; some were helping themselves to some food and drinks while Maren and I were watching from the Mezzanine floor.
"So this is what a fancy party looks like?" I commented.
"Mhm. A lot of rich people come to these gigs for business and to fulfil whatever obligation they have for their status and reputation - oh! Thank you." Maren took a glass of champagne offered to her by the waiter.
"You better not be planning to get drunk, Mare." I warned her.
"I'll be fine." She waved her hand contemptuously.
"Would you like some wine, ma'am?" the waiter asked.
"I'm good. Thanks." I politely declined
With a nod, the waiter left us. "So how's it like?" she asked.
"It's okay, I guess. It's my first time coming to events like these, so I can't really say much." I looked at her. "Do you always come to events like these?"
"Not as often as I did growing up," she answered, drinking from her glass. "Back then it was mandatory and expected me to be on my best behaviour since the old man was so obsessed with his image and reputation."
I hummed in response and didn't say a word.
"But that's not what I was asking." She said. "I was asking how it feels to be twenty one."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't really say. I just turned but I don't feel any different. Besides, age is just a number adding to my lifespan. It doesn't really matter to me."
