Princess to the Rescue

1 || wildest dreams

ONE || WILDEST DREAMS

When I was young, my parents thought that I was too short. Shorter than most, at least.

As a result, they gave me something to drink every night before I went to bed, to make me taller.

I am not sure if it worked or not, because a few weeks later I shot up about ten inches, and got my period. So my sudden increase in height could have also been due to puberty.

My parents were overjoyed, and they stopped feeding me the soup-like thing. I had reached 1.6 metres from barely 1.4 metres in just a couple of months. Suddenly from being towered over, I was the one towering over others.

Why had my parents wanted me to grow taller?

Sure, every parent did not want their kid to stay short forever, but to the extent where they fed their kid some antidote? That toed the line.

As for me, my parents' intentions had been clear. They wanted me to become a professional dancer and be on Broadway.

Well, not really what they wanted. More like it was me, but they had taken the matter into their hands.

I was lucky. Most billionaires wanted their children to take over their very successful businesses when they were gone, whether their offspring liked it or not, because many of them only had one child.

Fortunately for me, my older brother had taken care of that matter the moment he had been born. Hence, my parents had never really paid much attention to the things I did, but when I had told them my decision to be on Broadway, they had taken it seriously. Too seriously.

They sent me for dance classes every day, for about four hours in the morning, and another four at night. They got different world known actresses and singers to give me masterclasses as well, for about 2 hours a day. During the summer when I was just about to turn fifteen, they had sent me for dance camps all around Los Angeles.

They were doing this because they wanted nothing but the best for me, so I tried not to complain to much.

Complaining never really helped in my case, anyway.

I kept telling myself that as I tried to drag my aching body out of bed, groaning as the morning rays of sunshine blinded me. My hand fumbled around wildly for my alarm clock, which had not stopped ringing since five minutes ago.

When my fingers finally found the button, I pressed it down, and silence instantly filled the bedroom.

What day was it? Monday? Friday?

I threw my blanket over my head again, willing myself to go back to sleep even though I knew very well that I could not.

Barely a couple of minutes after I had stopped my alarm clock from ringing, the sound of metal pan against metal pan entered the room. I covered my ears under my blanket with my pillow but to no avail.

My ears rang and I groaned again. "Shut up, you moron."

The clanging stopped. "Aww, little Didi is swearing!" Came the voice of my ever annoying but endearing brother, Ian.

Before I could say or do anything else, Ian ripped off the blankets. I felt a chill crawl up my legs and I shivered slightly. Not every girl slept in long pants.

"What do you want from me," I muttered and squinted my eyes as I climbed out of bed wearily.

"I'm sending you your dance today, Di! Isn't it wonderful?" Ian announced.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. My brother seemed to want to kill me each time I sat in his car, either by giving me a heart attack or crashing the car.

"Nothing more than sixty." I warned.

Sixty because Ian seemed to add another twenty kilometres to it. Intentionally? Probably. So instead of sixty per hour, Ian would drive at eighty, which was fine with me as long as it did not reach a hundred.

Ian rolled his eyes. "Come on, you've got to live a little."

"I don't think so." I said. "Now get out, I need to change."

Ian smirked and turned.

I slammed the door after him and landed back onto my bed heavily. After a few more minutes, I got up and went over to my dance wardrobe. My parents had insisted for me to get a separate wardrobe for my dance attires.

I picked out a high-neck, jet black racerback bra top and a pair of seamless dance shorts. I tied my hair into a simple bun and put on a little mascara before I shrugged on my jacket and grabbed my dance bag.

My mother greeted me cheerfully. "Your dad has already left for work," she added, then went back to reading the newspapers.

Ian was tapping his foot impatiently at the door, ready to leave. When he spotted me making my way towards him, he sighed dramatically. "Sleeping Beauty finally awakes after a hundred years."

"No thanks to you," I retorted cheekily, sweeping past him and moving towards the car.

"So, Ian," I started, turning to face him after he started driving down the road. "You know whose birthday is coming up soon, don't you?"

Ian grinned. "I believe it is my beloved sister's birthday on the twenty-third of May."

"And what may you have planned for her?" I leaned forward eagerly. Ian gave me the best birthday presents. My parents usually threw a big birthday party for me, even though almost two-thirds of the guests there were strangers to me. Most of them only attended my birthday party for an opportunity to make business deals with my father, and soon with Ian as well.

Last year on my seventeenth birthday, Ian had gotten me two huge Craftholic soft toys and a box of Godiva chocolates which I had finished all by myself in less than an hour. In the afternoon, he had brought me to the best Italian restaurant in our area. It had been one of the best birthdays ever. But then again, every birthday since my fifth had been the best ones.

Ian pretended to look thoughtful. "Hmm.... I'm thinking of something big, but I'm not too sure yet. Don't tell her, okay?"

I giggled. Ian would always drop vague and very general hints a few days before my birthday, which made it almost impossible for me to guess what he was planning. Knowing Ian, a soon-to-be businessman, he had had everything planned out already.

"I won't tell her anything." I nodded my head vigorously.

"Good," Ian smiled. "Love you, Didi."

The corners of my mouth curved up even more. That was what I loved about Ian. He never seemed to care if I hated him or not, because he loved me no matter what.

"Love you too, Ian."

HeLlO! Thank you to whoever is reading this, because it means alot to me. If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and perhaps a vote?? thank you!!! love you lots xx

aelin<3