Celeb Date

Chapter 22- Charity Ball

 "Will this work?" I ask, stepping out into the hall. Luke asked me to go with him to a charity ball that his parents were hosting. It sounded great except for two things. It was formal attire, and I would have to try and explain myself to Luke's parents.

"It looks beautiful," Luke says. "But I bought you something when I went to the mall yesterday. I mean, if you don't like it that's okay..."

"I'm willing to try it on," I say looking down at my drab dress I tend to wear to every formal social event I go to.

He smiles, walking into my room. He walks to my closet, reaches behind my clothes and pulls out a long dress bag.

"Try it on, then come into the hall so I can see it," He says, handing me the dress.

I pull the dress out of the bag and gasp, wondering why on earth I haven't let Luke take over my wardrobe completely. The bottom is made of a flowy blue fabric, and it looks relatively comfortable. The bodice is an ivory color, and is splattered with deep blue jewels. It's a beautiful gown, and I hurriedly slip it on, excited to see how it looks. I look in the mirror, holding back a gasp. I have I never looked this good. I brush on some more makeup, and put my hair up in an up do, careful to not flatten my still warm curls.

I reach for a diamond necklace Luke also got me for the event, and smile at my reflection, feeling like I almost belong on the red carpet at the moment.

"You are slow," Luke complains through the door.

I slip on a pair of heels, then walk to my door, opening it slowly. Luke steps back, giving me room to walk into the hall. I hear his breath catch, and I look up, worried that I've done something wrong.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, looking in the mirror in the hall.

"No," Luke says, his cheeks pink. "You look amazing, Mel."

"Thank you," I say. "I have you to thank."

"Should we go?" Luke asks, offering me his arm.

"Where are your parents?" I yell, trying to be heard over the loud pop music playing in the dining hall. "And what happened to white collar and orchestral music going hand in hand?"

Luke laughs, squeezing my hand, pointing to a table in the center of the room. My breath catches when I notice a woman who looks to be in her late forties, and a man who looks to be around the same age,-point to Luke and I- talking in each other's ear. "That's them," Luke says, noticing my gaze.

We approach the table, and they both stand. I reach my hand out, but neither of them accepts it, and I return my hand to my side stoically. Luke clears his throat, resting his arm around my throat.

"Mom, Dad, this is Melissa," Luke says, nodding in my direction. "She's my guest."

Luke's parents seem to soften, and I sigh, relieved. Luke rubs his thumb across my back, and something about it helps calm my nerves, and I relax into him, waiting for his parents to introduce themselves.

"I'm Dorthea," His mother says, then pointing to her husband adds, "And this is Robert."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," I say politely. Dorthea smiles, and I feel my pulse finally slow. Maybe tonight will go pretty well after all.

"Why are two young people like you standing and talking to two old people like us?" Robert asks, setting his glass of champagne down. "You two should be out on the dance floor."

I sneak a glance at the hoard of people dancing on the dance floor. They look to be enjoying themselves, but I'm not much of a dancers. I took ballet when I was little, and naturally anything involving a lot of crazy hip movements wasn't exactly my forte.

Luke pulls my hand, and guides me out in the throb of people before I can protest. "Just act like you're having fun," Luke says, earning a smile from me. He wraps my arms around his neck, and instead of dancing like crazy to keep up with the beat, we dance to our own tune. A slow dance, in the middle of a flash mob of hip-movers. We probably stick out, but that's okay.

"Thanks for being my date tonight," Luke says, smiling.

"When am I not?" I tease, glancing back at Luke's parents. They are both quietly watching us, and even from here, I notice Luke's mom wiping a tear from her cheek. I flush, surprised to have gotten such a reaction from her.

All of a sudden the music stops, earning some groans from the people dancing about. Luke and I step apart, and look expectantly to the stage as a short, bulky man comes out to begin the charity event.

He has some assistants wheel out some carts filled with oil paintings by some famous modern artists, and I feel embarrassed for not recognizing any of the names he rambles off.

"The first piece will begin at ten thousand," The man says. I gasp, surprised to see that the painting could be worth so much. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty. Sold to the woman bidding fifty thousand dollars. My head swims, just trying to imagine having that much money, let alone being willing to pay that much for a small oil painting that I could get a cheap replica of for ten bucks.

The next piece goes for thirty thousand.

The third piece goes for forty thousand.

And the last piece of the night goes for one hundred thousand dollars, earning a round of applause from all of the spectators milling around.

"Who pays that much for a painting?" I ask, glancing around at all of the guests, all of whom look like their attire costs more than my house.

"Crazy people," Luke admits. "I've had to come to these since I was little, and I hate them every year. They may be for a good cause, but that appeal to eight year old me."

"Understandable," I say.

"And the art, well, I'd say it's mediocre at best," He says critically, and I think of the drawing of me hanging up in my room. He could make a lot of money selling his drawings if he wanted to.

All of a sudden, I hear a cheer, and look towards the main entrance, cringing.

"Look who showed up," Luke mumbles under his breath.

There, in all their glory is StarLife.