Alpha Asher | Completed ✔️

Chapter Eleven

So, ignoring the strange smirk on his face, I walked up to the reception desk. "Excuse me sir, I would like some help."

"Obviously," he says flatly, sitting up slightly. "This is a help centre."

I'm not sure how to react. His sardonic tone and unpleasant attitude paired with his smirk is infuriating. Getting irritated at a worker here - who honestly looks like an imposter - isn't going to get me the answers I have come for.

"I have received an invitation, even though I didn't apply," I tell him. His eyes follow my movements, I place the invitation down on the desk in front of him. It's still dazzling under the light.

"Congratulations," he says tiresomely.

I slide in the invitation closer to, trying to get him to understand the gravity of this situation. I doubt he wants to be here. This centre is only open for a few days before the party every year, which means this man with strange, cobalt coloured hair has another job and wants to anywhere other than here. But I need this.

"I want to know who invited me, and why," I say, planting my hands firmly on the desk, trying to insinuate how serious I am about this.

The man sighs irritably. "You went to previous parties."

"Yes, twice before."

"Then there's your answer," He says, sliding the invitation along his desk with his forefinger. "Someone obviously saw you at the first party, and invited you again. It's not uncommon for high authoritative figures to get an interest in someone to invite them back again year after year."

"You know what else isn't uncommon? Not being able to remember a thing about it," I growl, considering everyone else who couldn't recall the night before, even though they claim it's the most memorable night of your life.

The blue haired man sat forward on his feet, swiping the invitation up in his grasp. I watch him balance it between his fingers nervously, as he holds it up to the light, and begins slowly tearing it.

"Wait!"

He pauses, a slow, feline smile gracing his expression. "What did you say?"

"I said wait," I repeat hoarsely. My breath has been caught in my throat at the sight of what he is doing. If he tore the invitation fully in half, there's no way I would have a chance to get in the party again tonight.

"I've gathered from your own words that don't want to go, am I right?"

For some reason, the idea of not being able to go frightened me. The feeling is thick like oil in my veins, exasperating. I wish I could be furious at who wrote the note. I wish i could hate them for the gifts they have sent me, if it truly was them, like I expect. Instead, I'm left with this deep sense of longing...of curiosity.

"Turn it over," I insist, motioning to the letter. "See what's on the other side."

Blue haired man twisted the invitation over, eyes on mine speculatively before he dragged them down the back of the paper. He stared at it for a few moments, before murmuring, "interesting."

My heart skipped a beat. That was until he turned it over, and showed me the other side. Blank, nothing. The pretty writing and mysterious note was gone.

"Interesting imagination, you have," the man continues. "What should I be looking at, again?"

I snatch the invitation from his hand, checking almost every inch of it with a precise gaze. The back is smooth and untouched. There is no evidence of foul play. The note has disappeared, making me look crazy to anyone who had witnessed it. Only the blue haired man, who at this point, is standing.