Daughter of Fire | I ✓ [ SAMPLE ]

chapter 3

"...The birthday girl, huh?" he grunted, tapping the clipboard with a pencil. "Happy twenty-first," he smiled in a sly, knowing way.

So, Francesca had lied about my age...not that it surprised me.

"That's me," I said unenthusiastically.

The bouncer unhooked the rope from the stand and gestured for us to be his guest. We scuttled through the entrance, before beholding the interior. I had snuck into a club before, but it now seemed mellow compared to that by which we were now surrounded. The ultraviolet lights shone through the hazy darkness from the ceiling and walls, bathing the atmosphere in neon purple. Everyone was wearing white, as was customary here, which made them and the whole room glow. It was all very overwhelming and immediately made me want to go back outside.

"She's here!" someone shouted before I could make my escape and grabbed me by the arm to pull me to one of the standing platforms in the middle of the room, before catapulting me upwards. I stumbled to halt before standing there awkwardly and giving a small wave, causing an eruption of cheers. I supposed that was what came with popularity. My gaze narrowed as I scanned the faces; I could not care less about who was who so long as I vaguely recognised them from my grade, but my eyes searched for one person in particular.

"Happy birthday, Savannah!" the distinct voice of Francesca Minetti trilled, and I turned to find her standing on the platform next to me, before she hooked an arm around my neck. "This is all for you, babes, now that you're officially an adult. Though let's not kid ourselves —little Savannah has been a woman for a while now."

"Slut shaming is a bit of a low blow," I growled in annoyance while trying to pry her long, manicured matte black nails away from my throat.

"Right. Everybody enjoy yourselves," she then went on addressing the crowd, "The drinks on offer are already paid for, so go crazy!"

She suddenly raised her glass of God-knows-what and it splashed a little over my chest. I growled but she did not take any notice. She was then about to turn and climb down to the floor, when she dug her fingers into my shoulder and brought her lips to my ear. "...Enjoy this party, but never forget where you came from. You know very well why you're so popular —you wouldn't be here without Aaron Carter. Keep him close. We both know that this is a much more preferable rung on the social ladder," she whispered, before adding a soft chuckle. I frowned as she let me go and flittered her fingers in my face. "Ta ta, then!"

I shivered and watched her model-walk away. I wanted to believe that Francesca's words did not faze me. Unfortunately they rung with unsaid truth. She was not wrong about Aaron being my ticket to a greater social circle —but I had never once imposed myself on Francesca and her minions. I had never tried to rival her. I did not ever want to be like her, yet she saw me as nothing but a threat to her title. Even today, when it was supposedly about me, she had not resisted to tear me down further than I already felt. That was how she controlled people, I realised. She never hesitated to upstage; to remind those elevated in status by association that they would be nothing without the school's so called 'noble born'. I wrote it off as teenage and capitalistic nonsense, though it was difficult to ignore how awkward it felt being around Aaron's friends. Like I was a corner puzzle piece from a finger painting that defiled their Mona Lisa.

I then blinked dejectedly, thrown off by Francesca's best attempt at the equivalent of a happy birthday wish, before turning around to see Aaron standing by my platform. My irritation melted away. None of what Francesca had told me mattered now that I was with him. He loved me just as I was —just as I had been. I smiled and crouched down as he held his arms out. He wrapped them around my waist before gently lifting me up and putting me down on the floor. Just him and me —that was what mattered.