𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬┊✓

t w e n t y t w o | e c c e d e n t e s i a s t

I pulled on my undergarments — only a white lace bikini — since the dress I pulled out had a thick padding that was like a bra already, or something like that? It was a white dress, there was a slit from my hip to bottom of the dress, exposing my left leg and the back was as good as backless, stopping at my waist with a thin strap making an 'x.' And since we wear shoes in the house — cause that's totally normal?— I slipped on rose gold heels so the gown wouldn't graze the ground.

I went for a natural look, only using mineral powder, a layer of highlighter on my face and painting my lips with a matte nude lipstick. As for my hair, I dried it with my towel and brushed out the knots, splitting it in the middle.

Walking into the kitchen, it was empty, and clean, my father leaving no trace whatsoever of what we had spent the previous hours doing. And he wasn't there, probably upstairs showering. The food was all packed nicely in foil pans, glass pans, on the counter top that separated the kitchen and living room.

I put on my indie alternative playlist, plugging my phone into the charger. It was 5:37 now and I've settled on the fact that there was no way in hell I was finishing before our guests. Oh well! I put on a pot of water to boil, emptying the shells from the box and as soon as the water was boiling, I threw in the shells and started working on the Ragu sauce and getting out the ground beef and spinach I had already prepared prior along with the shredded cheeses I was going to use.

I set that aside and started working on the cake. I got out a large baking pan along with the cake mix and the three milks. I put the second oven to preheat — since we had a double wall oven — and began to beat the eggs and sugar, baking powder, milk, and powder extract. Once I was done, I had to set that aside and rush to the stove to take it off and strain the shells. And god help me, but I don't know whose dumbass idea it was to invent glass stovetops because it is by far the most damn annoying thing I have ever used!

I leave the shells to drain and go back to the cake, pouring the batter in a glass pan and going to make the batter once again because I was making two trays. As I was beating the eggs, my father came down dressed in a crisp charcoal suit, maroon dress shirt, and sleek black tie. And of course his head was bent low, his eyes glued to his phone.

"Goddamnit," I practically scream in frustration once I realized I threw the whisk in the sink. My patience was running low and Hunter and whoever my dad invited would arrive soon. I was practically rushing now, and cursing out every chance I got because if you didn't know, it is almost impossible to keep a white dress clean while cooking. I look over at my dad — who I had momentarily forgotten was even here — and his eyes were already on me, he was stifling his laughs.

"Yes," I growl out and huff.

"No, no, please keep going, don't stop on my account," he actually laughed this time. My life is a joke.

"And Adri?"

"Hm?" I stopped what I was doing and looked over at him.

"You look beautiful, just like your mother. I love you Adri, and I'm absolutely grateful and blessed to have you as my daughter," he smiled just as soft as he spoke and I walk over to him, throwing my hands around him.

"I love you too dad, and I truly could not have asked for a better father."

The bell rang and I groan in my father's chest.

"You distracted me. Now I'm really not going to finish," I whine.

"That sounds like your problem, I'm going to get the door," he laughed and pulled away. I groan and seriously ask myself why? Why'd I wake up so late? Why'd I choose to cook so much?