Ace of Minds

01: The Party

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This chapter was edited by Random_Afterthoughts, RT_Cipher, and angelhair16! Check them out they're great!

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On one Sunday, the usually peaceful and quiet house on Pine Street, Beverly Hills was full of people. People in flashy cars arrived with big boxes wrapped in all sorts of fancy giftwraps. They all wore fancy dresses and suits, looking as if they were aiming for Best Dress of 2014. In the large front yard, people chatted, danced, and exchanged business cards. In their hands they held small glasses of colorful liquids. They drank it every once in awhile as they talked to other guests.

At the grand mahogany front door stood a brunette girl, looking like a princess with a golden crown atop her head. A long, sparkly light pink dress hugged her tiny figure. The tulle bottom hung just above her knees. With two and a half inch stilettos, she succeeded in masking her lack in height. She went by the name Irene Clarington. Yes, she was the one and only daughter of the Hollywood star, Amanda Clarington.

It was her birthday, yet she was the least happy person in the party. Her mom had made her welcome every guest. Not only that, she didn't know most of the guests.

"Happy birthday," the guests would say to her.

"Thank you," she'd reply with the same smile she had given for hours. Her cheeks ached from all the fake smiling.

She assumed her mom, Ms. Clarington—as she insisted on being called—was inside the house, making sure everything was perfect as she had been doing for the past two hours.

Her mom kept on checking the band in the living room—in case they started playing emo songs—and making sure the servants were serving the right beverages. That made Irene wondered what had gotten into her. Her mom wasn't usually that restless.

It amazed Irene how her perfectly styled brunette hair remained untouched. It was like even the wind wouldn't dare to do so. Once, Irene had watched her mom in an interview and the woman said that her hair was her crown, her pride. If anyone dared to mess it up, she'd throw a fit nobody would want to see.

Irene doubted that. Her mom was a very petite woman. Sometimes she wondered how her mom was able to pull all those stunts in her movies.

Irene heaved a tired sigh. No more guests, she thought, noticing no more cars were stopping outside her house. Just as she was telling the guards to close the gates, however, she noticed a man walking up to her house. He came with no other transportation aside from his legs. Even his suit looked exceptionally different. It looked rather wrinkled and old, the checkered dark green and brown pattern outdated. His black hair was all over the place. He was the kind of man her mom told her to stay away from.

Was he from the media? Paparazzi? Those people were blacklisted.

The guards stopped him for a procedural body and invitation check. He showed them the invitation hastily.

Irene nodded at the guards. "Just close the gate and enjoy the party." So I can enjoy it too instead of greeting guests. She gave the guards a dismissive wave to go inside.

Grateful of what she did, they came running in.

The man walked toward her and smiled. Minding her manners, Irene returned the gesture.