My sticky lips formed around the skinny tip of my blunt, careful not to dampen the flavoured paper with my saliva. The light at the end glowed in an angry red, but was then replaced with grey ash. That ash had burned and allowed the sweet smoke to flow over my taste buds as I expanded my chest, inhaling. Bitter smoke escaped my lips, twirled into the night sky and danced alongside the twinkling stars.
The silver moon was bright enough and the rays bounced off the red velvet of my dress. It tied around my neck and the bodice dipped low, revealing more cleavage than I was comfortable with. It hugged my body tightly, giving me just enough fabric to breathe. The elegant up-do hid the fact that my hair needed a wash and a decent brushing. Some curls escaped the pins and cascaded down my neck. I was never able to tame it.
I had just arrived from the airport a few hours before. My father had sent Brandon, his assistant and Maggie, his stylist to pick me up. After two years apart, I pictured a warmer welcoming. Maggie tried her best to doll me up for my sister's engagement party.
The Carter name was a big deal in the small town of Silverstone. My grandfather was the founder of the Carter Fishery that put the town on the map. After he died, it was left to my father. He was a very smart man and attended some ivy league school where he met my mother. They got married, had Nadinne and a few years later they adopted me when I was about twelve.
For most of my life I felt so out of place. I was almost a teenager when they adopted me, so I wasn't accustomed to their lifestyle. I remembered my previous life inside the orphanage that housed more than thirty kids. We shared everything from clothes to washcloths. After adoption I had my own everything. I lived in a mansion with strangers.
Becoming a Carter wasn't that horrendous. My father went from Mr. Carter to Papa in mere weeks after my arrival. He had such a big heart and accepted me as his own. Turned out, the adoption wasn't my mother's idea. Gloria remained Gloria. She was the socialite amongst the wives of famous men in Silverstone. I believed my adoption was for the status. Nadinne and I got along as well as sisters do. She was almost a decade older than I, but we meshed well. She taught me the ins and outs of living in a community like this. She liked to do make overs and give advice about boys.
I took the last few puffs and threw the roach behind the tree I leaned on. I stared at the large white tent in front of me. The usual classical music poured out from every opening. From all the openings, I slid through the makeshift door of the kitchen. Waiters hurriedly moved about, taking champagne and food platters to the guests behind the white curtain, leading to the party.
Noticing a large crystal glass of scotch on one of the trays, I snatched it before the waiter could take it away. He seemed shocked at my doings but I ignored him and took a large gulp. The brown liquid burned my throat.
"That wasn't yours, Miss." The waiter said. He had the usual penguin suit on but it looked better on him than on the others. He had a certain charm to his smile. However, his eyes settled on my chest before they met my eyes.
"Papa only drinks scotch from his special collection." I said. "He will have champagne and nothing else. Give him the same as my mother."
"The long lost daughter." His smile widened and so did his brown eyes. They eyed me down. "The gods must be looking down on me for I am in the presence of a Carter."
"Cut the bullshit." I laughed a little harder than I intended to, drawing the attention of the other waiters. The one before me just smiled. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the golden tag on his chest. The swirls of each letter blurred. I blinked a few times but my vision remained the same. It didn't matter if I knew his name or not. "Just get the drink over to him. Make sure my father has two and my mother shouldn't have more than seven, but she has to have more than my father."
There was always a specific waiter that served the family. If I knew my sister, she wouldn't drink because she would be too worried about fitting in her dress. I never met her husband. As the thought came up, it dawned on me that I haven't arrived. When I got here, the party was in full swing. I took a smoke outside before I came in. I had to see Nadinne. I wasn't interested in my future brother-in-law because I wouldn't be sticking around long enough to actually get to know the guy. After the wedding and my maid of honour duties expired, I had to be on the next flight out.
"How about after this we go..." I cut the waiter short and grabbed a champagne flute from the tray of the passing waitress.
I gulped it down and not to my surprise, it went down better than the scotch. I didn't realise how stressed out I was about the whole situation. I just spent over ten hours hopping from flight to flight to get here. I haven't seen my family in two years and they haven't even come looking for me. It's not like I expected I huge welcoming celebration. It was my sister's day after all.
This feeling of grief hit me like a truck. I was in the midst of a bad trip and it felt like the whole world begun to crash around my feat. Tears flooded my eyes and they threatened to pour out. I hated this overwhelming sadness that occasionally washed over me. I felt trapped, surrounded by moving bodies.
"Hey, are you okay sweetie?" the waiter grabbed my shoulder and came closer. Heat spread all over my body and I broke out in sweat.
I knew exactly what was happening to me. In my mind I flipped though the advice pages of all my therapists and tried to remember which one actually helped. Before trying anything, I slipped from his clammy grasp and ran into the party.
Blinding white almost seared my eyes. White lights, white walls, white flowers and people dressed in white. The colour turned neon and flashed before me. All the guests turned to me and in a distance I could see my father. I had the urge to run into his arms and just curl up but then I saw her. Gloria held onto his arm.
I stepped forward and the noise grabbed my attention. I looked down to see broken glass in pools of bubbling champagne. Had I done that? It was my fault.
"What the hell are you doing?" A thick voice barked behind me, scaring the shit out of me. The man grabbed my arm with a painful grip, almost lifting me from the floor. "Security!" he barked again.
My tongue felt paralysed. My body went numb as I felt the force of this man's strength. His enraged green eyes threatened to burn the skin off my body. He seemed ten times my size. He was a snarling beast.
"Release her!" my father's voice echoed through the tent. The music stopped ages ago.
"She's a crasher!" the man snapped. His eyes never left mine.
"She's my daughter."
The man blinked his eyes in disbelief but the intensity remained. He looked me over, still breathing heavily and released the death grip around my arm. Just as his icy hands left, the warm embrace of my father came around me.
