In the heart of an opulent eight-star hotel, a figure stood before a full-length mirror, his every movement exuding quiet confidence. He struck a series of poses, each more deliberate than the last, adjusting his perfectly tailored suit to ensure it complemented his impeccable physique. The reflection before him seemed almost too perfect, too polished—the kind of beauty that felt as if it had been sculpted by the finest hands. Anyone who saw him would be drawn in by an allure that was impossible to resist as if this man had stepped out of a dream.
This was Kael Valen. Fashion was in his blood, a passion he'd inherited from a family that had dominated the industry for generations. He wasn't just a man of style; he was a force, a vision, destined to leave an indelible mark. His father, Albert Valen, had been the former CEO of the prestigious Pearl Empire. Under Albert's leadership, the company had earned global respect, rivalling long-established fashion houses in a fiercely competitive market.
Kael had taken over the company a year after graduating. His father had made it clear that a title alone wouldn't guarantee success. At 25, Kael was young, ambitious, and determined—but also headstrong, reckless, and prone to clashing with authority. Even with his father's trust, Kael struggled to align with the traditional expectations placed on him. He was the kind of person who didn't back down, even when the world was telling him to conform.
With a smirk playing on his lips, Kael spoke to the mirror, his voice filled with playful arrogance. "Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the most handsome man of them all?"
"The most handsome man, of course, is me. I am the king of handsomeness," he replied, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction.
Kael's life had always been simple: "I want it, I got it." A mantra that had shaped his every decision.
Satisfied with his reflection, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table, dialling a number with a mischievous smile.
"Baby, are you done?" he asked, his voice rich with charm and anticipation.
Meanwhile, miles away, Serena had just returned home from the university. She flopped onto her bed, her body tired and her mind overwhelmed. Her apartment was small but cosy, shared with her best friend, Lila. Lila was fiercely independent and self-sufficient, qualities Serena deeply admired. Despite Lila's constant reassurance, Serena couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't doing enough to contribute. Gratitude mixed with guilt in her heart, making her feel like an outsider in her own life.
"I should be doing more," Serena thought, staring at the ceiling. She had always wished her relationship with Lila could be simpler, free from the unspoken financial worries that loomed over them. But no matter how hard Serena tried, something always seemed to stand in her way.
The soft hum of the world outside began to calm her nerves, but just as her breathing slowed, a sharp, shrill ringing sliced through the silence. She groaned, eyes snapping open. Fumbling through her bag, she saw the name flashing on her phone screen. Her stomach sank. She should've known this call was coming.
Her finger hovered over the screen for a moment before she answered, her voice sharp despite her best effort to remain calm. "Yes?"
"Is this how you greet your mama?" her mother's voice demanded, thick with both sweetness and reprimand. "Where are your manners? Have you forgotten who I am? The one who gave you life?"
Serena's pulse quickened. Every call with her mother felt like stepping onto a battlefield. "I didn't forget," she muttered, the words tasting bitter as they left her lips.
Her mother's tone grew sharper. "You still haven't forgiven me for what happened, have you? You're still angry about the divorce, but don't you think it's time we moved on? I deserve to be happy too, Serena. Is that such a crime?"
The words sliced through Serena like a knife. She couldn't listen anymore. With trembling hands, she ended the call and flung the phone onto her bed. Her heart pounded in her chest. How could her mother still think everything could be fixed by her own happiness, while the damage to their family lingered unspoken?
Her eyes closed for a moment, but memories of her childhood came rushing back. She could still hear the words that shattered her world at seventeen: "Your father and I are getting a divorce."
"This is not a joke, Mama. If you want to prank me, prank me with something else," Serena pleaded, staring into her mother's eyes. She desperately searched for any sign that it wasn't true, but the more she looked, the clearer it became: the woman before her wasn't the same person Serena had once admired. This was the woman who had made a choice that Serena would never fully understand.
She had never seen her parents fight or heard the arguments that led to their separation. It felt like her entire foundation had crumbled, leaving her alone in the rubble. Every night after that, she cried—until she stopped. Crying couldn't change what had happened or bring her family back together. And so, Serena learned to suppress the emotions that threatened to consume her.
She began to wear her anger like armour, hiding her pain behind an unsmiling face and a fierce resolve. She couldn't afford to be weak. Yet, despite her best efforts, the anger remained, like an undying ember that refused to go out.
"If you hadn't brought that man home, maybe I wouldn't hate you this much," Serena thought bitterly. Her mother's new life had been the breaking point, and no matter how much Serena tried to move forward, she couldn't erase the damage.
But there was one person who anchored her: Lila. Lila's love was uncomplicated, a steady presence that didn't come with guilt or expectations. Serena smiled through the haze of her thoughts. "Lila gets me," she thought. "She's all the family I need."
With a final, steadying breath, Serena sat up and glanced around her room. The silence now felt peaceful. She had a long way to go, but for now, it was enough to be here, in the present, with the people who truly cared for her. And that was all that mattered.