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Isabelle pats her cheek. Thank the heavens for the waterproof foundation. She reclines on a steel bench on the balcony, enjoying some solitude. The beauty of the city lights seems to taunt her. This moment of quiet won't last, but it's enough. From the pointless chatter in the ballroom to overly lavish gifts that don't mean anything. Her mother didn't raise her to be so gullible. What a sad life those people lease, finding joy in the pain of the less fortunate. It's difficult enough to even attend, but to be questioned about her brother? These people do not respect her at all, just as her mother said. A tear falls down her cheek as she grits her teeth.
This gathering is a mistake.
She wishes her mother didn't invite such people. Isabelle refuses to take it, beady pairs of eyes that follow her every move. One wrong step and she'd be thrown off the stage she climbed on. Inevitably, she will get scolded at home for her behavior. But when have they not criticized her? A dry laugh escapes her lips.
To think that the so-called star of the night would sit alone and cry to herself.
On the bright side, the main events are over. Isabelle looks down on her attire, tracing the beadworks. What a sad position to be in. The door to the balcony slides open, revealing a young man in a suit. He has pale blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. Not another headache. Did he come to annoy her? He wore proper attire this time, at least. She'll faint from all this stress.
"Are you alright?" He asked, putting his hand atop hers. She hopes her makeup isn't ruined. The last thing she needed was to have her mascara run. If she could be honest, she'd say no. But she isn't sure who else could be listening now.
"If I'm able to find the man of my dreams, I will." Isabelle said, mostly to herself. Would he walk away or brag about himself, like always? He plucks a rose from the side. Tristan places the stem in between his teeth and strikes a pose. What could he be up to, now?
"Love, I'm right here!" He exaggerates as if he's in a stage play. Isabelle snorts and covers her mouth, smiling. She had the image of a tall, dark, and handsome man. In her eyes, Tristan didn't fit that at all. Her parents would pick who she'd end up with, and saying no would be being a bad daughter. It's completely preposterous.
He takes off his blazer and tosses it onto the chair. He loosens his tie and adjusts his collar. Upon closer inspection, she notices the velvet design on his corset vest. She can't put her finger on it, but his presence calms her. With him wearing an all-black suit, she thought of his drunken self, trying to hit on her. Tristan shrugs, a goofy grin on his face. Oh, how she'd love to take a picture and use it as blackmail.
"Thanks, Tannie."
Isabelle rests her head on his shoulder. If only the media left, she can ditch the event altogether. She stole a glance at him. Tristan is so fixated on the view. My goodness, is he deep in thought? She pinches her face and feels nothing. That can't be good.
"Nothing my beautiful face can't fix." Tristan pats her head. Isabelle laughs. Did he not learn anything from last time? While that did give her a reason to see Stephen again, Isabelle found it tiring to look after him when drunk. The thought of cleaning up what he ate, again, makes her cringe.
She welcomes the soft breeze, tickling her neck. Tristan gets up to stand, but she immediately wraps her arm around his waist. Not yet. She can't face that sea of fake smiles and sour compliments.
"Isabelle?" Tristan said. He taps her arm gently. Isabelle shakes her head.
"No. Stay with me." She pleads. There's movement in the fabric. Isabelle prays it's the vibration of a gadget and not what she thinks it is. He turns around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tristan smirks and leaned in, their faces now a few inches apart.
"I didn't mean it like that!" Isabelle leans back. Who exactly does he take her for?
"My, my you've gotten bold. I like it." Tristan grins, a hand on her chin. She feels her blood pressure rise.
"Tristan!" Isabelle exclaims, her cheeks hot. He laughs, throwing his head back. He's always been like that! Forget it.
"Music to my ears." Tristan sings. Isabelle rolls her eyes and looks away. She dusts imaginary dust off her gown and folds her arms.
Aside from the distant sound of engines on the road and the clicks of cameras, it's silent. She rests her chin on her palm and observes the night sky once more. He lights a cigarette and offers her one. Isabelle makes a face.
"I never imagined we'd be friends, like this," Tristan said. He put out the cigarette and pops a mint candy in his mouth. Neither did she.
"This is better than you passed out at the bar." Isabelle pinches the bridge of her nose. As annoying and irresponsible as he is, he's always been there. He knew when to say something and to just hold her, along with scaring off other boys. Could he be jealous or overprotective? He treats her no differently than his little sister, minus the playful and completely insincere flirting.
"I don't remember that happening." Tristan raises an eyebrow. Finally, something to tease him with.
"Stephen didn't tell you?" Isabelle grins. She considers it payback for all the trouble he had caused. But she knows him well enough to expect more trouble anytime soon. A couple of years back, she had joined in on his plans and gotten suspended from school for a week. Her parents were furious, but her brother seemed proud of them. If only she could relive those days just once more.
"He did mention giving his number to the beautiful woman who helped." Tristan winks, a wolfish grin on his features. Stephen found her pretty? She bats her eyelashes and smiles. Of course, he did! She can imagine it already, a beach wedding with that gentleman.
She looks at him, egging him to go on about that man.
"Stephen does have a rather nice ass, for a guy. Once when we went swimming I--" Tristan starts. Isabelle shoves him harder than intended. Those two things weren't connected at all! Did he think she'd jump his bones? She huffs as Tristan laughs wholeheartedly, hitting the floor with one hand. He stops laughing for a moment. He points at her and laughs again, sprouting tears of joy.
"Shut up! You sound like a seal." She snaps. If she wasn't fond of his company, she would have left him in the dust ages ago. He ought to be grateful. He wheezes, clutching his stomach. She taps her foot impatiently. He quiets down and apologizes, wiping a tear. He has a stupid smile on his face, like a puppy seeing its owner after a long day.
"I've been meaning to call him, but yesterday didn't seem like a good time." She said. It was rainy. Plus, she was preoccupied with Xingchen's betta fish and having a movie night with Mei. One of her dear friends is now engaged! They stayed up all night eating ice cream and watching movies for inspiration on the theme.
"You were right. We had a... lot of paperwork to do." He said.
"Paperwork?" She said. Doing office work is not her forte. She accompanied her mother once to try and work as an intern, but not even a few hours in and she dozed off in the conference room. How do they deal with that, every single day? She'd go insane.
"The pain in the neck kind. I'd rather not talk about it." He said.
"You aren't going to ask?" Isabelle feels her heart drumming in her chest. How could she explain such an event to him? It can't be that easy to just blurt out how she found a man who got shot. She hasn't told her mother at all. He raises his eyebrows, asking a silent question.
"By my maternal tradition, I turned of legal age today." Isabelle said matter-of-factly. To her parents, at least. They listened to her plea to delay her debut, hoping her brother would attend. He's still missing.
For their family, the legal age wouldn't match the American one of eighteen. Grandmother insisted on a debut when their only daughter turns twenty-four, not just to celebrate but as a way to indirectly show off their wealth. If it were up to Isabelle, she would've chosen to spend a day donating to charities instead.
Perhaps the stars ignored her wish, granting another for her own good. One she didn't even think of asking. She looks at her blonde friend. He wouldn't know anything about it. Is staying silent when asked a question lying? No, not quite.
"Are you tempting me?" Tristan whispers. Isabelle leans in. Playful flirting again? Goodness. The smell of musk and tobacco wasn't as bad as expected, but on him, it is strange. Tristan has a sweet-looking face with a deep voice that didn't match at all. Upon their first meeting years ago, she expected a squeaky voice. But no, he proved her wrong.
"You'd need a cold shower if I tried." She said.
"Only if you'd join me, love." Tristan cups her face with one hand. Isabelle places her hands behind his neck, their foreheads barely touching. She grazes her finger on his neck and presses her body against his.
"Are you sure about that, Pierce?"
Tristan closes his eyes. Not even in his wildest dreams would she kiss him. It doesn't feel right. Isabelle stood up. He has a look of confusion. She let out her laughter. Tristan's eyes widen, an expression of disbelief on his face.
"You played me!" He cries. She covers her mouth, doing her best to hold back her laughter.
Isabelle stuck her tongue out. He stood and took a step forward. Bold of him to assume he strikes her fancy. Ha! As if. She giggles and runs off, kicking her heels off in the process. He chases after her. She ran through the corridor, barefoot as he is in hot pursuit.
She feels the weight of her gown settle in. As if a petticoat wasn't enough, embroidered beadworks covered a majority of the fabric. She felt blisters on her feet already. It was tempting to toss the petticoat away, but it'd be difficult to take off. Not to mention how her mother would lecture her.
"You're in for it, Isabelle!" Tristan bellows, his voice traveling throughout the corridor.
Isabelle takes a left and hides behind a curtain. She places her hands on her hip and had a moment of triumph. The color matched her gown perfectly. A few moments later, she hears footsteps. She chews her lip. Why did she get the feeling she'd be in danger?
A hand wraps around her waist. She tries to run, but it was too late. Tristan pulls her towards him and ends up toppling him. The two look at each other and broke out into laughter. Being this close, she can appreciate the sparkle in his pale blue eyes.
"Your gown would be much better if it was off." He said.
"I agree. It's rather heavy." Isabelle replies. He has a funny look on his face which she didn't understand. Did she say something wrong?
"Why wear it then?"
"I wanted to wear a suit, Tannie. But then I saw this gown."
She carefully moves her petticoat out of the way and helped him up. They walked back to the ballroom, arms linked together. She saw her mother approach. Isabelle didn't need to see her face to tell how angry she was.
"Yes, mother?"
"Where have you been?" Her mother asks, holding a glass of champagne. Isabelle squeezes his arm and he smiles. A scene between her and her mother would be the last thing either of them needed, especially with media so close. Their relatives wouldn't shut up about it if drama happens.
"I was with Tristan, mother." She smiled. Hopefully she wouldn't explode as she usually does. From passive-aggressive retorts to full-on aggression. Her father wouldn't let her hear the end of it.
"Tristan Pierce. It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Cross." He flashes a smile and her mother melted. She bats her eyelashes and fans her face. Isabelle can't believe her eyes.
"Delightful. You two enjoy yourselves, I have some things to attend to." Her mother gave Isabelle a look. She smiles sweetly and walked past them. Did she successfully avoid a harsh scolding? She makes a mental note to have Tristan around often.
A performer in white takes center stage, followed by a colored stage light. She begins to sing a calm ballad, accompanied by a melody. Pairs took to the dance floor as the lights dim, transitioning to a soft pink.
"May I have this dance?" Tristan bows. Isabelle humors him with an exaggerated curtsy. She places her hand in his.
"Of course."
The first dance is rather slow and intimate. The way he looks into her eyes makes her self-conscious. Why is she feeling this way? It's just Tristan. Isabelle closes her eyes, not knowing how to react. She bites her lip, unsure of the feeling in her stomach. Was it doubt or nerves?
"I... thanks. For, you know, helping me." He stutters. She knew he meant much more than that but she appreciates it nonetheless. Even he has his moments. If only he could act like this all the time, but he wouldn't be Tristan if he did.
"I understand my beauty is rather distracting, Tannie." She bumps his shoulder. Tristan chuckles and spins her around gently. If only this night wouldn't end.
"Alright, keep telling yourself that." He laughs. Isabelle huffs and stomps on his foot on purpose. He buckles, biting his lip. She flips her hair. Try that again, idiot.
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