Today is Mark's day. He's being awarded, and I couldn't be prouder of him. He's my older brother, the eldest of us all, and undeniably the most successful—perhaps it's the first-born qualities. My father dotes on him, making no secret of Mark being the favorite child. It's always been clear to anyone who's seen our family together. I come from a long line of doctors. My father, Daniel Bernard, is a renowned physician, respected by peers and adored by patients. My mother, my sisters, even my grandparents—all have carved out successful careers in the medical field. They are perpetually busy, absorbed in their demanding but rewarding professions. And then there's me. The youngest, the one who was expected to follow the family tradition and uphold our esteemed reputation. I was forced, almost as if it were a matter of family honor, to prepare for the medical admission test. The pressure was immense. Unlike my siblings, who seemed to breeze through their studies, I struggled. Memorizing endless biological terms and concepts was a nightmare, especially since biology was my weakest subject. Each page of my textbook seemed like a mountain I couldn't climb. My heart sank every time I opened it, dread pooling in my stomach.
When the day of the admission test came, I was a bundle of nerves. I tried my best, poured everything I had into it, but it wasn't enough. I didn't get into medical school, and in that moment, I became the ultimate criminal in my parents' eyes. The disappointment on their faces was like a knife to my heart. I still remember the aftermath vividly. The way my father couldn't even look at me, the silence that fell over the dinner table, heavy and suffocating. My mother's eyes, usually so full of warmth, were cold and distant. It was as if I had shattered the family's dream, tarnished our legacy. I had tried so hard, poured every ounce of my will into studying, but I still couldn't make it. It felt like I was drowning in an ocean of failure, unable to surface for air. I became the black sheep, the one who couldn't live up to the family's expectations. And no matter how much time passes, that sense of failure still haunts me, a shadow that follows me everywhere I go.
Lucy arrived to help me prepare for the event. I've always known she was good at makeup, but every time she works her magic on me, it feels like her skills have somehow surpassed the last time. When I look in the mirror, I barely recognize the person staring back. "You look like a fairy," Lucy says, her eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. Her compliments always make me blush and fill me with a surge of confidence. I smile at her reflection, feeling a rare moment of self-assuredness."Thank you, Lucy," I reply softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you." After finishing my transformation, I descend the stairs, feeling the fabric of my dress glide against my skin. My family is almost ready, except for Ary and Melissa, who are still fussing over the final touches of their outfits. As soon as they finish, we head to the car. As usual, Melissa and Ary cast their judging looks in my direction. It's a familiar scene, one that always makes my heart sink a little. Lucy, ever the protective friend, used to tell me they acted this way because they were jealous. She said it with such conviction, trying to lift my spirits, but I've always found it hard to believe. In the car, I catch Ary's reflection in the window, her eyes narrowing as she inspects my appearance. Melissa whispers something to her, and they both smirk, their expressions laced with disdain. It's a subtle but painful reminder of my place in the family hierarchy. I turn my gaze back to the passing scenery, trying to block out their silent criticism. Lucy's words echo in my mind, a small beacon of hope amidst the dark clouds of doubt. Maybe, just maybe, she's right. Maybe their judgment stems from their own insecurities. But for now, all I can do is take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and face the evening ahead with as much grace as I can muster. The car ride feels interminable, each second stretching out as I sit in silence, lost in my thoughts. I think about Mark and his big moment, and I silently vow not to let my own insecurities overshadow his day. Today is about him, after all, and I need to be there for my brother, no matter how out of place I feel.
As we pull up to the venue,, I step out of the car, ready to face whatever the night has in store. my parents start to go ahead with Mark and Gian and my sisters start to retouch their makeup in the backseat. i pick up the small bags that were some gifts prepared for the colleagues of Mark. after that we lock the car and start walking towards the venue hall. everything is so crowded outside and i wonder how much more crowded it will be in the inside. guess that's normal because this is a event where every renowned doctors and their families get invited to celebrate their successes. Melissa and ary walking faster ahead of me.
Even though we three were supposed to carry the bags, my sisters didn't help me. I was okay with that until, as I started to walk, I suddenly bumped into someone and fell. All the bags in my hands scattered across the pavement, their contents spilling out. Anger surged through me as I glared at the person responsible for this mess. The bright sun rays blinded me, making it hard to see his face, but I could make out his tall, muscular frame, his physique so perfectly structured and carved it looked like a living sculpture.
He offered his hand to help me up, but I refused, feeling too tense and frustrated to accept his help. I stood up, my face a bundle of irritation, and finally looked at him. I was ready to unleash a torrent of words, to scream at him for his carelessness, but the moment our eyes met, it was as if time stopped. Everything around us faded into insignificance. The world ceased to move, waiting for this man to command it back into motion. How could someone look so... I lost the words in my thoughts, struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence. His hazel eyes, flecked with green, were the most majestic thing I had ever seen, their depths drawing me in like a beautiful, unfathomable forest. Those eyes held a mysterious allure, a combination of warmth and intensity that was both captivating and disarming. His brows were perfectly aligned, framing those incredible eyes with an artist's precision, adding to his already striking features.
His lips, oh, his lips were the kind you'd dream about, the kind you'd die to kiss at least once in your life. They were full and inviting, carrying a promise of softness and warmth. His jawline was sharp and defined, embracing his other features and adding an edge of masculinity that was impossible to ignore. His hair was a rich shade of dark brown, perfectly styled yet looking effortlessly tousled, adding a touch of casual charm to his otherwise polished appearance. From his broad shoulders to his well-tailored suit, everything about him screamed perfection. He exuded a confidence and grace that was almost otherworldly, making it hard to believe he was real. I stood there, utterly mesmerized, my anger forgotten in the face of such overwhelming beauty. How could someone look so perfect? How could every feature be so meticulously crafted, as if he had stepped out of a dream? My irritation melted away, replaced by a sense of awe and bewilderment. In that moment, I knew I would never forget the first time I saw him, the man who had the power to stop time with just a glance.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and my body immediately started to feel something different. It was his voice that made me feel it. The voice was even more beautiful than him, deep, calm, and the kind that made anything sound appealing. It was rich and velvety, wrapping around me like a warm blanket on a cold night.
I was so nervous and lost in his eyes, I couldn't reply. His aura silenced me, making me feel weak in a way I had never experienced before. His presence was overwhelming, a combination of power and elegance that left me breathless. His arms, strong and muscular, looked like they could hold and protect me from anything. The way his suit jacket clung to his broad shoulders and defined biceps only emphasized his physical strength.His chest was broad and his posture exuded confidence, standing tall and assured. The suit he wore was tailored to perfection, accentuating every contour of his athletic build. His waist tapered down to lean hips, and even his legs, long and powerful, seemed to be perfectly proportioned.But it wasn't just his physical appearance that drew me in. There was an undeniable charisma about him, a magnetism that pulled me closer despite my attempts to maintain some semblance of composure.
As I stood there, completely mesmerized, I couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to be enveloped in those arms, to feel his strength wrapped around me, offering comfort and protection. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my heart race, pounding in my chest with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Never in my life had I thought I'd feel so weak in the presence of a man. It was as if he had cast a spell on me, rendering me powerless to do anything but stand there and gaze up at him, completely entranced. The world around us seemed to blur, leaving just the two of us in that moment, and all I could think about was how desperately I wanted to be near him, to feel the safety and security of his embrace.
As I stood there, mesmerized and admiring him without even realizing it, a sudden movement caught my attention. A man appeared beside him, murmuring something urgent into his ear. It was clear he needed to leave, as the man's demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly from relaxed to alert. Within moments, a swarm of people materialized seemingly out of nowhere—journalists with their flashing cameras, eager fans, and a throng of excited girls, all vying for his attention. Bodyguards swiftly intervened, creating a barrier between him and the burgeoning crowd.
He must be an actor, I thought, watching the spectacle unfold. With looks like his, he could easily be more famous than any pop star alive. Despite the chaos surrounding him, I couldn't tear my eyes away. As he moved through the crowd, something astonishing happened—he glanced back at me. Our eyes met, and my heart skipped a beat, pounding so fiercely that I feared it might burst from my chest. For a brief, surreal moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, reality came crashing back, and I was left standing alone, surrounded by the scattered bags I had been carrying. Hastily, I knelt down to gather the fallen items, feeling the sting of embarrassment rise in my cheeks.
As I was collecting the last of the scattered gifts, another man approached. He had the unmistakable bearing of a bodyguard or perhaps an assistant. Without a word, he bent down and began helping me. "I appreciate it, but I can manage," I said, my voice tinged with the remnants of my earlier irritation.He looked up, his expression calm and reassuring. "I insist. Someone sent me to help you," he replied. There was something comforting in his demeanor, a sense of quiet efficiency. I wondered briefly who could have sent him. The mysterious man who had captivated me moments ago? The thought made my heart flutter anew."Thank you," I murmured, accepting his assistance. As we gathered the last of the bags, I stole a final glance in the direction where the enigmatic man had disappeared, still feeling the echo of his gaze upon me. The world felt a little less ordinary in that moment, filled with the promise of something extraordinary.After the man helped me, he insisted on carrying my bags inside, despite my repeated reassurances that I was fine. His concern was evident as he asked if I was hurt from the fall. Although I did have a small scratch on my hand, I chose not to mention it, deeming it too minor to warrant attention.As we approached the venue, I was struck by how much more crowded it seemed this year. The sheer number of people bustling about made me wonder what had drawn such a larger crowd than usual. Pushing the thought aside, I stepped inside and felt the weight of countless eyes on me. The familiarity of this scrutiny didn't make it any easier to bear.Without letting my nervousness creep down my spine, I clung to Lucy's words from earlier that evening: "Be confident and don't let anyone pull you down." Drawing a deep breath, I walked with as much poise as I could muster, determined to project an air of self-assurance.The grand hall was a sea of elegantly dressed attendees, each engaged in their own conversations, laughter, and polite exchanges. Chandeliers cast a warm glow over the opulent decor, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and celebration. My eyes scanned the room, searching for familiar faces amidst the crowd. Despite the chaos, I felt a sense of pride swelling within me. Mark's success was being celebrated, and I was part of this significant moment for our family. As I continued to weave through the throng of guests, I could hear snippets of conversations, accolades for my brother, and the hum of admiration. I finally spotted my family near the front of the hall, gathered in a small circle. My parents stood with their heads held high, basking in the glow of Mark's achievement. Mark himself looked every bit the successful doctor, surrounded by colleagues and admirers. Ary and Melissa were nearby, engrossed in conversation, their expressions a mix of pride and self-importance. As I approached them, I felt a renewed sense of determination. Tonight was about celebrating Mark, but it was also about showing that I belonged here, despite the doubts that often plagued me. With Lucy's words echoing in my mind, I squared my shoulders and joined my family, ready to face everything.
"You're finally here. When will you be punctual enough?" Melissa's voice cut through the bustling noise of the hall, sharp and unforgiving. Her eyes bore into me with a familiar disdain. "Look at others and look at you. Do you still think you belong to our family?" Her words hit like a slap, but I bit my tongue, refusing to let her see how deeply they wounded me. I had fought hard to muster the courage to walk into this room, and I wouldn't let her shatter it so easily. Ary's voice followed, laced with the same scorn. "Who is the man behind you carrying your bags?" "He's just here to help me," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady, my heart pounding in my chest. "You needed help to carry these small little bags? How much more of a pathetic loser can you be?" Ary sneered, her expression twisted into a mocking grin. Both she and Melissa erupted into laughter, their voices blending into a cruel symphony that echoed in my ears. I forced myself to ignore their taunts, but each word settled heavily in my chest, a weight that threatened to crush the fragile confidence I had built up. My hands trembled slightly, and I clenched them into fists, trying to steady myself. The man who had helped me, sensing the tension, spoke up. "Where should I put these bags?" he asked, his voice a soothing contrast to the harshness I had just endured. "Over there," I managed to say, pointing to a table in the corner of the hall. My voice was barely above a whisper, but he nodded and moved to place the bags where I had indicated. I watched him, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment washing over me. Here was a stranger, showing me kindness amidst my own family's cruelty. I could feel my stomach churn at the sight of my sisters' smug faces, but I forced myself to stand tall. This night was about Mark, not me. I wouldn't let their pettiness ruin it. With the bags settled, I took a deep breath and looked around the crowded hall. Elegant gowns and sharp suits filled the space, the air thick with the hum of animated conversations and the clinking of glasses.