Strings (1 of 2)

"He smiles and life isn't as hard as it used to be." - Blake Auden

May 2019

When I was younger, my brother would accompany me to every party or gala or any other pretentious gathering our parents forced us to go to. I would cry my eyes out and hide in the basement before every event while my parents lost their minds trying to find me. Eventually, he would find me and try to drag me out of the shadows.

"I'll be right beside you," he would reassure me, his bright blue eyes shining even in the darkness of the basement storage room.

"Do you promise?" I would ask, taking his hand to crawl out of the small hole under the stairs that my parents never went down there long enough to notice.

"I promise you, Em." He would say in the compassionate voice he saved only for me.

But now I'm 24... and he can't be right beside me at every event.

Now I have to stand alone in the entrance of the Virage hotel, glancing around the room for someone - anyone - that I know and can talk to.

I see a sign with the seating chart and find our family name, Covington.

Table 1. I should have guessed.

Smoothing nervous hands over my black glittering dress down my stomach, I make my way to the front of the main hall where the event is being held. I picked a relatively short dress, to my mid-thigh - long enough to be acceptable, short enough to move easily if I need to make a quick getaway.

These events never get easier with time. I don't know how long I will be able to deal with it tonight. Especially tonight.

Reaching the table, my mother turns around in her long red satin dress and smiles at me. It's for show. She has to impress the people watching her. She is likely still annoyed with me that I put up a fight about coming. But she got her way... I'm here... threatening to take away my new apartment in New York City will have that effect.

She extends her arms to motion me forward and rests her hand on my upper back, introducing me to the group she is standing with.

"My beautiful daughter, Emily," she beams. I groan inwardly.

I say all the needed greetings and glance around for my father. I spot him across the room chatting up more rich-looking men. Typical.

Well, that's all of the two people I know here. Now what do I do for the rest of the night?

There's only one next option.

"You look lost," the bartender smirks as I sigh and lean against the bar. He's cute, in a boy-ish way, but too young. If he's over 21, I would be shocked. He probably used a fake ID to get this job... but who am I to judge?

"More like uncomfortable." I shrug as I take my gin and tonic from him and take a sip. I may not party very much anymore, but liquid courage is necessary to give this event another hour.

"Not your thing?" He asks, motioning his hands in a sweeping motion toward the event behind me. He has a nice smile, I'll give him that. If I ignore his youthful eyes, I can admire his perfect teeth and defined jaw. He's fit, too - it's obvious underneath his black uniform.

He's flirting - or trying to. I should be flattered. If this were another event, I might even say 'fuck it' and flirt back. Maybe even leave with him. But tonight, the reason for this party is anything other than what I would want to celebrate and the uneasy pressure in my chest won't leave.

"Never," I reply to him and take another sip of my drink.

He opens his mouth to reply-

"Emily?"