The loyalty in the lie

Amara.

There was only one word that could give right definition to social functions and gatherings; BULLSHIT. 

Everything about it is false. People who wouldn't hesitate to stab a knife into your back while smiling into your face with hopes to gain something from it always, always made sure to attend it.

Today's gathering was a charity for Black-footed ferrets that nobody gave a shit about. I mean, I felt pity the animals were endangered and all but, I was certain none of the people in the room actually cared about the animals. They were all here for the scene, for business deals and for people like my parents, to force their children into the shackles of eternal misery called marriage.

It was an endless pattern for the rich and socialite -a gut-wrenching pattern.

From my position at a corner of the room, I swirled the remaining content of my glass as I ran my eyes through the crowd in search of nothing and everything at the same time and to give people a better fitting of their choice of dressing in my head.

"Oh shit," the cuss slipped through my lips just as I turned my head to the right and caught a glance of a piece of shit in human form. Of course he'd be here. Mom and Dad -Mom especially- wouldn't have missed inviting him. But hell no, there was no way I was letting him see me tonight. Even if it meant pissing Mom off.

Drowning the small wine remaining in my glass in one gulp, I spun on my heels to dash into the crowd but a brick wall appeared on my path and I dashed into it. My forehead must be red if I checked but my pain I felt was the least of interest at the moment. I needed to get away from him.

Far, far away. 

"How come I wasn't told we were also doing a race for this charity." A deep voice which I suppose belonged to the 'brick wall' said.

Without caring to respond, I looked over my shoulders to the person I was trying to avoid, shit, he was nearing me and of course he had that stupid smug on his face.

"Hey," I said to the man before me, "can you be my boyfriend? Just for five minutes." He raised a brow and corked his head. Clearly, my request was insane but I couldn't care less. "You're not a serial killer or something, right?"

"How many times do I have to do it to make it serial?"

"Five?" I replied, my nerves bustling with the need to run farther into the crowd. 

Up until a year and half ago, me and my cousin would have locked ourselves up in my room, binge watching an available comedy show while stuffing my faces with ice cream and pretending as though there was nothing going on underneath us. Or peeking through the window to mock those uptight women about their choice of dressing while stuffing our faces with ice cream of course.

And speaking of my cousin, where the fuck is she?

"Well then we're good to go." He sneered, a hint of mockery evident in his voice.

My brows furrowed instinctively at the insolence, my tongue twitching to give him one of my classic comebacks but I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying anything. I needed to deal with that asshole first then, I'd come back to deal with this asshole.

Sucking in a deep breath, I pressed myself to his side as I picked his hand -which was very heavy for the record- and wrapped it around my waist.

"Amara," I heard his stupid aristocratic voice call out as he approached us. A scowl fought its way up my face in response but I clenched my jaw and lifted my face with the best smile I could muster.

"Vincent," I chimed -croaked. The man next to me chuckled lightly and I jabbed him while flashing Vincent my bright smile.

"I have been looking for you everywhere. Your Mom even permitted me to break your door and drag you out if you had been there." The fuck you would, I wanted to yell but I kept my cool, forcing my smile to stay on. 

Vincent looked different today, save for his dressing style that screamed British patriarch, I would have assumed he was a decent man but, I knew better than be fooled by his...whatever.

I kept my eyes on him as he roamed his on my body. I was wearing a cream-coloured dress that gave out my dark brown skin. Mom had chosen it for me herself after I had refused to pick out one. After putting on the dress this evening, I found out the reason she chose it was because of what it did to my body. 

An applause to Mom for at least knowing my dress size enough to reduce it by half.

Vincent raised a brow, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he slowly licked his lips. The fucker was looking at me like I was some dessert on the table. And he didn't even mind that be was eye-fucking me. Publicly! 

My fists curled with the need to disfigure his stupid nose and I would have if Mom and Dad had not constantly warned me for days not to do anything stupid to ruin their 'big event.'