A Ball room

"Do I look okay?" Lucas points at his outfit.

"No, you look like you're going to collapse," I answer and close the passenger door. "You need to loosen up a bit, Lu, you're not going to an interview. So, stay calm."

   Today afternoon, I've come to the Greenham Manor with my friend Lucas, my grandparents arranged a social party because of my father's returning. It still seems like unreal to me, you know, that my father has returned. When he returned home, he looked quiet and sad, like he couldn't believe that he was back to his family. The news in television on paper are saying that an inmate has escaped San Quentin state prison name Adam Hirands, but no news are mentioning a thing about my father or Mahone. Of course, our family has already informed the mass media about my father's returning and ignored the reason of his missing situation, because it would cause more gossip and rumors.

I smile brightly and tangle my arm with Lucas's, walking to the entrance. I'm wearing a light blue medium length gown, with sleeveless straps near the shoulder and a silver, shining necklace of star-shaped design. I haven't worn much makeup and kept my hair loose, I don't know how I do look, but when I asked him, he said that I looked stunning. God knows if he was saying truth or flattering me.

   The main hall of the manor is decorated gorgeously with beautiful flowers and chandeliers and various candles. This manor is enough big, it was also made a long time ago, in 1800s, so the ancient look is normal here. In a corner of the hall, some musicians are playing classical music by violin and cello in a low, soft pitch. The main dance in here hasn't been started yet, the guests are normally chatting with each other, eating and listening to the music.

Lucas taps me on my shoulder, "Hey."

I turn to him and see he's holding a glass of pink champagne in his hand. He already finished the half, I take the glass from him.

"What?" I sip the drink, looking up at him.

"Who is the guy beside the food table? The one with sexy, black hair?" He lowers his voice, twisting his fingers.

"Who?" I glance at his told direction. "Oh, that guy with black hair, talking with a ridiculously pretty woman? The woman is my Aunt Pearl and the guy is Edward McFidden, her lovely husband. I thought you knew her. Sorry to say, Lucas, I don't think he's your type," I giggle.

"Ahh, stop kidding around!" he pinches lightly on my forehead. "Not that guy, the young guy standing beside them. He's folding his arms, blue-eyed, gazing coldly around. Look, he's looking at us!" he grabs the drink from me, gulping, looking away from him.

"What are you? Twelve?" I raise my eyebrows astonishingly. "You're acting like it's your first crush. By the way, since you want to know his name so much, why don't you ask him yourself?" my eyes move down at his chest, "God, look at you. You spilled pink champagne at your white shirt." 

I put the glass down at the tray by bearing a waiter and open my purse for a tissue. "Here. Use it," I offer him the tissue.

"Sam," A cold voice speaks beside me.

"Storm," I look at his side, then turn to Lucas. "Lucas, meet Storm McFidden, my cousin," I smile briefly at him, "Storm, meet Lucas Parker, my friend."

Lucas shakes his hand, looking a little awkward, his ears have turned red. 

"Nice to meet you," Storm replies flatly, then narrows his eyes at me. "You seem nervous, Samlin. Shouldn't you be very happy that uncle is back?" he pulls out a cigar case from his pocket. "You know, many people are saying many things about him. Oh, oh, don't we have a family meeting after this social gathering? Are you nervous about discussing your little action last night?"

"What little action?" Lucas asks confusedly.

"Your tie is crooked, Storm," I smile, moving closer to him and touch his collar. "You know, I used to ask too much questions about everything when I was little. Sometimes," I whisper, looking into his eyes. "That could be a very, very good thing, but again, it could be a very stupid and dangerous thing," I tighten the knot around his neck. 

His face becomes pale, "Stop doing this."

"See, your problem is, you ask and think too much. You think, you're smart, pretend to know everything and I don't have a fucking clue with who you hang out. You also think you're half Greenham," I tighten the knot more, laughing. "But trust me, you'll never be a fucking Greenham, 'cause your father made sure of that."

"Samlin," a strict voice calls out for me.

"Stick your nose to own your bowl, if you want to live normally, Storm," I move my hands to his shoulders, patting him, then turn to my grandmother. "Grandma, how are you? Oh, I was having a lovely conversation with my cousin. See, how tall he has grown!" 

Storm starts to cough, glaring at me.

Lucas rolls his eyes at me, then smiles politely at her. "Mrs. Greenham. It's a pleasure to meet you," he kisses her hand.

"You too, Mr. Parker," she gives him a rare smile, then stares at her grandson. "Storm, why don't you show him the around? I need to borrow Samlin for a while. You two carry on, please."

"Sure, Grandmother," Storm nods unwillingly.

"Enjoy, Lucas," I wink at him playfully.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

    My grandmother, Wandara Greenham, is the one of the strongest women I have ever seen in my entire life. Trust me, I'm not really exaggerating this. Since my grandfather died in a plane crash about nine years ago, she was the one who started to run our famous wine business. She not only continued this business brilliantly and powerfully, but also created a new brand, 'Wonder', of champagne business with her own recipe. I don't let myself be consumed or considered by the word 'Fear', but to tell in truth, I may be a little fear her.

And I also admire her.

She closes the oak door of her office, then beckons me to take a seat in a chair silently. I do as she told, watching her carefully. She removes the white gloves from her hands, then picks up the cigarette packet from her well tidy up desk, lighting a one. I look up at the large portrait hanging above the desk, of her and my grandfather's. I was always so fond of him, but there was one thing about rich people like him, that I could never accept except just compromising.

It was pride.

Yes, I have pride too, but my pride and his weren't same. His pride was about power and might, about doing anything he wanted to do.

"You look beautiful today," she suddenly speaks, puffing out the smoke. 

"Thank you," I say slowly. It was super weird, because getting praises from my grandmother, was as hard as to find existence in the Mars. 

"Don't worry, I won't take much time of you. You can go back to the dance floor after a while," she seems to understand me. 

"Grandma. Can I know what did you want to talk about with me?" I ask her gently.

She sits straight at her chair, looking sharply into my eyes. "Are you now back with Lynn Vandestine?" she throws a sudden question.

Apparently, she knows everything about him.

"No," I shake my head.

"So, why are you wearing the necklace he gave you three years ago?" She smiles, pointing at my collarbone.

I chuckle. "Grandma, we both know I'm not here to talk about my ex boyfriend, okay? Please don't ask this witty questions, just__ tell me what you do want to know."

She taps the cigarette on the ashtray, then says knowingly, "You're getting angry."

"I am trying not to."

"Okay, here's the thing," she gazes at me. "I don't know why your father isn't talking with me. Your mother sent me off from seeing my son by telling that he's sick. Inferno, I am arranging this social party for him, dealing with his fellow reporters, but I don't even know if he's coming. And you, Samlin," she takes a deep smoke. "You have a serious explanation to do tell me. Don't lie to me, girl, don't forget that I was a half gypsy."

"What if I don't tell you now?" I ask.

"Then, you have to say the truth in front of every Greenham in the family meeting. But, I'm kindly making here an exception for you, because I know you well, Samlin."

I stare at her, thinking deeply.

"It's your choice," she says again.

Samlin Greenham 

"Do I look okay?" Lucas points at his outfit.

"No, you look like you're going to collapse," I answer and close the passenger door. "You need to loosen up a bit, Lu, you're not going to an interview. So, stay calm."

   Today afternoon, I've come to the Greenham Manor with my friend Lucas, my grandparents arranged a social party because of my father's returning. It still seems like unreal to me, you know, that my father has returned. When he returned home, he looked quiet and sad, like he couldn't believe that he was back to his family. The news in television on paper are saying that an inmate has escaped San Quentin state prison name Adam Hirands, but no news are mentioning a thing about my father or Mahone. Of course, our family has already informed the mass media about my father's returning and ignored the reason of his missing situation, because it would cause more gossip and rumors.

I smile brightly and tangle my arm with Lucas's, walking to the entrance. I'm wearing a light blue medium length gown, with sleeveless straps near the shoulder and a silver, shining necklace of star-shaped design. I haven't worn much makeup and kept my hair loose, I don't know how I do look, but when I asked him, he said that I looked stunning. God knows if he was saying truth or flattering me.

   The main hall of the manor is decorated gorgeously with beautiful flowers and chandeliers and various candles. This manor is enough big, it was also made a long time ago, in 1800s, so the ancient look is normal here. In a corner of the hall, some musicians are playing classical music by violin and cello in a low, soft pitch. The main dance in here hasn't been started yet, the guests are normally chatting with each other, eating and listening to the music.

Lucas taps me on my shoulder, "Hey."

I turn to him and see he's holding a glass of pink champagne in his hand. He already finished the half, I take the glass from him.

"What?" I sip the drink, looking up at him.

"Who is the guy beside the food table? The one with sexy, black hair?" He lowers his voice, twisting his fingers.

"Who?" I glance at his told direction. "Oh, that guy with black hair, talking with a ridiculously pretty woman? The woman is my Aunt Pearl and the guy is Edward McFidden, her lovely husband. I thought you knew her. Sorry to say, Lucas, I don't think he's your type," I giggle.

"Ahh, stop kidding around!" he pinches lightly on my forehead. "Not that guy, the young guy standing beside them. He's folding his arms, blue-eyed, gazing coldly around. Look, he's looking at us!" he grabs the drink from me, gulping, looking away from him.

"What are you? Twelve?" I raise my eyebrows astonishingly. "You're acting like it's your first crush. By the way, since you want to know his name so much, why don't you ask him yourself?" my eyes move down at his chest, "God, look at you. You spilled pink champagne at your white shirt." 

I put the glass down at the tray by bearing a waiter and open my purse for a tissue. "Here. Use it," I offer him the tissue.

"Sam," A cold voice speaks beside me.

"Storm," I look at his side, then turn to Lucas. "Lucas, meet Storm McFidden, my cousin," I smile briefly at him, "Storm, meet Lucas Parker, my friend."

Lucas shakes his hand, looking a little awkward, his ears have turned red. 

"Nice to meet you," Storm replies flatly, then narrows his eyes at me. "You seem nervous, Samlin. Shouldn't you be very happy that uncle is back?" he pulls out a cigar case from his pocket. "You know, many people are saying many things about him. Oh, oh, don't we have a family meeting after this social gathering? Are you nervous about discussing your little action last night?"

"What little action?" Lucas asks confusedly.

"Your tie is crooked, Storm," I smile, moving closer to him and touch his collar. "You know, I used to ask too much questions about everything when I was little. Sometimes," I whisper, looking into his eyes. "That could be a very, very good thing, but again, it could be a very stupid and dangerous thing," I tighten the knot around his neck. 

His face becomes pale, "Stop doing this."

"See, your problem is, you ask and think too much. You think, you're smart, pretend to know everything and I don't have a fucking clue with who you hang out. You also think you're half Greenham," I tighten the knot more, laughing. "But trust me, you'll never be a fucking Greenham, 'cause your father made sure of that."

"Samlin," a strict voice calls out for me.

"Stick your nose to own your bowl, if you want to live normally, Storm," I move my hands to his shoulders, patting him, then turn to my grandmother. "Grandma, how are you? Oh, I was having a lovely conversation with my cousin. See, how tall he has grown!" 

Storm starts to cough, glaring at me.

Lucas rolls his eyes at me, then smiles politely at her. "Mrs. Greenham. It's a pleasure to meet you," he kisses her hand.

"You too, Mr. Parker," she gives him a rare smile, then stares at her grandson. "Storm, why don't you show him the around? I need to borrow Samlin for a while. You two carry on, please."

"Sure, Grandmother," Storm nods unwillingly.

"Enjoy, Lucas," I wink at him playfully.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

    My grandmother, Wandara Greenham, is the one of the strongest women I have ever seen in my entire life. Trust me, I'm not really exaggerating this. Since my grandfather died in a plane crash about nine years ago, she was the one who started to run our famous wine business. She not only continued this business brilliantly and powerfully, but also created a new brand, 'Wonder', of champagne business with her own recipe. I don't let myself be consumed or considered by the word 'Fear', but to tell in truth, I may be a little fear her.

And I also admire her.

She closes the oak door of her office, then beckons me to take a seat in a chair silently. I do as she told, watching her carefully. She removes the white gloves from her hands, then picks up the cigarette packet from her well tidy up desk, lighting a one. I look up at the large portrait hanging above the desk, of her and my grandfather's. I was always so fond of him, but there was one thing about rich people like him, that I could never accept except just compromising.

It was pride.

Yes, I have pride too, but my pride and his weren't same. His pride was about power and might, about doing anything he wanted to do.

"You look beautiful today," she suddenly speaks, puffing out the smoke. 

"Thank you," I say slowly. It was super weird, because getting praises from my grandmother, was as hard as to find existence in the Mars. 

"Don't worry, I won't take much time of you. You can go back to the dance floor after a while," she seems to understand me. 

"Grandma. Can I know what did you want to talk about with me?" I ask her gently.

She sits straight at her chair, looking sharply into my eyes. "Are you now back with Lynn Vandestine?" she throws a sudden question.

Apparently, she knows everything about him.

"No," I shake my head.

"So, why are you wearing the necklace he gave you three years ago?" She smiles, pointing at my collarbone.

I chuckle. "Grandma, we both know I'm not here to talk about my ex boyfriend, okay? Please don't ask this witty questions, just__ tell me what you do want to know."

She taps the cigarette on the ashtray, then says knowingly, "You're getting angry."

"I am trying not to."

"Okay, here's the thing," she gazes at me. "I don't know why your father isn't talking with me. Your mother sent me off from seeing my son by telling that he's sick. Inferno, I am arranging this social party for him, dealing with his fellow reporters, but I don't even know if he's coming. And you, Samlin," she takes a deep smoke. "You have a serious explanation to do tell me. Don't lie to me, girl, don't forget that I was a half gypsy."

"What if I don't tell you now?" I ask.

"Then, you have to say the truth in front of every Greenham in the family meeting. But, I'm kindly making here an exception for you, because I know you well, Samlin."

I stare at her, thinking deeply.

"It's your choice," she says again.