The heiress’s Revenge

  It’s my 21st birthday party and everyone put in a lot of effort to make this party this grand. The tables are all draped in gold table clothes and vases that make it hard to see the person in front of you stand center stage. But to be honest the people that are sitting on those tables don’t need to see the person in-front of them because they’d be too busy gossiping to care.

  

  The whole antire room is a masterpiece of opulence, designed to impress even the most discerning guests. Walls adorned with lavish artwork, from priceless paintings to intricate sculptures, set the tone for an evening of refinement and luxury. The floors are polished to a high shine, reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden light over the space. Plush velvet drapes in a rich, jewel-toned hue framed the windows, adding depth and texture to the room. The air is filled with the sweet scent of fresh flowers, arranged in exquisite bouquets that adorn the tables and mantle.

  

  As the pièce de résistance, the room featured an expansive bar area, stocked with an impressive selection of fine wines, champagnes, and craft cocktails. Bartenders in tailored suits expertly mixed drinks, while servers circulated with trays of hors d'oeuvres, each bite a testament to the culinary expertise of the chef. The furniture is a mix of modern and antique pieces, carefully curated to create a sense of timeless elegance. Guests mingle and laugh, their designer gowns and suits a testament to the luxurious atmosphere. In this room, every detail had been meticulously considered to create an unforgettable experience for the party's esteemed guests.

  And I hate every second of it.

  This is all too much for me, if I had it my way I would have had a small get together with my few friends and family- people who actually care about me not what I’m wearing or who I’ll marry now that I’m of age.

  But this isn’t just my party. Honestly I didn’t even have a say on the color scheme right down to the dress I’m wearing.

  This is a joint birthday party for me and my friend Clare Haistings though if you look at the big words written up on the decorative band on the front of the room you’d think it was only just her birthday because for some reason my name was written with a smaller font and because of the lighting in the room it’s barely visible. When I talked to my sister about it she just shrugged me off and told me to grow up. Her exact words were “Grow up Aria. It’s just a name no one cares” and I mean maybe she’s right but I can’t help but feel like if Clare’s name was the one not visible she would have unleashed havoc and no one would have told her to grow up.

  But me and Clare are not the same. Ever since we became friends everyone was confused. Clare Haistings is a pretty girl and she is confident and loved by everyone she comes across while I like to keep to myself and don’t give a fuck if someone likes me or not. But I do think I’m beautiful. Maybe that’s why Clare chose to be my friend. Even though our mothers are friends Clare and I were never close but suddenly after we entered high school Clare told everyone I was her best friend. I went along with it because my friend Zara Graham was sent to a different high school than me and I was lonely. Since then Clare made a big deal about the fact that we were born on the same day and she insisted that our birthdays are to be celebrated together. I loved it at first but now it feels like everyone gradually forgot it was my birthday too. Like right now, everyone if flocking to Clare giving her birthday wishes and presents.

  Even my own family started doing this a few years ago. That was when Clare momentarily saved my mother from her sickness. After that my father sat us down- both the Reed family and the Haistings family and told us that I’m to serve Clare Haistings from then on. Because no amount of money would be enough to thank her for what she had done so he had to give him his younger daughter.

  Even though during that time she said it was unnecessary and it was too much Clare has made use of this privilege quite often than not. She has made me give up my car which was a gift to me from my mother on my 16 birthday, a family hairlom that has been in my family for years, my room which she claimed and I had to be moved to a guest room in my own home. Those are just a few major things she took from me but there’s more little things like when she orders plain milk knowing damn well she’s lactose intolerant and I have to sacrifice my drink of choice that day or when my father gives us the same amount of money to spend and she chooses to buy ugly clothes that she later realizes she doesn’t want, throws them away and then I’m forced to give her whatever I brought because she feels sad that she technically didn’t get anything. 

  But I don’t mind it she must have valid reasons for doing these things. Like when she said she needed the car but couldn’t get it because her parents had just purchased a resort house that month. She also needed the ring because she felt like she didn’t know her own grandmother and wanted to have something from her time. She needed my room because it’s much bigger than the guest rooms and she needs a lot of space for her clothes and makeup stuff.

  And of course my birthday parties.Those I haven’t found reasons why she has been slowly erasing me from them but I will. 

  I have to. Because Clare helped my mother and I have to be grateful to her.

  As if I’ve summoned her by thinking about her Clare shows up beside me with a glass of wine in her hand. Her long blonde hair falls around her shoulders in perfect waves, her makeup is so perfectly done it looks like she doesn’t have any on. Her dress molds to her body perfectly because it was literally made for her. My father had a designer come in and make our dresses all we had to do was choose the designs which ended up being chosen by Clare and that is why I’m in a dress that rivals a potato sack and she’s wearing one that hugs her hips perfectly but I don’t mind, the ugly dress means that less people will notice me.

  But Clare still notices me.

  Shit.