~2 Hours Before the Party~
A sigh left her lips as she glanced down at the blinking notification on her phone for the 32nd time in the last hour.
From: Blue Royalty
To: Candice Clarke
Candice hadn’t yet made any movements to even look at it – knowing that the minute she did, her life would be controlled by (what she considered) an idiotic game. Hell, if it was up to her… she would skip this party and be cooped up reading her favorite book in the comfort of her pajamas at home. Though all such thoughts were tarnished a second later as she found her mother entering her bedroom – a disapproving look present on the women’s features and a glass of Rosé already within her hand.
“Candice… You’re not even ready yet? It’s like you don’t care how important today is for the rest of your life,” her mother uttered, displeasure seething out of her voice. Though, it was nothing Candice hadn’t heard before – after all, who was she if not an utter disappointment to her mother?
Candice’s phone made another buzz driving her attention away from her mother before she could reply. Though the moment she looked down, the phone was snatched out of her proximity by the same women. “Darling, You didn’t tell me you received your tasks. I remember like it was only yesterday when I was your age and received my first tasks. Let me see.” She stated – though the way she asked, Candice understood it wasn’t a question.
With yet another sigh, Candice unlocked the phone – allowing her mother to be the one and only person who would see the list besides her. “Easy. You could do this with your eyes closed. They’ve really slacked off since my time… now go get changed and let me see what you’ve picked out.”
Getting up off the comfort of her bed, Candice begrudgedly went to her walk-in closet, closing the doors behind her. As she entered the extravagant room – one her mother had especially designed as “her daughter would only have the best” blah – Candice took a seat on the staircase situated inside. Taking her phone out, Candice had decided it was time to take a look at what she would be “striving” for during that night, though she regretted it the moment she did.
“God damn it,” she whispered, throwing the phone on her ground. She hated it – the game, her mother, all of it. But something in the back of her mind told her she couldn’t disappoint her mother – a voice that had been guiding her actions from the moment she was born.
As she looked at her phone sitting on the floor, she had this urge to talk to someone, anyone even for just a moment. Picking up the device, she scrolled through her contacts and her finger hovered above the name “Dominic Lucier,” - though she stopped herself. In all honesty, she should have deleted that number off of her phone years ago – though she never had the heart. Holding her head high, Candice turned off the device and took a minute sitting in silence before grabbing the dress she had picked out and changed.
She exited the closet only to find her mother on the phone, deep in what seemed like an “important” conversation about the next charity fundraiser she was hosting – though as the women saw her daughter exiting the words “Will you hold,” left her lips.
“You’re wearing that? Why don’t you wear that black dress with the low neckline? And black hides that extra baby weight?” her mother stated, though before Candice could even reply, her mother had already begun talking on the phone again – exiting her room with that comment.
In a few words Candice was infuriated, annoyed, and just generally p^ssed off. It was this very anger what fueled what the girl did next. At that moment, Candice put on her leather jacket – not bothering to change – and made her way to her mother’s personal bar. Entering the room, she grabbed a bottle of Russo-Baltique Vodka her mother had been saving and did three shots – just enough to get her tipsy enough to make it through the party. With that, she made her way outside to the driver her mother had prepared for her.
Entering the venue, Candice could feel the alcohol going to her head. She had always been what people called a “fun” drunk though from her point of view, she was simply ready to party after having a few drinks in her. Heading towards the bar, Candice quickly stopped in her tracks seeing the familiar dirty blonde hair of her ex. With that, an involuntary “no, no, nope” left her lips as she attempted to make a quick exit – though in doing so, crashing into another party-goer.
“I… hiccup would be sorry… but… hiccup” she whispered, hiccupping - a clear sign she displayed after drinking – “… but I’m a little, hiccup itsy bitsy tipsy so you’ll have to… hiccup forgive me.”
Mentioned: @Caticorn (Dominic Lucier)
ORP: Available for whoever wants to be the person who Candice will have a drunken conversation with