Selena

I've always seen masquerade parties in the movies. The enchanting, fairytale mansions, filled with women in puffy dresses and excessive jewelry. A certain kind of grace floating in the air, as sophisticated instruments play romantic tunes.

So I went all out for tonight.

My pink dress reminds me of Rapunzel, but the wild and slightly provocative version. It has cutouts on the waist and a criss-cross open back, with a low-cut, sweetheart neckline. It's innocent. But it isn't. And I really identify with that.

"You ready for tonight?" He breaks the silence behind the rented car's wheel.

"Yeah." I give a half-hearted shrug. "I'm curious to find out what Roxie wants to talk about."

To be honest, I wasn't expecting her to personally invite me. It made me feel kind of special. People usually don't do stuff like that with me. I'm always an outsider.

It gives me friendship butterflies and I have to do a little shimmy to let it out.

Adam huffs. "Let's see."

"You're crankier than usual." I study his stoic profile, the way that perfectly imperfect string of hair falls over his forehead.

"I don't want to go."

"Huh? Then why are we going?"

He releases a throaty sigh, gripping the leather wheel harder. "We have to, now can you stop with the questions?"

Whoa. He's really cranky.

I give him the silence he so desperately needs until we reach the white two-story house. Painful music pounds behind the walls, getting louder and louder with each step we take. With every dreadful second, my heart detaches itself and snakes up my throat, clogging all access to air.

"H-hold on." I grab onto Adam's arm, tripping on my flimsy heel.

"What's wrong?"

Panic attack. That's what I want to say, but my tongue won't move. My lungs are no longer functioning. The world is going to end and fuck, this is so fucking embarrassing.

As I inhale too much air too fast, my vision starts turning black. My eyes are closing. Without hesitation, Adam cups his warm hand over my mouth and wraps his other hand around the back of my neck, making it impossible to pull away.

"Breathe. Take a deep breath. Breathe, Selena. Come on." His voice is smooth and raspy, and it tingles me all over. I helplessly comply. "There you go. Again, sweetheart. Deep breath. Come on. Good girl. Keep going."

I go from my lungs ripping out of my skin to filling them with much needed air, clutching Adam's hand like it's my only life-support. Gratitude washes over me, with intense relief, and I whimper a muffled 'thank you.'

That was the most terrifying minute of my life. What a terrorizing nightmare.

Once I come to my senses, I realize I've made Adam's hand wet and drop it from my face.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." I lower my head in shame.

"No need to apologize at all." He looks over his shoulder at the front door, then back at me. "Look, it's going to be intense in there. But I promise you, you're safe. Alright? Just trust me."

There's urgency, almost desperation in his request. It makes me give in with a nod.

Inside, it's dark, with deep blue and purple lights. Fairy lights and candles illuminate the space. Pink roses and azaleas cascade from table centerpieces, where a bunch of kids are enjoying all kinds of desserts.

We walk out into the backyard, where teenagers are partying. A group of them are vaping and drinking out of red cups, while the rest are splashing each other in the pool.

"Oh my God?" Leah gasps, appearing before Adam. Her eyes water. "What are you doing here?"

"Surprise." Adam smiles, bending down to accept her hug.

"I missed you so much!"

"Is that alcohol?" He notices the red cup in her hand.

"Of course, not." Leah pulls away and chugs the rest of her drink down. "It was grape juice. Hi, Selena. Nice to see you again." She offers me a polite smile.

I force one back, thankful that Adam cuts in. "Have you see Roxie?"

"Mhm. She's in the back house, with the rest of the adults." Leah guides us aside, thankfully away from the obnoxious music.

We walk across the backyard towards the second house, which is just ground-level and more modest.

Two Dobermanns growl behind sharp-ended gates, their glares gleaming in the night.

Inside, it's all cigarette smoke and alcohol stench. A bunch of older men with their button-down sleeves rolled around tatted forearms, are smoking around a pool table. On the left, older women with bold makeup and provocative dresses are playing poker. There are guns everywhere. Alcohol bottles and glasses. Ashtrays and cash. Lots and lots of cash.

Leah strolls ahead of us like she's enjoying the best weather at a park. When we finally approach what I assume is Roxie's office, she knocks on her door five times with an intentional rhythm.

"Come in." An assertive woman's voice orders from the inside.

Leah opens the door, beaming with excitement. "Guess who's here?"

I catch a glimpse of Roxie behind her black leather chair. The moment she sees Adam, her murderous resting face glows with affection. But drops when she sees me standing next to him.

"Why is she in my office?"

Rewind.

What? She invited me.

What's going on?

"Can you wait outside with Leah?" Adam whispers to me. "I'll be out in a couple of minutes."

"What? I thought she wanted to talk to me." I frown at Roxie.

"No. I'm talking to Adam. He can choose if he wants to trusts you or if he thinks you'll run to daddy and tell him everything."

I'm whiplashed. What the actual fuck? This is so not okay.

I stare at Adam, expecting him to do something about this. But the motherfucker doesn't do shit.

"Is that so?" I ask him, giving him one more chance.

"Don't blame him, he works for me." Roxie stands in front of me, pretending like Adam's not even here. "Look, don't take it personal. But we do things differently here. I'm doing a favor for Adam, because your stalker got involved with his sister, and you might not like the way we deal with him when we find him. Alright? So it's better if you don't know."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle it," I say coldly, not planning to go anywhere.

"I think you should wait outside," Adam says. Each word awkward and unnatural. The guilt in his eyes give him away. He knows I deserve better. He just won't do anything about it.

"So I can trust you, but you can't trust me back?" I raise a disappointed eyebrow. Adam continues to stare, making me scoff.

He shuts the door as I step out with Leah, while I am still trying to process what just happened in there. I feel deceived.

He doesn't trust me? Or he won't show that he trusts me, just to make others more comfortable?

I scoff again, chiding myself for expecting anything else.

"For what it's worth, they didn't tell me either." Leah comforts, her voice too unbothered.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"If you're old enough to buy a house and be a mother, I'm pretty fucking sure you're old enough to know who's threatening you. Don't you think?" I roll my eyes, passing her to get a drink.

"O-okay, I don't, I mean, you're right..." She trails off as I pour a generous amount of tequila into a red cup. As I chug the burning alcohol into my system, Leah awkwardly lingers in the kitchen. "Well, I'll be nearby if you need anything. I feel like you want to be alone."

I get a moment of quiet, though the background is active with chatters. I look around at laughing friends and siblings, cousins, and colleagues. They're all dressed the same way. Act the same way. I stick out like a sore thumb.

"Excuse me? Miss?" A thick-voiced, heavy man grounds his boots in front of me. "You are literally the most beautiful woman I've ever seen my whole life." He emphasizes with pinched fingers, motioning at me head-to-toe. "I don't know who you are, but you are too gorgeous."

"Okay..." I laugh. "That's not excessive..."

"I'm serious. I saw you're alone, so I had to come talk to you. I'm Ed."

"Selena. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the—"

"Selena? You're Adam's client?"

"Unfortunately."

"Oh, shi—"He takes a step back. "Okay, scratch everything I said. I'm just Ed. Alright? Just Ed."

"Sure?" Why would he be so afraid of him?

"If you need anything, just let me know." He flashes a sweaty smile before bolting away, hushing to his friends who throw secret glances at me from across the living room.

So Adam's the big, scary guy around here, huh?
That explains the inflated ego and entitlement. He thinks I'm going to obey him like the rest of these people?

I stalk towards Ed who's straightening a line of cocaine with a credit card. He's with a small group of men and women, with cards, guns, and ashtrays littering the table.

They lift their eyes at me as I stand before them. I hug myself as if I'm cold, intentionally squeezing my chest for Ed.

"Is it okay if I have some?" I smile behind my fingers like a little Miss charming.

"O-of course!" He scrambles out of his chair and dramatically offers it.

I take a seat, quickly acknowledging the doubtful faces around the table. I stare at the white drug on the metal tray.

It's just powdered sugar. It's just powered sugar.

I'll be fine. It's just this one time. If everyone else is doing it, it should be okay, right? I'm not a snowflake. I got this. One time won't kill me.

"Is this a good amount for a beginner?" I ask to make sure, receiving affirmative nods. "So I just plug one nostril and sniff it all in one drag?" More nods.

Alright.

I brace myself for the inevitable, pressing one finger on the side of my nose.

Here we go. I close my eyes and—

The women in front of me gasp as I'm about to snort. I open my eyes and see Adam's blurry fist swinging on Ed's jaw, knocking him down. He drops unconscious, his limp head rolling to one side. Blood pools beneath his blank face.

"Settle down, it's fine!" The man who was sitting next to Ed calms the alarmed crowd.

Everything's happening too fast. Adam's nostrils are flaring as he slices me with a glare, an animalistic kind of rage pouring out of him.

"Did you snort it?"

"Not yet." I cross my arms, refusing to back away from his looming proximity.

Adam curses under his breath and throws the cocaine tray across the room, then grabs me by my upper arm and takes me outside. Instead of going towards the pool or the first house, he whirls me around the building and shoves me against the wall in the back.

"Why would you do that?"

I'm done playing nice. I've given him so many chances. I don't give a fuck if he's ten years older than me. If he's my bodyguard. If he's been to prison. Yeah, I've been sheltered and privileged to never worry about money, but it doesn't give people the right to treat me like trash.

"Why is it any of your business?" I feign ignorance.

"It's not safe. Are you a fucking idiot?"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." I smack my hand on his chest, attempting to push him back. "The only idiot I see here is you!"

"What the hell is your problem? Why? Why would you take drugs from someone you don't know. Huh? You think that's smart, Selena?"

"No, it's not. But you know what, Adam? It's my choice. Not yours." I tip my head with sarcastic fascination. "In case you're not fully aware, you have no control over me. None. Zero. You have no control over my actions, my opinions, or my principles!" I step closer, lifting my head to glare him in the eyes. "Understand? Disrespect me again and it'll be the last time you're around me."

He darts his burning gaze back and forth, chest heaving up and down. I'm also breathing hard, this furious tension is pushing my limits.

"What is it that you want?" He asks.

"I want what I'm owed. The truth. Why did Roxie call me here? What did she have to tell you?"

Adam chuckles, staring at the wall above my head. "Alright, princess. You want to know the truth?" His mocking eyes pin me in the dark. "Your precious fiancé never got a job offer in Germany. He lied to you. He's going there to be with another woman."

The news hit me like a ton of bricks, halting every stream of thought.

"Personally, I doubt he's ever touched a pussy to even know what it is." He leans closer like a cruel serpent. "I think dear Marc chewed off more than he could bite and made someone really angry, and now wants to distract them with this wedding before he disappears."

I lean my spine against the cold wall for support. "But he asked me to go with him."

"Change of plans. Now he wants to abandon you at the alter."

I glare at Adam's crass humor, mentally moving my broken engagement pity-party for later when I'm alone. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential. Roxie's my boss; she doesn't trust easily."

"I don't give a fuck if Roxie is reincarnated Jesus. If Leah doesn't want to be involved, that's fine. But I do. I will not play a passive character in my own life. You can either respect that or we say goodbye right now and go our separate ways."

Our eyes lock on each other, battling for dominance, but I'd rather die than let this go.

"Follow me," he murmurs, and then he's gone, storming back where we came from.

We barge back in, where Roxie's sitting by the poker table, holding her forehead. Swollen Ed is getting help from another man, who is pressing a blood-stained towel on his busted face.

I can respect a business woman with trust issues. Trust is something that you earn. But I'm not happy with the blatant lack of opportunity to do so, all because of a stereotypical judgement.

"I want to prove myself," I address Roxie.

"What do you think this is? A singing competition?" Roxie says, causing chuckles around the watching crowd.

I mirror her relaxed amusement. "No, I'd say based on you, it's a low-class comedy show."

The crowd simmers down.

Roxie keeps her poker face on, but I catch her subtle, intrigued gaze fall over me before it settles back into a smirk.

"Can you handle pain?"

"Roxie." Adam warns her.

"I assume, you mean physical?" I ask.

"Doesn't have to be."

I give her an unimpressed shrug. "You can try."

"Enough," Adam's tone hardens to stone. "No one's hurting anyone."

"You're one to talk," I snap at the same time Roxie says, 'Look who's talking, hypocrite.'

"You ever wanted a tattoo?" Roxie stands up.

"Really? You think that's the worst I can handle?"

"Alright." Her smile widens. "If you get a tattoo right here, right now, I'll take you seriously. But it can't be a dot. It can't be a tiny flower—"

"I know what I want."

"Then sit down."

As soon as she orders it, someone grabs my shoulders and shoves me on a chair I didn't know was already planted right behind me. I let out an embarrassing yelp, not expecting it at all.

"Move." Adam clicks his tongue at the bulky man holding me captive and takes his place, standing behind me like my own protective wall.

A man with a long, theatrical mustache rolls a chair in and sits down while two younger men set up his tools on a splintered side table.

He puts on black latex gloves. "Alright. Where do you want it, sweetheart?"

"She's not your sweetheart," Adam warns with bone-chilling politeness.

Instead of answering, I grab the bottom of my dress and gather the pink chiffon, revealing my left leg. The cold air and everyone's attention stiffen my muscles.

"Right here." I trace a line across my upper thigh. Only a couple of inches below my hip. "I want it to say 'Aut inveniam viam aut faciam.'"

"What does that mean?" Adam asks. I can tell from Roxie's face that she's curious as well.

I let a vague smirk on my face. "It means...'I will either find a way or make one.'"

A/N
Well, well, well...would you look at sweet, innocent Selena? Not so innocent now, is she...

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