Author's note: Hey, so I saw a post somewhere which inspired me to write this. It's not the best writing, or plot, I make up parts as I go. This is one of my only stories that isn't fanfiction, and it would be nice for someone to read it. Chapters will vary in length. Hope someone enjoys. 

Of course, I woke up late. Just my luck. My clock seemed to have stopped working, so I went downstairs to check that clock. 

“Morning, Princess!” said Daddy. “You had better get ready, the ball starts in an hour!” I gasped, and looked at the clock. Sure enough, it was 10 o’clock. The ball started at 11. I rushed back to my room, and grabbed my brush. I yanked it through my long and annoying hair. Who even has waist length hair? What a pain. I want to cut it, but Mother and Daddy insist that longer hair is prettier. Brushing my hair takes a lot of time, and even then my hair is frizzy as heck. Oh well, I decided it would have to do. I opened my closet door, revealing my huge closet with a big selection of clothes. Yeah, okay. We’re rich. But it’s not all fun and games. I’m homeschooled, I have teachers come to my house to give me private lessons. I rarely see people who are my age that have the possibility to be a friend. I don’t mind not having friends, I have lots of things to keep me busy. It would still be nice to socialize more often. But this was my chance. I picked out a white dress, it was flowy and soft and gorgeous. Then my stylist Sofia came in and helped me with my make up, and helped me pick out some accessories. I looked in the mirror and sighed. I looked like the epitome of a fairytale princess. Long, wavy blonde hair, light colored clothes, pimple free skin. But it was all a cover-up. My hair had taken a lot of de-frizz spray, I would have chosen a black dress if I could have, and my pimples were there— they were just covered in pounds of concealer. But I looked the part, and that was all that mattered. 

“Jennella, dear!” called Mother. I walked over to her.

“Yeah, what?” I asked.

She smiled her perfect presentable smile at me. “The guests will be arriving soon, I thought I would let you know.” 

I mumbled an okay, then went back to my room for one final touch up. I looked okay. I went back to the ballroom, where the guests had started arriving. The music was nice, and everything was colorful and pretty. There were people my age, but I didn’t know any of them. Instead of socializing or dancing, I lingered near the snack table, nibbling at crackers and sipping punch.

Already half an hour had passed, and nothing had happened. The party would continue until everyone decided to leave, so I still had time. But the crackers were tasting boring, and I had eaten enough cookies to make me sick. I sipped the punch as I eyed the crowd. Wasn’t there anyone I could dance with? Male or female, I would take either, as long as they were attractive. I doubted my parents would accept me dancing with a girl, though. Well, good thing I liked boys too. But at the moment it didn’t matter, because no one was asking me to dance. I sighed loudly, hoping to attract some attention. I guess it worked.

Someone bumped into me, hard enough to displace my punch. Now my pristine white dress was splashed with red. How charming. I looked to see who the offender was. A guy looked up at me and winced. 

“S-sorry. You’re the host’s daughter aren’t you? Jennetta or something? I didn’t mean to mess with you, sorry.” He bit his lip, looking at the mess he had made.

“Jennella, actually. Just call me Jenn. And, you know, whatever. I wasn’t too fond of this dress anyway,” I said.

“Maybe I could make it up to you,” he said, “with a dance?” I glanced at the guy. He had dark skin, poofy hair, and a gap-toothed grin. “Okay, you don’t want to, whatever,” he said, then walked back into the crowd. I hadn’t said that, I just got a little lost, I guess. I had wanted to dance with him though. He seemed like a nice guy.

Later in the afternoon, I noticed how he attracted so much attention. I had been paying to much attention to his cute grin earlier to notice his suit. It was neon yellow, and now it was flashing rainbow colors from little bulbs all over it. Girls and guys alike were crowded around him. I pushed my way through the surrounding crowd. I finally pushed my way until I was closer to him. 

“You know what? I would love to dance with you!” I said. 

He smiled and walked over to me. “Awesome. My name is Khari, by the way.” 

Dancing with Khari was awesome. He knew how to dance, and not in a traditional way. He didn’t waltz. His dancing was more… modern. And it was amazing. We danced and chatted and had so much fun. He was a really great guy. We stopped now and then to get something to drink, and he told me all about this video game he was obsessed with, and a video game he was making. And I told him about my wishes to cut my hair short, and my wishes to go out and be a normal girl— not a rich, prissy one. As we danced away, it got later and later. Before we knew it, the clock was striking midnight. 

“Oh, crap! I gotta go!” he said, and started running away. I ran after him.

“Khari, wait!” I yelled, but he was too fast for me. As he was leaving, he dropped something. I dropped to my knees to see what it was. It was a little notebook. I opened it, and saw that he had written ideas for future video games and stuff. I slipped it into my purse. Now I had to find him, to return it. 

The next day, I turned on my laptop. I looked up the name Khari, but I didn’t know his last name, so that didn’t help much. There were a few people named Khari. I told my parents that I had to give Khari his mini notebook, and they sent some people to check the houses. None met the description I had given. That was weird… He had said his name was Khari… had he lied to me? I decided the only way to find him was to look to see who had the same handwriting. Mother and Daddy sent some servants out to see who had the same handwriting. I said that I could just go, because I knew how Khari looked, but they thought it was too dangerous. Finally we got a call saying that they found a match. Mother and Daddy accompanied me to the house, and there he was. 

“Khari! What the heck happened?”

“Well,” he started.

“My name isn’t Khari. Well, Khari was my birth name. I was born in Africa, but my parents gave me up for adoption. The people that adopted me changed my name to Evan. I have two brothers, and the parents. They are all mean to me, they make me work as a servant. They even call me Cinder-Evan. I bargained with them until they allowed me to go to the party, but they said I had to come back at midnight or else…. Well, some bad things would happen. I won’t worry you with the details. That’s the story. Thanks for giving me my notebook back.”

“Actually, Khari… There is another reason why I wanted to find you. I…” I trailed off there, unsure of what to say. I hadn’t known him long enough to say I loved him, or to kiss him or anything, but I did have romantic feelings for him. “I… like you. As a friend… Or possibly more. And I— Well, I just had to see you again!” 

He looked at me in obvious surprise. I guess he hadn’t thought about me like that… 

I want to say we had a happy ending. I want to say we got married and lived happily ever after… But, well— that’s just not true.