#Chapter 4: Birthday Party

Rowena

 

I rolled over in bed with a sigh.

 

My eyes were tired from staring at my phone screen in the dark room, but I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away from the post that my brother had made.

 

“Birthday party at the Griffith family villa, and everyone’s invited!” the post read. “This Saturday, bring one guest! (P.S. Girls can bring TWO friends.)”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I read the post over and over again. Of course, everyone was freaking out. A party at the Griffith family villa, the most powerful family in the New Moon pack? It was like a dream come true for pretty much everyone.

 

My parents were bound to be annoyed. After all, my brother had thousands of followers, and he was inviting everyone to this party. We never shared our address, and we weren’t the flashy sort of family.

 

It was probably going to be a disaster.

 

Eric himself was too flashy for his own good, in my opinion. I was never the type to post on social media; I had a private account with no profile picture, and my username was an alias. I was completely unfollowable and unsearchable in the digital world, and I preferred it that way.

 

After all, I knew that if people could find me on social media, they would destroy me. I couldn’t handle it.

 

I refreshed the post to look at the new comments, which had been steadily rolling in for the past hour since Eric had posted it. One in particular caught my eye.

 

“You do know the cheerleaders are hosting a pool party that day, right?” the comment read. “Now your sister’s birthday party is stealing our limelight.”

The comment was made by none other than Emma White; and there was one like already. I furrowed my brow and opened it, and that was when I saw it.

 

Liked by Adrian Almond.

 

With a huff, I threw my phone down on the bed. I guess Eric had been right.

 

…

 

“Just… hold still.”

 

My vision blurred as Eric tilted my chin up. My glasses, discarded on the bathroom sink, were calling for me; but it was no use. Eric had insisted on getting me to wear my contacts, which I never wore.

 

“Just hurry up,” I said. “It’s not easy holding still this long.”

 

“You’ll be fine.” Eric deftly pressed the contact into my eye. I hated the sensation of it, but I dealt with it. “Blink.”

 

I did as he said, and the contact settled into place. I could see out of one eye now, at least. But I was already fantasizing about taking these stupid things out.

 

As Eric moved to put the other contact in, I could actually see his face now rather than a featureless blob. I hated to say it, but now that I could see him up close like this, I realized just how much he had matured; his face was handsome and tanned, framed by his white blonde hair like a sun god.

 

He gave me vertigo, but I couldn’t look away. My eyelashes swept over his fingertips as I blinked again; the other contact was in now.

 

“There,” he said, looking down at me with a grin on his face. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 

I swallowed. Truthfully, it wasn’t so bad; we had enough trust between us so that the process actually went by pretty smoothly. But now we were pressed a little too close together for my comfort, and there was no reason for it.

 

“Sure,” I managed, pulling back. “Thanks.”

 

Eric chuckled and ruffled my hair. “You’re welcome. Now you don’t look so much like a nerd.”

 

I let out a soft sigh and turned to look in the mirror. I didn’t want to admit it, but Eric was right; I did look a little less nerdy now without the glasses. Maybe now Adrian would actually pay attention to me.

 

“So I’m good now?” I asked, meeting Eric’s gaze in the mirror. “The transformation is complete?”

 

“You?” Eric laughed, draping his arm around my shoulders and guiding me out of the bathroom. “Not even close.”

 

As we stepped out of the bathroom and into the bustling hallway, I was a bit taken aback. Eric had, of course, hired the best of the best to come and decorate for the party, but there were even more people here than I expected.

 

“Who are all these people?” I asked as Eric propelled me toward my bedroom, which was down the hall.

 

“They’re here to help you,” Eric said, both of his hands on my shoulders.

 

I tried to stop, but it was too late. Eric had already set both of us in motion, and he wasn’t letting me go back now. “Wait, Eric—what are you saying?” I asked.

 

“You’re in good hands, little sister,” Eric said cryptically. And with that, he opened my bedroom door and… shoved me inside.

 

I was met with the faces of several stylists. They were already bustling around my room, discussing outfits, makeup, and hair. Only one looked up when I entered.

 

“Rowena?”

 

“Yes,” I said cautiously. “Who are you?”

 

“Sit down.”

 

I did as I was told, and before I knew it, I was being surrounded by a whirlwind of hair and makeup. The stylist, whose name I didn’t learn, practically created a tornado of movement around me. He did my makeup and my hair, using his skills to smooth down my messy hair and give it some much-needed shine.

 

All I could think about the whole time was how annoyed my father was going to be. Although we were rich, he was an austere man who hated the idea of flaunting our wealth.

 

He and Eric were incredibly different in that regard. While my father was the type to wear the same suit every single day and only spend money if he needed to, Eric loved luxury; he’d flaunt our wealth whenever he could, from cars to restaurants, from designer watches and new technology.

 

While he had been gone for those three years, I think my dad actually breathed for the first time. The lines on his face almost seemed to smooth out just a little from not having to puzzle over Eric’s spending.

 

But those lines were bound to come back tenfold now.

 

Finally, the stylist stepped back with a flourish. “Perfect,” he said, turning me toward the mirror.

 

I almost gasped out loud. My messy natural hair had been combed out and curled properly with an iron, so that it had defined curls now rather than frizz. It was shiny and even smelled good, too.

 

And then there was the makeup; just a touch of foundation, a little contour in all the right places, some shimmery eyeshadow and the faintest pink lipstick.

 

I was…

 

“Pretty.”

 

I looked up to see Eric standing in the doorway—or rather, leaning. He pushed away from the door frame and sauntered over to me with his hands in his pockets, bending over to meet my gaze in the mirror.

 

He whistled.

 

“Wow,” he said, smirking at my reflection. “Adrian is such a lucky boy to have won Persephone’s heart.”

 

I didn’t respond right away. I was too out of it, not only with the rush of stylists leaving the room and leaving us in silence all of a sudden, but also by the transformation.

 

Eric was right; I did look pretty. But it wasn’t me.

 

“I don’t feel like myself,” I blurted out, still staring at my reflection.

 

Eric shot me a confused look. “You’re looking for your mate, aren’t you?” he asked. “This is how you do it.”

 

I scoffed. “Have you found your mate during the three years you were gone?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well,” I said with a laugh, “at least we’re on the same page about one thing—not being able to find a mate, regardless of how we look. I guess we are siblings, huh?”