Chapter Ten
1095 Words
Eighteen looked effortless on Brianna Kim.
She stood before the mirror in her Vancouver apartment, smoothing down the sleek black dress she’d chosen. It wasn’t flashy, it didn’t need to be. Her phone was buzzing with messages: birthday greetings, social posts, half-hearted “miss you’s” from people who never really did.
She smiled faintly, adjusting her lipstick.
Downstairs, her parents were waiting, they had flown all the way from Vigan that morning to surprise her.
They insisted on taking her out for brunch, and though she rolled her eyes, she went. There was something comforting about the ritual, her father’s steady presence, her mother’s easy laughter, the faint scent of her mother’s perfume that always reminded her of home.
The restaurant overlooked the bay, quiet and sunlit.
Her father, Luke, looked relaxed for once. He’d traded his usual suit for a light sweater, though he still carried himself like a man perpetually in negotiation. Laurel, ever graceful, reached across the table, brushing her daughter’s hair from her face.
“You’ve grown up so fast,” she said softly. “Eighteen already. Your grandmother would have spoiled you endlessly if she were here.”
“She still does,” Brianna said. “She wired me money this morning with strict instructions to spend it irresponsibly.”
Luke chuckled. “You’re our daughter, all right.”
They talked about school next, the University of British Columbia, her first year in Commerce.
“So,” her father said, eyes glinting. “How’s university treating you?”
“It’s fine,” Brianna said, swirling her drink. “Busy. Numbers, projects, pretending to care about case studies. The usual.”
Laurel gave her a knowing smile. “Still top of your class, I’m sure.”
“Mostly,” Brianna said. “But I’m learning to fake humility. It helps people like me.”
Her parents exchanged a look somewhere between amusement and concern.
“You don’t have to be so guarded all the time,” Laurel said gently. “You can enjoy things too, you know. You’re allowed to be young.”
Brianna’s lips curved. “I’ll try to remember that tonight.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
She hesitated for effect. “I’m going out with Toby and Chloe. They’re taking me to a bar.”
Laurel’s brows rose. “A bar?”
“I’m legal now,” Brianna said, grinning. “Don’t worry, I won’t get arrested. Probably.”
Luke sighed. “You were born negotiating boundaries.”
“Someone had to keep things interesting,” Brianna said sweetly.
They laughed together, the sound light, genuine. It almost felt normal.
The bar Toby and Chloe dragged her to that evening was all dim lights and neon reflections, packed but not chaotic. Music pulsed through the room, the air thick with perfume and possibility.
“Okay, Miss UBC,” Toby said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Tonight you’re not allowed to analyze anything. Just drink, dance, and stop judging everyone.”
“I don’t judge,” Brianna said, scanning the room. “I observe.”
Chloe, already halfway through a cocktail, grinned. “You observe like a sniper, babe. You need to loosen up. This is your debut into adulthood!”
“I think I did that when I filed my first tax return,” Brianna said dryly.
Toby rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible. Do you ever just let things happen?”
Brianna arched a brow. “Things happen to people who don’t plan. I plan.”
Chloe nudged her playfully. “Well, plan this, you’re drinking that.”
She shoved a cocktail into Brianna’s hand. Brianna eyed it suspiciously, then took a cautious sip. “That’s dangerously good.”
“See? You can live a little,” Chloe said, raising her glass. “To Brianna. The most terrifying eighteen-year-old I’ve ever met.”
“Cheers to that,” Toby said. “And to her finally having a social life.”
Brianna clinked her glass lazily against theirs. “Don’t get used to it.”
They laughed and pulled her to the dance floor. The music vibrated through her chest, and for a moment, she allowed herself to move, not carelessly, but freely enough to pass as normal.
Then, by the bar, she caught a man watching her.
He smiled, confident, interested, the kind of smile that came with easy privilege. When she didn’t look away, he took it as an invitation.
A few minutes later, he was beside her.
“Birthday girl?” he asked.
“Guilty,” she said.
“I’m Michael.”
“Bri.”
He bought her a drink, made her laugh, or something close to it. He was charming in a predictable way. She liked predictable. It meant control.
When he leaned closer, his cologne caught in her throat, familiar and clean.
“Happy birthday,” he murmured, just before he kissed her.
It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good. It was… empty.
Because as soon as his lips touched hers, another face slipped into her mind.
Dark eyes. Calm voice.A man she’d never truly met but somehow couldn’t forget.
Jordan Saavedra.
Her heart clenched, sharp and confusing, and she froze.
Michael pulled back slightly, surprised. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… not in the mood for fireworks.”
He nodded, awkward but polite, and stepped away.
Brianna exhaled, steady but cold. Toby noticed her from across the room, weaving through the crowd with Chloe in tow.
“Hey,” Toby said. “What happened? You ditched your drink.”
“Changed my mind,” Brianna said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Chloe tilted her head. “He was cute, though. Not your type?”
“I don’t have a type,” Brianna said flatly. “People bore easily.”
Toby grinned. “You really are the least romantic person alive.”
“I’m realistic,” she said.
Chloe nudged her shoulder. “Realistic’s overrated. You should let someone actually care about you one day.”
Brianna smirked faintly. “Someone would have to deserve it first.”
They laughed, but she didn’t.
Her mind was still somewhere else, on a man standing in golden light, his voice steady, his gaze sure.
Jordan.
She’d built him up in her mind, the voice, the conviction, the stillness. He wasn’t hers. He didn’t even know her name. But it didn’t matter.
Because wanting him had become part of who she was.
And Brianna Kim always got what she wanted.
- Writer
