Against All Odds, I Want Daddy!

“They’re waiting for you downstairs, Miss.” The maid’s soft voice drifted through the enormous bedroom for the second time. Elysia didn’t look away from the floor-length mirror. Her fingers moved slowly over the last pearl button of the cream blouse, then smoothed the already perfect skirt. Every strand of her dark hair rested exactly where it should. Twenty-two years of practice lived in that stillness. She forced the corners of her mouth upward before turning. “I’m coming.” The moment she stepped into the dining hall, she changed her movement and forced a smile. At the table's head sat her father, with a newspaper folded with military precision. Beside him, her mother held a teacup that never seemed to empty. Across from them lounged her stepsister, already finished with dinner with phone in her hand, looking bored with the entire world. Her father lowered the paper. “You’re two minutes late.” Elysia kept her eyes on the polished floor. “I’m sorry, Father.” “Sorry does not correct poor discipline.” His voice stayed quiet, which somehow made it colder. “Sit.” She sat. The chair felt too large. He waited until the servants had retreated. “Tomorrow night you will attend the Moretti Charity Gala with us. You will be ready at seven. Not seven-oh-one or else there'll be some consequences that you won't find amusing. Seven.” Elysia’s fingers tightened in her lap. “Father… I was hoping…” “You were hoping?” The newspaper made a sharp sound as he set it down. “You do not hope, Elysia. You obey. You will also be introduced to the man I have chosen for you, your betrothed. He comes from an excellent family. The arrangement benefits both of us.” The word betrothed landed like a stone in her chest. Her mother reached across the table and touched her hand, the gesture soft, almost apologetic. “He’s only protecting you, sweetheart. This is how it has to be.” Protecting. Always protecting. Protected from friends who might talk too freely. Protected from parties that might be photographed. Protected from any choice that could stain the family name. Protected until the cage itself became the only sky she knew. Her stepsister, Liana, finally looked up from her phone and smiled the small, sharp smile she reserved for moments like this. “Don’t look so tragic, Ellie. Some of us would kill for a rich husband handed to us on a silver platter. Then again, some of us don’t need to be handed anything.” She stood, stretching like a cat. “I’m going out tonight. Don’t wait for me all night.” No one stopped her. No one ever did. Elysia stayed silent through the rest of the meal. She answered when spoken to. She smiled when expected. She did not taste the food. Hours later the mansion settled into its usual heavy quiet. One by one the lights went out, footsteps faded and almost all doors closed. Elysia sat on the edge of her bed in the dark, elbows on her knees, staring at nothing. The tears she had swallowed all evening finally pressed against the backs of her eyes. She pressed the heels of her hands against them until the urge passed, then reached into the drawer of her nightstand. The small, worn book of poems was still there. She opened it to the page she knew by heart. “When the clock struck twelve the girl in ashes met the fairy prince who saw her true self, and for one night the world was hers alone… Oh Cinderella, he cried after she had left.” She read the lines twice, three times, until the tightness in her throat loosened just enough to breathe. Then she closed the book and stood. 11:47 p.m. She moved quickly now so as not to miss the appointed time. She brought out the hidden drawer beneath her wardrobe no one but her knew about. Then out of it she brought out a black heel, a shimmering silver dress that caught every light and sparkled. She wore a long satin gloves and her regular mask that had a name inscribed on it, Eclipse. The name fit better than her own ever had. She slipped through the quiet halls, past her parents’ closed door, past Liana’s empty room. The old garden gate lifted without a sound. The night air tasted like freedom. Twenty minutes later the underground club took her in. Bass rolled through the walls like a second heartbeat. Colored lights cut across velvet and shadow. The regulars already packed the floor, waiting. One of the officials, Luka found her in the back corridor, eyes bright with something close to nerves. “Eclipse. There’s a powerful man in town. Word is he’s here tonight. They’ll double your pay if you give them something unforgettable.” She tilted her head, the mask hiding the slow curve of her mouth. “I don’t need your trash money,” she said, voice low and steady. “I just want to do what I came to do… and get the f**k out of here.” He didn’t argue. No one ever did when she spoke like that. The stage waited for her to come in. The announcer’s voice rolled through the dark. “Ladies and gentlemen… you’ve waited all week. The queen of the night is finally here.” Lights died. Three. Two. One. A single spotlight flared, gasps rose like smoke. Elysia stood perfectly still in the center of the light, her silver dress clinging to every curve showing the gifted asset of both her ass and boobs that her parents had tried so hard to hide. Her mask was hiding everything except the sharp line of her mouth and the quiet fire in her eyes. Confidence radiated from her like heat. Nobody knew her real name. Nobody knew the golden cage she returned to every dawn. They only knew the woman on the stage. Eclipse. The music exploded and she began moving, not like someone performing for money or applause. She was moving like someone who had been holding her breath for years and had finally been allowed to exhale. This wasn't a job for her, it was passion. The crowd disappeared. The chanting of her stage name became distant weather. For those few minutes there was no father, no betrothed waiting tomorrow night, no stepsister who walked free while she stayed locked in perfection. There was only music. When the final note faded, the applause hit like a physical force. She bowed once, graceful, and then vanished backstage before anyone could reach her. They were still chanting when she slipped out the side door into the cool night. “Eclipse. Eclipse. Eclipse.” She smiled to herself, and started the long walk home. Another perfect night stolen from the life that did not belong to her. The applause still roared behind the heavy black curtain when Luka’s voice cut through the noise. “Eclipse…. wait.” She didn’t stop walking. The silver dress whispered against her thighs as she moved toward the side exit, already tasting the night air and the quiet streets that would take her home. He caught up, slightly out of breath. “I know you don’t need the money,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But there’s a man out there who promised thirty thousand dollars if he can meet you backstage. Just five minutes. Please do this for us.” Elysia slowed. Under the mask her mouth tightened. She had refused private meetings for the entire one year she has been coming here anonymously. Every time someone with money or power tried to pull her into a room, she walked away. The stage was hers. The rest of the night belonged to no one. Still, Luka’s voice carried that rare edge of desperation she almost never heard from him. She muttered under her breath, the words sharp and tired. “I used to say no to every single one of them. Every rich bastard who thought a few bills bought the right to look under the mask.” She exhaled hard. “Fine. Five minutes. Then I’m gone.” Luka’s shoulders loosened with relief. He guided her deeper into the backstage corridor, past racks of costumes and the low thrum of the continuing music. A man waited near the dressing room door. Elysia glanced at Luka. “Is that him?” The man smiled, all teeth and no warmth. “My boss would like to see you privately.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thick fold of bills, a few hundred dollars at most and tossed it toward her. The money fluttered and landed near her heels. “He'll double that the moment you show up.” Behind her, Luka cursed under his breath, soft and vicious. He already knew what had just been woken. Elysia stared down at the scattered notes for a long second. Then she reached into the small black clutch she carried only on these nights. Three neat bundles of hundred dollar bills appeared in her gloved hand, money she had earned and never spent, which she kept only for moments exactly like this. She picked up the thrown cash with two fingers, added it to her own, and hurled the entire stack straight into the man’s chest. “Tell your lousy, cowardly, bastard boss to feed his dog with this,” she said, voice cold and clear. “Useless animal.” The bills exploded against his shirt and rained onto the floor. She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned on her heel and walked out the side door into the cool night, silver dress flashing once under the streetlight before the darkness took her. She had no idea that across the city a private jet had just touched down. Inside it sat a man who never accepted the word no.