The breaking point
1991 Words
Chapter 1
The Grand Ballroom of the old hotel was a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Champagne corks popped like firecrackers, glitter drifted down from the ceiling, and the air thrummed with the collective joy of New Year's Eve. A massive LED screen counted down the final seconds of the year, bathing the dancers in a pulsing red glow.
Music blasting through the speaker, piercing her ear as New year celebration goes on its full potential. She was seated in a corner, tried her best to be invisible from the crowd with laughter. She cursed mentally, why she had to be here in the first place. This place is not meant for her. Her soft and calm demeanor started to go crazy with passing each second being there for God knows what reason. She just wanted to be alone from the chaotic celebration. If only she could, she would have been sleeping in her cozy bed by now, unfortunately it was not in her hands, so she had to accept the reality and be there for somebody's will. Her eyes tried to focus on a man who was the sole reason for her to tolerate this.
She thought, “He was there just a few minutes ago. Where did he vanish suddenly?”
A few minutes before she had spotted him in a group of people who were shaking their bodies with the music without having much sense of what's going around. Now he was nowhere to be seen.
She cursed again, “Where did this i***t go?” This time it was not for her helplessness, but him. Her eyes stumbled on the dance floor and came to be fixed on the person whom she was searching for.
She relaxed, “Thank God.” Now she could call off the night, by letting him know she was about to go home. This kind of noisy celebration gave her a headache rather than an enjoyable one.
She was about to get up and suddenly a pair of hands came from behind and made her sit back.
She screamed, “What the…” she couldn't even complete her sentence when her best friend Lucy smiled at her.
“Lucy!” She squeezed her best friend's hands gleefully. Finally she had gotten someone to begin a conversation by idly sitting for hours. At least Lucy's presence could make her feel like a person who was a part of this Eve.
“Oh! Now you remember you have a best friend named Lucy?” Her face fell for a second before retrieving her million dollar smile at her pissed off friend. “How could you ditch me on this beautiful New Year's Eve?” Lucy scoffed.
She placed a hand on her. “I apologize.” Lucy was waiting for her to continue so that she could make a benefit of it. “You have my word, Lucy. I will make it up to you for this.” She assured her.
“Well, if you are not going to take back your words, I will try to consider your apology." She flipped her hair deliberately and kept a hard face to show she was still not forgiven.
After one minute of staring section, she was about to open her mouth, “I am–”
Lucy started to laugh like a maniac just escaped from a treatment. “Look at your face.”
She rolled her eyes. “I knew it. You weren't really angry at me, that's why I made a sweet lie.”
Lucy's laughing riots stopped before it was about to go on round two. “
“AMELIA!”
“Just kidding!” Now it was her turn to laugh. “Look at your face.”
“Geez! Are you gone nuts!” Lucy slammed her hands on the table. “Stop your crazy laugh.”
Amelia grinned, “I was just following your path, your highness.” Lucy was smiling light, signalling she was lost to this game.
Amelia nodded her head in acknowledgement as if their playing around section had come to an end. “Anyways, thank you for coming.” This time she meant it.
“No mention sweetheart.” Lucy said, “That's why you call me best friend.” The girls smiled at each other.
Amelia asked, “Tell me how did you get in? It is his private party. Only his friend circle has been invited. As far as I know you are not on the list.” She was eager to know her rejoinder.
Lucy said with a mischievous smile, “I have my own way, sweetheart.”
Amelia could not help but agree to her statement. “Well, I know that you have that special talent to get into trouble. Whatever, I am just glad you are here.”
“Thank me later, honey.” Lucy was watching their surroundings, precisely to find someone. “Where is your darling fiance?”
Amelia was about to answer when Lucy cut in, “He would be delighted with my presence, right?” She shook her head to Lucy's sarcasm.
“Undoubtedly!” Amelia played along. “He would ask his bouncers to throw you out the moment his eyes fell on you.”
“NO!” Lucy screeched. “That guy really hates me, right?” Amelia's silence was her answer. “You know what, the feeling is–”
Lucy stopped mid-sentence as her eyes went wide, fixing on a point past Amelia’s shoulder. “What is it?” she asked, a sudden knot tightening in her stomach.
Lucy didn't answer immediately. Her mischievous smile was completely gone, replaced by a look of shocked anger. She slowly pointed a finger. “That’s where your darling fiancé is, Amelia.”
Amelia’s eyes landed on the dance floor where she had last seen the man who was the sole reason for her current predicament. The music seemed to fade into a dull thrum as her focus narrowed.
He was there, indeed. Her fiancé. He was swaying to the rhythm, looking completely carefree. And he was not alone.
A woman with fiery red hair and a dress that barely covered anything was plastered against him, her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands were resting casually, and quite possessively, on her waist. They were laughing, heads tilted close together, clearly sharing a private, intimate moment in the middle of the crowd.
Amelia felt a cold, sharp shock rush through her veins, a stark contrast to the stuffy heat of the room. It wasn't just a casual dance; it was an open display of affection that went beyond friendly party mingling. The easy familiarity in their movements spoke volumes.
“No,” Amelia whispered, the word barely audible over the relentless beat of the bass. Her calm demeanor shattered instantly. The headache she had felt earlier morphed into a throbbing pressure behind her eyes.
Lucy’s hand shot out, grabbing Amelia’s arm tightly. “Amelia, don't move. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Amelia ignored her. She couldn't tear her eyes away. Every instinct she had screamed for her to stand up, to storm over there and demand an explanation. The humiliation was a raw, burning sensation in her chest.
“He said he was with his friends,” Amelia muttered, her voice trembling.
“He is!” Lucy spat, her voice laced with venom. “Just look closer, Amelia! Look at the way she’s looking at him!”
The red-haired woman leaned in and whispered something in her fiancé’s ear. He threw his head back and laughed, then captured her face in his hands and pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips. It was a kiss of ownership, not a New Year’s peck.
That was the breaking point.
Amelia abruptly pulled her arm free from Lucy’s grip and stood up. All thoughts of maintaining her composure, of being invisible, vanished. The chaotic celebration suddenly felt like a perfectly still stage for her own private disaster.
“Amelia, no! Wait!” Lucy pleaded, rising quickly to try and stop her. But Amelia was already moving. Her eyes, usually soft and gentle, were blazing with a cold fury. She navigated the crowded floor with a focus that was terrifyingly calm. The path to the dance floor was a blur of flashing lights and oblivious bodies.She didn't stop until she was right next to them.
Her fiancé finally looked over, clearly sensing a presence. His face, initially flushed with party fun, instantly drained of color when he saw her. The woman in red froze, pulling back slightly but still within his arm's reach.
He quickly dropped his hands from the woman’s waist, taking a hesitant step toward Amelia.
“Amelia! Sweetheart, I—” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, but the lie caught in his throat.
Amelia raised her hand, silencing him instantly. She didn't scream or cry. Her voice was steady, dangerously low, a stark contrast to the booming music.
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t you dare try to lie to me.” She didn't look at the other woman. Her focus was entirely on the man she had been trying to endure this horrible party for.
“I came here because of you,” Amelia continued, a bitter edge in her tone. “I tolerated this noise, this crowd, everything I hate, because you asked me to. And this is why?” She gestured coolly to the red-haired woman with a sharp, flicking movement of her wrist.
The man tried to take her hand. “It’s not what it looks like, Amelia. It was just a dance, a New Year's moment, nothing more.”
“A New Year’s moment?” Amelia scoffed, a single, humorless sound. She glanced at the woman who was now looking uncomfortable and slightly hostile. “Does your definition of a ‘New Year’s moment’ include the words ‘fiancé’ and ‘betrayal’?”
She reached up, her hand closing around the diamond solitaire ring on her left finger. The ring suddenly felt heavy, suffocating. With a deliberate, measured movement, she yanked it off.
His eyes widened in panic. “Amelia, stop! Don’t do this here!”
She didn't listen. She held the expensive ring for a moment, letting the light catch its glittering face, and then she threw it. It didn't land dramatically at his feet; she threw it hard into the thickest part of the dance floor crowd, where the chance of it ever being found was next to zero.
“Consider the engagement called off, sweetheart,” Amelia said, echoing his earlier weak attempt at affection with cold disdain. She didn't wait for a response.
She turned on her heel and pushed her way back through the crowd. The deafening music was back, a roar in her ears, but now it sounded like a fitting soundtrack to her escape. She found Lucy waiting anxiously where she had left her.
“Let’s go,” Amelia said, grabbing Lucy’s hand. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion, yet her grip was iron-tight.
“Yes, absolutely. Let’s get you out of this hell hole,” Lucy agreed instantly, leading the way.
As they hurried toward the exit, Amelia risked one last look back. Her fiance standing stock-still on the edge of the dance floor, his face a mixture of shock and utter defeat. The red-haired woman was attempting to console him, but he barely registered her presence.
Amelia’s chin lifted. The chaotic celebration no longer bothered her. It was irrelevant. She had wanted to call off the night, and she finally had. But the reasons were no longer up to somebody else’s will. They were her own.
- Writer
