The Flower Arrangement

The Flower Party It was indeed a mistake on my part to say "yes" to the flower party. I knew what they were, but in a sleepy state, I said yes. My mother called me in the middle of the night. I remember some sophisticated, smooth jazz background music pumping loudly and people laughing. She had to escape to speak to me, which meant she was at a party with my father. In a quiet area, she said, "Evelyn, I want you to go to this special party on Friday night." In a sleepy voice, I asked, what party? The Flower Party. She yelled that in my ears. I knew what a Flower Party was, but I didn't think it really existed; a fable among the rich, you had to have a special invitation to go, and while my parents were on that list of the rich, I never expected them to really believe in that fairytale. I laughed it off, then said, "Yeah, yeah." Rolling my eyes. What I thought was nothing but a fake, a stupid lie, a silly myth was true. A couple of days later, Friday came. When I saw a bunch of people rush into my home with my mother behind them, I was bombarded with loads of strange hands all over my face for makeup, my dress getting fitted, and heels slipping on. The women got up close and personal, too close for comfort. I wore a tight red body con dress that showed my curves and straps off the shoulders. The black heels were uncomfortable, but I had to stick them through the four-hour event. Everyone wore a mask. The men wore red roses on their tuxes, and the women pink roses on their wrists. We were all gifted a black rose in a glass. I was soon terrified when she left me to wait outside. Yes, for four hours, Mom waited. I had no idea what was happening, what was expected of me, or what was coming. They handed me a large cue card with a table number filled with information I had to answer honestly. I was going to exchange it with my red rose partner. So, how would you even find your partner? They said that your partner is pre-selected; your parents, a friend, a family member, or someone you know selects your partner, and this event ties it together. To have a mysterious date, coronation party. In the end, this was all arranged, and this was my mom's way of saying you and this strange man will be forced to be together. I was lost, confused, and terrified in the sea of people. This was not an environment that I liked, and I hated that I might have a panic attack. The tables were small mini-tables of nothing but a white tablecloth with gold trim at the end and a single red rose. In this darkly lit room, I didn't know anyone. Well, I couldn't see them correctly, not even to point out a face. After getting some champagne in my system, I left to the tables. They were all in order. I was number fourteen. My partner would have number fourteen as well. As I went to sit down, I saw a gentleman walking my way. From afar, he was relatively small, but as he grew closer and closer, my heart escalated. In heels, I was no match. He stopped in front of me as I gripped the chair. "Number fourteen?" He said. I nodded without a word. That was the last thing he told me after that interaction—the only two words for tonight. I couldn't see his face; however, under the mask, he had a defined jaw and a trimmed beard. He smelled beautiful and potent; I loved it. My heart pounded that the mysterious man in this mask was my partner. Did Mom do a good job setting me up? At that moment, I realized it was a sweet deal until I finally realized what the roses gifted to us meant. I didn't pay attention because all my nerves and jitters were at an all-time high, but the black rose meant marriage. The white rose represented casual dates, and the blue one was strictly business, a business relationship with some benefits. I was not only in the section where the couples had black roses, but I also figured out that one through sixteen was the group destined to marry. I was shocked, and my mouth lay wide open as the announcer spoke about it. We exchanged our cue cards, so he had my number. I didn't put where I lived or what I liked or disliked, but I put simple information about my physical appearance. On his card lay a name and a phone number to reach him. This guy was a closed book. And that's what started it all. I knew nothing about him. After I left, I was stunned. I couldn't even speak to my mom about what had happened, and I couldn't even yell at her. He was gone in a flash and didn't say a word. He was rude. I don't even remember what he looked like, just a name. The next six months were a blur. I was forced to move in with him. I left my beautiful apartment in the noisy city for a quiet suburban area I hated. One critical detail on that cue card I missed was that when you accepted and took the rose from the man, it was a done deal, and they knew for sure that whatever you had going on was now sealed. And I stupidly sealed my fate by taking his black rose in a glass and bringing it home with me. My mouth was wide open reading that print and seeing how now... I had two black roses. The flower party brought two unsuspected strangers together to either get married, get into a relationship or have a casual date. When your male partner hands you their rose, it's a done deal. My father finally admitted that he was tired of my poor decisions and picked Jackson Snow for me before The Flower Party. This was an excuse because they knew I wouldn't have said anything immediately with a simple talk. Ultimately, my parents forced me into a marriage I didn't know about, put me in a home with a strange man, and expected us to get married soon. Everything went by so fast, my head spun, and I passed out on the floor.