Six
1277 Words
Serenya's POV
Kaelen will be there, and surely, Celestine will, too.
This isn’t about just the ring anymore. It’s about truth; this is about my revenge.
I look at myself in the mirror and I see my dull sweater, messy hair, and the shadows under my eyes. If I walk in like this, they’ll never see me. I need to become someone they can’t ignore.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text. Minutes later, Mira, one of my closest friends, knocks on the door.
When she sees the dress and the matching mask I’ve laid out, her eyebrows shoot up. “Girl! I didn’t know you owned a dress like this.” She presses it against me with a grin. “Serenya, you’ve been holding out on us. Like big time.”
I don’t smile and just sit down. She sighs and sets to work on my makeup.
When Mira finishes, she steps back with her hands on her hips, giving me a slow once-over. “Girl, you don’t even look like you! You look… dangerous.”
Suddenly, a horn sounds outside, muffled through the window. The van. My bandmates are here.
Mira presses my bag into my hands before I can reach for it. “Go knock them flat,” she says, tugging me toward the door.
We step out together. The van door slides open, laughter spilling out from inside. But the sound dies the moment they see me.
Their eyes widen, surprise breaking across every face.
“Holy s**t,” one of them blurts. “Serenya... damn. Who even are you right now?”
I stand still, but a blush creeps on my face.
Then Darian steps out. For a moment, he just stares. His gaze runs over me before he shakes his head as if to clear it.
“You…” His voice catches. He tries again, quieter. “You look… stunning.”
The others laugh. “Stunning? That’s all you got?” But he doesn’t look away from me.
“But you don’t have to do this, Serenya. You don’t have to go overboard just because the most powerful as$holes in the city are asking us to perform. Just play like you always do.”
I meet his eyes. Slowly, I raise my hands and sign, It's alright, Darian. I got this. Don't you trust me? I raise my eyebrows playfully.
He exhales, and laughs a little. "Okay, okay. If you say so."
The jokes keep coming as we climb into the van. “She’s gonna break necks tonight.” “Yeah, she may even catch the Governor's eyes.”
I ignore them. Darian stays quiet too, his gaze flicking toward me again and again. Not joking. Not smiling. Just… watching.
On the ride, I press my hand against the spot where my ring used to be.
The car stops in front of the gala hall. Lights spill out onto the street, guests moving like glittering currents. My bandmates joke as they pile out, but I move more slowly, my mask already in place.
"Are you really gonna wear that?" Darian asks.
Yes, for my solo performance.
"Why?" he smiles.
I shrug. Just coz. Mystery, you know?
"Okay, if you insist, Miss Mysterious," he says as we enter the hall.
Inside, everything is extravagant, but I don’t care about any of it. My eyes immediately sweep the room, looking for Kaelen and his fiancee.
“Big night, huh?” our drummer mutters beside me. I smile and nod back.
Then out of the corner of my eye, I find him. Across the hall, Kaelen sits at a long table near the stage. He leans back in his chair calmly. And of course, next to him is his fiancée, Celestine. Her hand rests casually on the table, and the light catches on the ring.
My ring.
The sight tightens my chest, but I don’t flinch. Tonight isn’t for the crowd. It’s for me.
“Serenya,” Darian’s voice pulls at me. He notices where I’m looking. “Of course, he's here. Are you sure you'll be okay after what he did last time?”
I raise my hand, signing small and quick: I will be okay, Dar. Don't worry.
Then the organizer came. He pulls us backstage and guides us down a narrow hall.
.
Darian stands close. His voice lowers. “Are you ready?”
I glance at him, then lift two fingers in a sharp sign. Yes. Then, I put the mask on.
After a minute, the announcer takes the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our guest pianist—Black Serenity!”
My bandmates pat my shoulders as I pass. The stage lights blind for a second as I step out. The room quiets, the kind of silence that cuts.
I exhale. You got this, Serenya.
I feel the weight of their eyes, but I only search for his. Kaelen looks up. His brows draw together like he’s seen a ghost. Celestine leans in, whispering something into his ear.
I cross the stage to the piano and lower myself onto the bench. My hands hover over the keys as I draw in a steady breath to begin.
Then, I press the first note of my piece.
The song I played on the day my father was killed.
~ o 0 o ~
Applause erupts after my performance. It washes over me like static. I don’t bow, and don’t smile either. I only lift my head and find him.
Kaelen.
He’s on his feet before most. His gaze never left me through the whole piece, like I had him pinned to his chair. Now he claps slower, almost dazed. Celestine tugs at his arm, trying to draw his attention back to her, but he doesn’t look away.
That’s enough, I think, If I get Kaelen's attention, I will surely get Celestine's, too.
I rise from the bench and leave the stage.
My bandmates erupt as soon as I step inside. Mira throws her arms up. “You just burned that piano alive!” One of the guitarists whistles low. “You ate that piece! I have never heard you play that one before, Serenya!”
I give them a small nod, fingers flicking a quick thank you in sign.
Then Darian’s voice cuts through. “Serenya.” He doesn’t say more, just studies me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Wow, Seri. That was incredible.”
Before he can say more, someone else pipes up, “There’s an afterparty. We should go! Everyone’ll be there. It's a good chance to mingle and find single ladies!”
Mira pouts, but then laughs. “And free drinks. You’re coming, right?”
Excitement builds up within me. I haven’t finished what I came here for: the ring, Celestine, and the questions still tangled around my father’s death. That means I can’t disappear yet.
So I agree.
My bandmates cheer, already swept up in the afterparty energy. I cheer with them as I keep my thoughts hidden. Darian hovers closer than the others, but even he relaxes when the room fills and attention scatters.
That’s when I slip away.
The bar sits at the edge of the hall. I take the corner stool and rest my hands flat on the counter. I point to the bartender the Martini on the menu, and he gives me the drink.
I take a sip. Will Kaelen come?
Then, after several minutes, a hand lands on my shoulder.
Slowly, I turn around.
As if a gift from the Goddess, Kaelen stands there, and I can see the storm brewing in his eyes.
- Writer
