Loving The Flame

Chapter One

The image remained etched in my mind, replaying relentlessly like a never-ending loop, haunting my very being and piercing my heart with its intensity. I made every effort to overcome my pain by shedding tears and mourning for the time I wasted with him. And when I find myself overwhelmed by despair, I give in to numbing my sorrows with a bottle of cheap wine in my modest apartment.

Liam hails from a family of immense wealth, possessing both striking looks and a penchant for daydreaming. Despite his reserved demeanour, his presence has a profound impact on those around him. He exudes a subtle charm.

It's not the first time he has ever betrayed my trust, but not like this. I was only gone for three days, and I had to come back to the apartment we were preparing to move into, only to find him in bed with my best friend Luna.

Honestly, it was just some little matters I believed I could be mindful of: neglecting our anniversary, frequently bailing on plans, and consistently leaving me behind on our outings. I believed I could mend our relationship and change his behaviour, but despite my suspicions of his infidelity, I never imagined it would be Luna who betrayed me. The two individuals in my life that I relied on betrayed me.

I am heartbroken, drinking, crying, and having to cancel my work appointments, and I am not at a point in my life with the privilege to cancel work appointments or miss a chance. I find myself in a state of disarray, with my apartment in complete chaos. Used tissues are scattered about, pizza boxes are stacking up, and ice cream containers adorn every table. Clothes are strewn about, and I spend my days and nights on the sofa, mindlessly staring at the TV screen, unable to find any understanding or enjoyment. Moreover, it has been almost a week since I immersed myself in this irrational feeling for someone who does not deserve it at all.

"Please, this isn't like you." Olivia entered my flat, her head shaking in disbelief as she surveyed the state of the place.

"Three years," I whisper softly while wrapped in my cosy blue blanket, littered by the remnants of the chips I was snacking on before she walked in.

"Three?" she questions, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she plops down on the solo sofa. "It's just a mere two years and four months, if I'm not wrong."

"It's just the same thing." I wipe my nose with my left hand, feeling a sniffle coming on.

"The point is," she says, shaking her head. "They don't appreciate you, and it's crucial that we put an end to this situation before things take a turn for the worse," she says, her lips pressed together as she gazes into my eyes. I can't help but roll my eyes in response.

“I need time; I don’t think I can do anything right." I exhale, and my phone emits a sound on the table, prompting me to shake my head in reaction.

"We're discussing your life. You can't afford to miss any more booking opportunities, and this is the perfect time to do so," Olivia suggests as she scans the surroundings.

Olive and I crossed paths in the world of modelling. We have been strong allies and closest companions ever since. She has been everything that reliable friends should be, unlike the one true friend I grew up with. Once again, my phone emits a sound, and I recline.

“Is that him or her?” Oliv asks.

“They have been blowing up my phone.”

“To say what? That they were training one another?” She jokingly suggested, and I placed the blanket over my head, hiding myself behind the darkness.

“Now, stop wasting time; we have to go,” she says, pulling the blanket off me.

“I… I…”

"No, I have something you won't want to miss," she insists, tugging on my arm, prompting me to sit up and meet her gaze. I couldn't help but notice her attire. She is wearing a stunning purple bodycon dress adorned with glitter. Her brown hair is neatly styled in a high ponytail, showcasing her flawless makeup that accentuates her cheekbones. Her legs glisten, hinting at the excitement of the long night ahead.

"Oliv," I mutter, shaking my head, a wave of unease washing over me as an unsettling idea takes hold. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not prepared."

"Okay, you have quite the imagination!" she giggles as she sits beside me. Tonight is solely focused on work. While you were asleep, there was an unusual campaign, and I had to complete the form on your behalf.

"No way," I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes.

"A way," she declares, extending her index finger. "It was quite a challenge to submit your form; I had to use some connections to make it happen."

"Ugh, do I really have to go tonight?" I ask, and her smile lights up as she looks my way, and I can't help but be amazed by the extent of her help.

"This is significant," she exclaimed, gesturing with her arms. "Being among the top four is enough," she explains. She rises from her seat and positions herself before me. "Just picture yourself as the victor." She narrows her gaze at me, and I can't help but smile, taken aback.

“It’s a competition?” I ask a bit lost and dared.

“Oh, babe, it’s a lot more than that,” she says, sucking her lips and nodding as she crosses her arms on her chest. “It’s money, and we’re talking about big money.” She removes a few items from the table and takes a seat in front of me, locking her gaze with mine. “The choice is yours: waste your tears here for no reason, or channel that energy into something productive.”

I moisten my lip and form a grin. I must immediately change the situation, or else I will lose control of it. "I'll get dressed," I said, eager to begin the night, and she let out a loud cheer of excitement.

"Remember to stand out and glitter; it's a rule for the night," she remarks as I hurriedly enter my bedroom to prepare.

***

My long, wavy, honey-blood hair cascades down my back, providing a veil of modesty against the backdrop of my golden shimmering gown that shows most of my skin and that's glimmering with the skin oil. I see that I captivate the most attention, showcasing my bronzed complexion with confidence. It's as if I'm attempting to conceal the ache of a broken heart beneath my glamorous appearance, adorned with sparkling attire, high heels, and jewellery. The bold and captivating fragrance of my perfume, along with my newfound confidence and bad girl demeanour, seem to be my chosen disguise.

Olivia's insight about standing out is spot-on, and even though I'm dressed to impress, the party seems to highlight the intense rivalry among the attendees. Every female model I knew from other stages has made an appearance here, looking so impeccably dressed that they are almost unrecognisable. I observe a multitude of affluent individuals indulging in beverages and engaging in lively conversations, seemingly unaffected by the blaring music.

"I'll be back," I told Olivia, who was engrossed in conversation with a designer we had collaborated with in the past. She gave me a brief nod, and I made my way out of the hall to the quiet corridor, grateful to escape the noise of the music. I gently massaged the back of my neck, taking a moment to relax and relieve any tension.

Can we talk? A message appeared on my phone from Liam, and I couldn't help but react with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. I immediately blocked his number and quickly turned around to reenter the hall. Regrettably, I encountered an unfamiliar individual whose hands instinctively pushed me away. His hands firmly push against my chest, causing me to catch my breath.

It happened in an instant, the force of my right hand meeting his left cheek with a resounding smack. I was completely oblivious to the presence of a stern-looking security guard dressed in all black who stood by his side. It was only when the man raised his hand to signal the guard to halt that I realised he was preventing him from coming any closer to me.

"You should have paid more attention to your surroundings," I said with frustration.

"Maybe you should exercise more caution in the future," he remarks in a gravelly voice, his elongated fingers gently rubbing his cheek. "This is a restricted area; I recommend you return to the party," he remarks, and I shake my head. Despite his luciferous black hair, there are a few rare strands of grey around his ears that give him a distinguished look. From his impeccable grey suit to his sophisticated fragrance, everything about him exudes an air of wealth and refinement. His composed demeanour and the presence of his security detail only further confirm his affluent status.

"Oh." My anger surged uncontrollably, bubbling up after being suppressed for so long. "You rich people are all alike: full of arrogance and self-centeredness." By now, my arms are gliding through the air, exuding a sense of ownership over the entire building. ”You f*****g crossed the line and expect me to feel bad about what you did wrong? Well, I have bad news for you,” I said, standing closer to him, and for some reason he is quietly looking at me as if he is studying me. “I am nothing like the females you now,” I said, and I walked past him as if I were victorious in an argument that felt like I started and ended on my own.

"I, too, am unlike the many wealthy men you know," he stated, continuing his stroll, leaving me in astonishment. I didn't bother to glance in his direction; instead, I calmly inhaled and proceeded into the hallway to meet Olivia.

She wasn't where I left her. "Alora!" I can barely make out her voice over the blaring music and bustling crowd, but I hear her calling my name. She has already relocated to a table at the front, positioned near the open space, where a sleek podium awaits its moment in the spotlight. I joined her and two additional individuals whom I had not yet had the pleasure of meeting. We shared a subtle smile as I joined them.

"I think you have the look," one of them commented, and I couldn't help but smile with joy.

“Thank you,” I said, delighted to hear the kind words that any model would cherish, especially tonight. I casually grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter.

"He has arrived," Another woman brought it to our attention, and the music abruptly stopped, and all eyes shifted towards a person who was weaving through the crowd, applauding him. I made numerous attempts to catch a glimpse, but it proved to be an insurmountable task.

"Hey, there's something I need to tell you," Olivia says, catching my attention.

"Thank you. Thank you, everyone," a sudden raspy voice captures my attention.

"Impossible," I murmur, my eyes widening and my lips involuntarily parting in astonishment.

"We're competing for his company," she murmurs, and my arm holding the champagne glass suddenly feels rigid.

"Oh no," I whisper in dismay as I realise I've ruined my opportunity to secure this job.

"There's more," she said, but to be honest, I am more taken aback by my own actions than by the news she wanted to share with me. "He happens to be Liam's father."

Out of nowhere, my arm loses its grip, and the glass slips from my hand. The sound of breaking glass causes quite a stir, with all eyes turning towards me. I can't help but stare at him, my mouth suddenly feeling parched. As our eyes meet, his smile fades, and I feel a lump in my throat.