AALIA BHADURI
Stepping into Rockefeller Residence, a certain awe filled her. Aalia surveyed the room from head to toe like a competitor in the fight for Blue Royalty. Above her, a crystal chandelier illuminated the large expanse of room with its presence, twinkling luminously up above, with the occasional wink at her for good luck.
“I’m disappointed that you don’t know me well enough to know that I change my password every 24 hours—you know I don’t take security lightly."
The atmosphere of the party was invigorating, the music, the people, the crowds. It was like, with every breath, she could feel her heart flutter a little faster in time to the beat. A sigh. She shook her head, before sending a playful shove Daniel’s way, enough to send him stumbling. “You’re a nerd. I know that much.”
He was good. She had to give him that.
“Though, Aalia, I suggest you give me my phone back, or I’ll just as easily hack into your text messages and disqualify you.”
“Faux threats. Cute,” Aalia laughed. “How do I argue with that? You’re practically a mommy’s boy, Parker,” she teased. His mother was head of CIA; threatening him with a tip-off to the FBI, or something along those lines, was pointless—and Daniel knew it. Eyeing the outstretched hand, Aalia smiled. “Nah. I’ll keep hold of it for now." Seeing that smug look on his face, it’d made her reconsider granting him his victory so easily. She followed him to the bar.
“I’ll take a beer and for the lady, she’ll have a martini on the rocks, shaken not stirred.”
“The lady,” Aalia laughed, half-mockingly. He handed her the martini. She raised her brows. “Impressive. Even I don’t know your favourite drink—but you know me, I’m one self-conceited b*tch,” she replied, with a coarse laugh. A martini glass was raised, light reflecting off its surface. It glittered lustrously in the light, casting a pale streak on the dorsal of her hand. She set it down. It was the eve of senior year, and the beginning of something beautiful: a competition like no other. There was a certain beauty in this calm before the storm; Strauss’ Stille vor dem Sturm, before the molto crescendo and the inevitability of betrayal wreaked its ugly havoc: friends, family, and lovers, all fair game. A moment like this needed to be commemorated. A moment of calm, before storm.
“You ready?”
“Well, actually, the lady objects–” Aalia waved a hand over at the female working the bar, "–Bartender, I’m going to need two of your finest champagnes.” She swiped Daniel’s beer. The malty and sweet taste dissolved on her tongue. After one sip, she set it aside to accompany her discarded martini. It was only when the two Dom Pérignons were present that Aalia answered his question. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Here’s to Blue Royalty, and to senior year,” Aalia raised a bottle.
In the midst of it, the dark pools of her eyes gravitated towards two individuals: a girl and a guy, by the other end of the bar. Specifically, something on the seat beside the girl. It was close enough to the direction of the patio doors, leading to the pool, that Daniel could’ve mistaken it as Aalia yearning for a swim. Although he wouldn’t be wrong: Aalia was hoping to, at some point tonight.
Clink-clink.
do you wanna make them swim in the pool?
