𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞

M A D D I S O N

"This is the one," The stylist says for the third time.

"I've tried on three dresses and they've all been the one," I tell her, the words flowing in Spanish much easier now that I've been speaking to someone who isn't six years old for over an hour.

"It's your body. Perfection. Okay, one more and we'll choose from those. Though I'm still leaning towards the silver. Matches your eyes," She nods, looking me over with her hand cupping her chin like she's deep in thought. She looks at me as though she's simply choosing a pastry from a case rather than at a human being, forcing her to role-play as a dress-up doll.

The compliment goes over my head as my nerves about the night ahead get the best of me. I can't bail knowing my mother and how she would react, though I desperately want to. I would pay someone to take my place at this very moment, a body double to try on the dresses while I go back to the hospital to spend all the visiting hours with my brother.

Knowing that it'll get me out of the hell I've been enduring faster, I put up with one more dress. The silky fabric of the one I have on slips right off, caressing my skin on the way to the floor. The silver dress pools on the floor and I shiver as the cool air rushes over my mostly naked body.

The stylist removes a red dress from a hanger and I already know that it's going to be a 'no' from me with all the tulle it's got in the skirt, but I let her help me into it, knowing she has to see it to eliminate it from the lineup. Thankfully, I don't hear another version of "this is the one" and we end up back to the previous satin number that now hangs up while I get my hair and makeup done by professionals, covered in a big white robe.

A glass of champagne is given to me, but I don't touch it because I don't have anything to celebrate. I do as she says, opening and closing my eyes, parting my lips, hollowing my cheeks, and finally, she announces that I'm finished.

"Now hair," She says and I groan, leaning back in my chair.

"Give me a minute," I say and promptly stand up, making my way to the bathroom and locking the door behind me once I'm alone inside. I lean my hands on the counter and look myself in the mirror. Admittedly, she'd done a great job on the makeup, but I have at least another hour in that chair before my hair is photo-worthy.

I must take too long, breathing and calming myself down because I hear a knock on the door. Not letting the stylist become too antsy, I join her again and we're back at it, now with an undo in my hair and the dress back on my body with her help.

"Beautiful creature," She tells me and I nod as a thank you, waiting patiently for her to pack up her things and leave, though I know a driver will be here to fetch me shortly, at least I'll have a few minutes to myself. My face feels uncomfortable and like I'm wearing a mask with the layers of makeup I have on, so I don't allow myself to look in a mirror knowing that it'll only confirm how it feels.

Sure enough, a knock on the door is heard and the driver waits on the other side, offering to take my clutch for me. I struggle to walk in the heels, however short the stylist told me they were, and feel like a giant as I stand over the short Spanish driver who holds my door open for me.

Lights flash from the moment my door is opened and my leg steps out. I try not to worry about anything, knowing that everything that happens tonight will be out of my control. When I finally look up, after having trouble adjusting my eyes to the flashing cameras, a hand is held out to me and I accept it in order to climb out of the vehicle. I drop the helping hand the second I'm on my feet and see the person that it belongs to.

Without having to ask, I know exactly what tonight is meant to be. A blind date. A set-up with Mateo Ruiz, a family friend of sorts that runs in the same circles and whom I've practically been promised to since I was twelve. He's always been flirtatious and forthcoming about his attraction to me, but especially these days, I don't seem to be interested in the tall, dark, and handsome men that I grew up with.

Mateo Ruiz is the same as the rest, a pretty face with a fat wallet and an unlimited bank account. The difference between us is too much to ignore, and I've never particularly liked the way he looked at me. Even at sixteen, he looked at me like I wasn't a teenager and he wasn't seven years my senior.

"Lovely to see you, Maddison. You look amazing." He tells me in perfect, accented English and I force myself not to roll my eyes, instead taking a small step away from him.

"Likewise," I drawl, uninterested in the games going on behind the scenes. Our mothers love to play matchmaker with the two of us any chance they get. I should be thanking them, as it's one of the reasons I ended up in Red Ridge.

"How was your flight?" Mateo asks as he leads me up the red carpet, towards the doors of the banquet hall tonight's event will be held in. His hand hovers above my lower back and I speed up as much as I can to avoid batting his hand away and being caught doing so, but his strides are longer and he doesn't have trouble keeping up.

"The perfect opportunity to plan the next one."

"Back to America so soon?" He asks, saying the word "America" like it tastes bad on his tongue.

"You bet."

"Smile," He says, stopping in front of an encouraging photographer working for an unrecognizable press company. I don't halt or slow, continuing to walk until I'm inside the doors and Mateo lags behind. "Is this how it's going to be? You and I are—"

I turn to him and look him in the eyes. "There is no you and I. I'm attending this event because I have to, and that is all. See you around," I wave and he grits his teeth together, showing off his anger as he struggles to control it. I take advantage of the knowledge that the last thing in the world that he wants is to damage his image, and I walk away.

He stops with the cat and mouse game, allowing me to chat and mingle with familiar faces as they approach me. I don't dare find the table I'm seated at, knowing that Mateo and I will be seated together. I'll either come up with an excuse to leave before then or grin and bear it; I haven't yet decided how far I'm willing to take this.

The chance of retaliation if I fail this little mission is too high to risk, so I have to suck it up and attend. I don't however, have to be nice to someone who doesn't know how to take a hint.

I smile wide when Mateo approaches me. "Hands off or I'll break them," I warn.

He puts his hands up in defense, never losing the smarmy grin. "Whatever you say, Maddison," He says, continuing to follow me until I grit my teeth from the pain of wearing unbroken heels and decide to find my seat.

My prediction is right, and Mateo pulls my chair out for me before I can do it. I almost don't sit down to make him look foolish, but I need these shoes off now. The little straps are easy to unbuckle and I leave the shoes under the table, pulling out my phone as inconspicuously as possible and booking an Uber to leave.

"Dinner should be served soon—"

"So nice seeing you," I say to Mateo, effectively cutting him off. My words are dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm going to head out. Beauty sleep and all that."

He stands when I do, looking unsure as guests crowd around and find their own tables. I use the chaos to make my escape, barefoot and smiling at the thought of leaving this place. The back exit isn't too far to find, and I walk to the pick-up location outside, watching where I step in case I stumble upon some broken glass or worse.

My muscles only relax once I'm inside the random car, and I'm thankful that my driver doesn't seem chatty because the last thing that I want to do after that event is talk more.

Looking out the window, I admire the city, basking in a yellow glow from the streetlights. This was home for so long, yet now it doesn't feel like anything. It's the place I endure when I must, when I'm called home. It was where my heart lived, here with my brother, but now it's torn in two and separated by an ocean.

I can only hope that the owner of the other half is willing to take it.