The Competitor

Chapter Four

Dahlia

"Hey, how was school, my little butterfly?" my father asks warmly. My mother has a runway event going on in Paris, so they both asked me if I wanted to join them. However, leaving Sofi alone for over a week made me decide to stay. 

Though it is midnight in Paris, my father never missed a FaceTime call with me to check how I was doing. 

"Not bad," I say as I open a bag of chips and settle onto the couch. "I got a 98 in AP Physics today."

"I'm very proud of you" my father beams, turning to my mother. "Butterfly? Did you hear that? My girl's got a great grade in AP Physics." My father calls my mother butterfly, it's the nickname he gave her when they first met. I adore the love they have for each other. Whenever my mother steps into the room, my father's expression instantly relaxes. 

My mother appears on the screen and congratulates me, adding, "Good job, sweetie. Just don't overwork yourself, alright?"

"Says the one still working at midnight," my father playfully mumbles.

"Christian, you do the same thing all the time"

"Daddy," I interrupt, getting his attention immediately, "Niko's friend Eli is throwing a party tonight, and Sofia asked if I'd go with her."

My father's expression turns stern. "Eli who?"

"I don't know his last name. All I know is that he plays football with Niko. Can I please just go? Sofia wants to go, but she'll only go if I join her." As the CEO and owner of Harper Security, he would probably investigate who Eli was anyway. Having access to such resources, he doesn't need a last name to find out.

"How could Alex let his daughter go to a party of some kid he barely knows?" my father asks, looking at my mother. 

"Niko will be there, and if he's going, James and Jacob will be there too. I think it's safe enough for Dahlia to attend, don't you think?" my mother reasoned, leaning on his shoulder. 

My father sighs, "Fine. But at midnight, I want you home. Remember, I can check whether or not you are home. Greta will tell me anything."

"Thank you, Daddy. I promise I'll be home by midnight," I assure him, blowing him and my mother a kiss before we say our goodbyes and hang up.

I know my father would keep his word about checking if I came home on time. Our penthouse is one of the safest in New York, possibly even the safest in America. Whenever my parents are away for an extended period, he would have bodyguards surrounding the building, along with security cameras and alarms around our front door.

It is evident that my father is quite overprotective of my mother and me.

To be honest, I wasn't too keen on going to Eli's house party. I had only agreed because Sofia wanted to go. Her father, my uncle Alex, is just as overprotective as my father, and he wouldn't allow her to go unless Niko or anyone else he trusts was attending as well.

I grab my phone to message Sofia the good news.

Me: Guess what? My father said I can go.

Sofi: UGH YES. Get ready, I'm picking you up at 8:30.

Me: Doesn't it start at 8?

Sofi: I don't think my makeup will be done by 8.

Sofi: Now wear that dress I got you in Spain.

Sofi: If I don't see you in it, I'm making you change.

I knew exactly which dress she meant—a short, rich blue party dress she bought for me while her family was in Barcelona last spring. I hadn't worn it yet, but she had been pestering me to wear it ever since.

After finishing the family pack of chips, I made my way to my room. Greta helped me search for the dress Sofia got me, all the while lecturing about the importance of organizing my closet—'a clean closet means a clean mind,' she always said. Greta had been with my family for years, even before my father met my mother. She claimed she knew they were meant to be together from the moment my father asked her to make every breakfast menu for my mother because he didn't know which one she liked the most.

I hoped to find a love as strong as theirs one day.

I put on the dress and began reapplying my makeup. Even though I take good care of my skin and don't need to cover it up, I still enjoy the process of putting on a full face of makeup. Foundation, concealer, contour, powder, blush—the blending is always extremely satisfying.

As I did my makeup, I couldn't help but reflect on what happened in psychology class this morning. I am still upset about having to work with James. Talking it over with Sofia at lunch made me realise that I don't truly know why I dislike him so much.

Sure, there is some rivalry or competition between us—always trying to outdo each other and prove who is smarter or better. But there has to be something more to it. From the day I met him, I just couldn't seem to warm up to him. He was cold and unfriendly, at least with me. With everyone else, he seemed fine. I wonder why that could be the case.

While I line my lips, my phone rings.

It is Sofia, so I answer.

"Hey girlie, I just wanted to know, are we wearing heels? Flats? Sneakers?"

I hadn't thought about that. "Are we going to be dancing?"

"Oh, we're definitely dancing. You're right. Let's go with sneakers. After all, it's just Eli's party."

"Sneakers it is," I reply, putting on lip gloss. I check the time, and it is 8:10 PM.

Sofia is already getting ready. "Okay, I'll grab my car keys and be there soon."