It Started With Cake - A Gregory Gorenc fan fiction

Chapter 1 - Blueberry Cheesecake

I sipped my champagne once more. I’ve lost count of how many glasses I’ve had and I still don’t feel the alcohol kicking in. No excuse to leave yet. Maybe I should throw into a fit and maybe, just maybe, mom would kick me out and send me to my room. God, will this night ever end? I hate parties. I really do. Unless it’s a party over at Summer’s house with beer in red cups and various cocktails my friend Leila would make. The kind of party where you can dance your ass off and nobody would give a damn if you look like someone who just escaped from a mental hospital. The kind of party where manners don’t matter at all, where you can make out with any random stranger and no one would judge you except for me. Unlike the party I’m at now. It’s grandma’s 75th birthday and, like every year, she throws the grandest party White Star Hotel has ever seen with each party much grander than the past. She tends to do that if-you-have-it-then-flaunt-it thing a lot. She’s very proud of her properties like the White Star Hotel. Especially the White Star Hotel, which happens to be located along the Manila Bay. According to grandma, it is worth more to her than all her other properties combined. It’s where she began. It was the proof of her and grandfather’s hard work. Today, she now owns seven hotels and resorts across the country, a record company based in Los Angeles that my brother William now runs, a clothing line in New York that is run by my two designer cousins, vacation houses in London, Paris and California, a beach house in Baler and a huge ass mansion in Tagaytay. But she would always say that her most valued treasure, even more precious than the White Star Hotel, is her family. She would tell us that if she were asked to choose between all her properties that she worked so hard on to achieve and us, she would choose us. She said that she doesn’t care if she wouldn’t have a penny to herself as long as she has her family. 

Her parties are always swanky; it floods of champagne, wine, and people of high society with gentlemen in their suits and ties (and bow ties) and ladies competing on whom’s wearing the most beautiful gown for the night. I rolled my eyes at thought of how predictable rich people can be, always flaunting what they can afford. Can’t blame them though, I used to do the same too when I was younger, especially when I was still in high school. But now, I really don’t care about any of those anymore. I would prefer a private family gathering at grandma’s beach house with home-cooked meals and mom’s specialty apple cinnamon pie.

I decided to stay at the doorway leading to the balcony where I can see the whole of the room. A live band was hired to play for the party and the buffet table offers a selection of desserts. The chandeliers lit up the function hall and the tables boast of white and gold colours each with a bouquet of white roses as a center piece. Dinner was served earlier individually on the tables. I scanned the room to look for my grandmother. I found her on the dance floor slow dancing with grandfather. I smiled. I’ve never seen a couple so much in love. They’ve been married for 53 years and they would always say like it’s been only 53 minutes. I never grew tired of marvelling their love. I was distracted by two teenage girls a table away from me. They were comparing their dresses both boasting how expensive each was. I’m guessing they’re daughters of grandma’s business partners. I looked at my own dress. I was wearing a black empire evening dress designed by my cousin and the red Louboutins that William gave me for Christmas last year. I smoothed the skirt and whispered to myself, “I’m good. You’re good, Winter. You look mighty fine tonight. Nothing to worry about.” I raised my hand to my ears to make sure the diamond earrings my mom gave me for my 16th birthday was still intact. I can’t afford to lose them or mom will kill me. I wore my long chestnut hair down and had it curled that it falls over my right shoulder.

“Why don’t you mingle with the guests, sweetheart?” A familiar voice said from my left. I turned to face my mom who looked stunning in her beige evening dress. She wore the diamond studded choker dad gave her for their 15th wedding anniversary and the earrings that went with it. “Oh, mom, you know I’m not good at this kind of parties. I never know what to say. Besides, they’re not my kind of people. They tend to bore me when they start to talk about business and politics.” She reached out her hand to hold mine. “Win, there’s no harm in getting to know people. You have to go out there or you’ll die alone with no friends.” She joked. “I do have friends, mom. I can make friends if I want to but I choose them carefully first.” I replied. She just sighed at me. “I just don’t see the point of mingling with these people. I mean, yeah, no harm there, but what would I merit from it? Surely, none of them would enjoy my company.” I said. My mom gave me her please-tell-me-you’re-kidding look and said, “Impressing potential investors and potential husband?” I nearly choked on my champagne when she mentioned the word husband. “Mom, really? I’m only 20. I still have my life ahead of me and there’s so much I want to do. A husband is not on my priority list.” I said. “Just consider it, don’t let your past ruin your future.” She said squeezing my arm then walked away.