Their Masks

The Rich Girl's Mask (Part 3)

There was too much noise in the background for Amelia to understand what her company of models and socialites were speaking of to each other.

She didn't mind in the least bit about not being included in the conversation anyway. She had held the party in her house so that she would not be alone tonight. The mansion usually got cold during this time of the year.

But even with the distraction her money her bought her, her head was no less troubled than the previous few days.

Something was not right in her life. It would have been no problem at all if she knew what it was. Money would have been thrown on it to cover it up instantly. The main problem was that it was unknown. And that was the greatest headache Amelia had ever had in all her years of living on this earth.

It was such a distraction to her that she could not tolerate the noise she had brought into her house after an hour of it. She was used to loud music and busybodies around her. Being wealthy meant that was what composed of your 'night-time'.

Today she had been looking for the distraction that parties brought to her life. She wanted to just have a good time with people she had paid to make her feel good.

Currently, none of those things were happening.

All she kept wondering was why her A
assistant had reminded her of her mother. Every time she tried to concentrate on the flirting of the model beside her, her mind would eventually wonder back to the girl.
Since turning eighteen, Amelia had seen her mother only a handful of times. Enough that she could forget with a few bottles of the most expensive champagne she could find afterward.

But now everything she ingested only made her mother's face appear clearer than anything else she remembered. She didn't want to remember that woman. She had cast Amelia out of her life because of looking like her father. Because of something she had no control over. What use did Amelia have in thinking about that heinous woman?

But she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop her thoughts from going in that direction. This was all that damned assistant's fault. If she had just done her job and not looked like a wounded puppy, Amelia would have never been in this predicament, to begin with.

Someone was asking her what the problem was when she noticed that there were tears in her eyes. When had she begun crying? Why was she even crying?

There were too many questions in her head. And this damned noise was not helping her think. She needed some air. The repulsive stench of fakeness that was emanating from every single person at this party was choking her.

Amelia was in her car and zooming down the highway when she realized that she was going nowhere. She couldn't go home because that den was filled with lies. Jasmine's place was just trading one evil for another.

If only she had not fired her assistant.

Amelia gave herself a swift mental kick and stepped harder on the accelerator. That girl was the course of her situation right now. She had no reason to ever see her ever again in this life.

It might have been hours since she had fled her party but Amelia didn't know it. She had no idea of where she was heading, but it had to be a better place than where she had came from.

Where she came from... that was a sentiment Amelia had never faced since she was six years. Where exactly was she from? She had no identity of her own. Her wealth was from the Ventica name, something she did precious little to obtain. Her fame, also because she was a Ventica.

Her life then? Not the superficial one she had for the cameras and social media sites. No, her true life that Amelia knew to be horrible and messy. Was that all she had owned with her own effort? Did it mean that minus the money and the wealth, she was nothing more than just another statistic in this world? A leech on the society that added no value at all to the betterment of humankind?

That couldn't be true. She had done more for the poor than anyone else alive in this world. She donated a lot of money to the poor in this country she lived in. That was a significant deed to do in the world. There was no way that she could be faulted for helping those who needed money right?

But Amelia knew that it was a lie. She had no hand in distributing the money in her possession to the poor. She had employed people for that work. She didn't even handle her own shopping spree money. There was someone who was paid to do that.
There was nothing Amelia had done to further mankind's living in this life apart from spending her money. That was all she was good at, being a customer to someone's business.

It was clear now why she hired fake friends to stand beside her in events and parties. She was the queen of anything fake in this life. Everything she owned was fake. Everything she did was superficial.

And the realization of this made her eyes tear. She didn't want to cry. She knew it was a weakness. But she was hurting. She had been condemning her parents for being evil but really she should have asked them to love her. She should have asked her mother to accept her. Even if her mask resembled her father's, she could be better than that man. She would try her hardest to be better.

Yes, that seemed like the only thing that mattered in her life now. Amelia wanted to do nothing but go beside her mother's side. No... she needed to go see her mother.

It seemed she had been right about the road she had chosen to escape her party. It took her no more than six minutes to reach the doorstep of her parent's mansion. She didn't know if they were home. Her father would be nowhere near his domicile at night.
But that wasn't the person she had come to see.

The one her heart bled for was the one who answered her at the door. She looked as stressed and worn down by life as the last few years that the two had seen each other.

"Amy? What are you doing here?"

Amy... she had not heard that name for almost four years now. That name was probably the only good thing that was left in her life. That was the name her mother had christened her.

"Please take me back, mother... I promise I'll be better. I'm tired of living like this... please, mother... please..." she couldn't find anything more to say. The glasses of champagne she had at the party were starting to go to her head. She slipped into the dark abyss of unconsciousness, wondering why her mother's mask held no emotion whatsoever.