14 | Realization

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Kiara

Chloe's party was to be held at her house, roughly ten blocks away from where I live.

About three weeks earlier, Rose had--forcefully--dragged me with her to Renegade, a mall five blocks from our college. And yes, I had a whole lot of time before the party, but Rose insisted that I needed to have everything ready without waiting till the last moment.

"Come on, Rose. I don't need anything new," I whined, staggering out of the third store she had pulled me into.

She swivelled around to face me and positioned a finger on her mouth dramatically. "Shush! Me not being invited to the party is bad enough, but if you don't let me style you, I'll never talk to you again. So, this is happening," she insisted.

I sighed and gave in, letting her pull me into Undying Style, a popular apparel store where most rich kids shop.

"No way, Ro. It's too expensive here." I tried to wriggle free from her grasp.

Even the staff were dressed in expensive-looking formal wear. They eyed us creepily as we roamed past them.

"You have no say in this, okay? This is where you're buying your dress. Don't worry about shoes, you can borrow a pair of mine. The dress is what we have to focus on. So, don't fret over the prices."

She strode over to a mannequin attired in a beautiful, wine red, high-neck dress. Deep red sequins adorned the top half, and the bottom part was elegant and flowy. It ended about three inches above the dummy's knee.

Rose stalked around the dummy, observing the dress, while I scanned around for less shiny apparel that didn't seem to grab any attention.

"Aha! Found it!"

I spun around to see Rose holding up a duplicate of the dummy's dress.

My eyes widened at her as I shook my hands at her, "No, no, no. No. No way! That's not my style at all."

She rolled her eyes at me, playfully. "Come on, Ki. Your style is awful for parties. Give this a chance and try it on." She held the dress out to me.

I sighed as I took it from her hands, gingerly, and plodded over to the fitting rooms.

After struggling a bit with the dress, I stared at the reflection I saw in the mirror. I almost didn't recognise her. It was me, of course, but I looked different. I looked . . . older. More mature. I mean, being a seventeen-year-old, I actually looked like a fifteen-year-old, so the dress did an impressive job at making me look my age.

The dress stopped a little below my mid-thigh, and the fabric fit my figure perfectly. To my surprise, I didn't feel uncomfortable because the sequins were strewn on in such a way that they didn't even graze my skin. The dress was so light, gently brushing my thighs. The bodice was tightly hugging my upper body, but not too tight that I couldn't breathe. The sequins were shimmering in the bright light that shone down over me from the tiny bulb fixed on the ceiling.

I turned and peered at myself from behind. I looked amazing! I actually felt confident wearing it. Feeling pleased with it, I had to say; I looked stunning. The dress was simple; not very attention-grabbing, but it gave off a fine party vibe.

"Girl, I'm waiting," I heard Rose whisper from outside the door.

I unlocked the door and stepped out, performing a clumsy twirl and ending it with an impish courtesy.

"Oh, my God! Ki, you look gorgeous! Stunning! Sundar!" she gushed, pulling me into a hug.

As I learned earlier from Rose, I knew that 'sundar' meant 'beautiful' in Hindi, which made me blush. It was the first time someone had complimented me in another language, and it felt nice.

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