“Adeline Hughes?”
The silence was broken, and soon I was greeted by a chorus of voices recognizing me.
"Adeline Hughes, am I seeing this right? You were quite the looker back in high school. How come you've got so many crow's feet now?"
"I can't believe it. Back then, I couldn't help but admire your pictures online. And now, what happened to your figure?"
Yes, once, my youthful body was full of life. But now, it’s like a balloon long deflated.
"You’ve become an internet sensation for all the wrong reasons. Mind if I interview you? I’m curious where you get the nerve to still make public appearances."
It seemed everyone in this private room was a high school classmate of mine and Marlon Parker’s. Even the woman perched on Marlon’s lap. She was Lisa Smith, who once threatened to take her own life after Marlon turned her down back in school.
At that moment, I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole. I turned to make my exit, but Marlon blocked my path.
"What? You’re not even going to say hello to some old friends?"
A classmate took the chance to grab my hand and tug me back.
"Since you’re here, why not have a drink with us? It’s been years. Fill us in on your struggles these past years. We could use a good laugh."
Tears welled up in my eyes, yet I fought to keep them from falling.
I bowed my head and murmured, “I’ll ask the manager to send another server.”
But someone from behind encircled me with their arms, preventing my retreat.
"Stay, I want you to serve me."
The unexpected move startled me, and my hand jerked, sending the drinks on the tray crashing to the floor, shattering.
The man stepped back with a sneer. "So touchy! Aren’t you usually game for anything? You certainly put on a show in those online videos."
I bent down, apologizing again and again, "I’m sorry, I’ll get you another round."
Lisa sashayed over, brandishing a bottle of whiskey.
"Is that your idea of an apology? That’s pretty weak. Now drink this."
I bowed lower. "Ms. Smith, I—I can’t drink alcohol."
Marlon picked up a glass and hurled it to the ground at my feet, shards nicking my leg.
"Adeline Hughes! When my Luna gives you an order, you listen. Are you deaf?"
The words "my Luna" hit me hard, and the tears I had held back finally spilled over.
In high school, he’d once draped an arm around my shoulder, imitating a mafia boss in front of our classmates, declaring with pride, "Adeline Hughes is my mate. None of you better even think about her."
Then, I was just a gullible kid, nestled in his arms, eyes full of admiration.
But now, those words were no longer meant for me.
