As I wandered onto the university grounds, my mind preoccupied, and I collided with a student who cursed at me in French. Shrugging it off, I couldn't ignore the fleet of cars parked around the campus,something was clearly afoot but then I doubt it concerned me.
"Carmela," Tommy skated towards me, his tone urgent. "Why are you dressed like this? Don't you know the auction is today?" He picked up his skateboard, leaving me bewildered about which auction he meant. "Don't tell me you're clueless," he looked at me with wide eyes raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
He suddenly began lamenting as if he was my father, "I've told you to explore beyond the four pillars of the school gallery, but you never listen. If you had, maybe you'd know that two of your paintings are being auctioned today." He sigh, dropping his skateboard back to the ground. "Wait here for me, okay?" skating away he waved leaving me to decode the words he just said
But how could he expect me to sit idly by after dropping such news about my artwork being auctioned without my knowledge? I had only managed to complete four pieces since starting here, and now they were being put up for auction.
"Be careful," a voice said, arms wrapping around me as I stumbled backward. "Are you okay?" I looked up to be met by a familiar gaze.
"Editor Damian," I called out, recognizing him immediately. He scanned the area before pulling up his face mask, as though hiding. His curly hair had grown longer since we last met.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"I actually study here. What about you?"
"I came for the auction... Wait, you study here?" His reply was almost incredulous.
"It's a long story, but here I am. What about my sister? Have you heard from her?"I threw my questions at him not waiting for a response,but he seemed lost in his thoughts. Waving my hands in front of him, as I tried to regain his attention.
"You seem lost," I remarked, watching him awkwardly scratch the back of his head.
"Not really. It's just... it's the first time I've heard you speak so freely," he finally replied, a hint of awkwardness in his tone. Before I could say more, Tommy's call interrupted us.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," I said, following Tommy's insistent pull towards the professor's office. "We'll talk later," I managed to say to Damian before he disappeared from sight.
"Oh, my dear," Professor Henny greeted me warmly as I stepped into her office, and I was taken by surprised of her suddenbkind gesture leading me to take a step back from her. "Tom said you weren't aware of the auction. I'm so sorry about that. I've been so busy..." She trailed off, her demeanor suddenly kinder. It finally dawned on me the reason behind her suddenly change in personality, her position was at stake if I withdrew my paintings.
"I won't," I assured her, and she pulled me into a sudden hug. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you get your percentage before the rest is sent to charity," she promised. Handing me a list of attendees, she added, "Here's the list of people coming for the auction."
Turning to Tommy with a puzzled look, I found him smirking. "Let's get you prepared for the after-party," was all he said with a suspicious wink, pushing me out of the professor's office. My heart skipped a beat when I saw one name on the list..Nix Dean. It had been seven months since we last met, and the anticipation bubbled within me.
"Why are you smiling suddenly?" Tommy whispered as we headed towards the university gates.
"Come, get me ready," I replied, my mind already racing with possibilities.
I clenched my fists, watching Carmela engage freely with the masked man, and couldn't help but wonder when she started talking to strangers.
"Mr. Dean, the auction has already begun, and Madame has been waiting for you," a woman in corporate attire approached me, leading the way.
Taking my seat at the round table, annoyance simmered within me as I remembered the scene outside.
"The next two paintings belong to the same artist, a recent addition to our school, with exceptional talent," the auctioneer announced, unveiling the artworks. The first was unmistakably the garden from my house, but with added details. Before I could react, someone raised their card, eager to bid. Turning, I realized it was the same man I saw speaking to Carmela outside.
"8 million," I bid, feeling all eyes on me, as though I had invited a challenge. Number 983 raised his card, pushing the bid to 10 million.
"What a childish display," I thought, signaling one of the auction staff, it was already a won battle so why was he trying to compete?
"Number 23 just bid 100 million for both paintings," the auctioneer announced, scanning the room for challengers. As expected, no one was willing to pay such a sum for an unknown artist, no matter how talented.
"A hundred million going once..."
"Two hundred million," number 983 interjected, his gaze fixed firmly on me. What was he trying to prove? Lay claim to what rightfully belonged to me?
"Five hundred million," I declared, my anger boiling over, and I could feel my demeanor turning steely.
"Five hundred million going once, twice... and it's sold," the auctioneer concluded. Rising to my feet, I made my way out of the room, ignoring the applause.
One thing had to be made clear to everyone, acarmela and everything related to her belonged to me.
The air hummed with the mingling scents of perfume and anticipation as Carmela stepped into the after-auction party. She wore a midnight black dress that gracefully reached to her knees, its flowery top delicately covering her chest. Glass heels adorned her feet, adding a touch of elegance to her ensemble. Extensions had been woven into her hair, transforming her flatly ironed hair into a cascade of waves held back by two silver clips at the sides.
True to her distaste for heavy makeup, her face was lightly powdered, a hint of blush highlighting her cheeks. A bold cherry red lipstick adorned her lips, adding a touch of allure to her otherwise understated look.
"If we weren't off-limits," Tommy murmured, brushing his arm lightly against hers, "I'd spend the whole night making you mine."
He held out his arm for her to take, and though Carmela rolled her eyes, her heart thudded a little faster.
"Why didn't you take off the leg chain?" he questioned, noticing the delicate chain around her ankle.
"I promised never to take it off," she replied, a hint of defiance in her voice. Feeling a bit exposed under the gaze of the attendees, she slipped on a jacket, covering her arms as she made her way into the hall, feeling the weight of the stares upon her.
Inside, the murmur of voices and clinking glasses filled the room, but Carmela's attention was fixed on one person, Nix. She spotted him coming from behind and quickly slid her hand out of Tommy's, giving him a polite smile as she excused herself.
"Go ahead, I have to meet someone," she said, watching Tommy nod before disappearing into the lively event hall. Standing at the side, she waited for Nix, her heart racing with a mix of nervousness and excitement.
As he approached, she debated whether to address him as Mr. Dean or simply as Nix. He had always encouraged informality between them, but something about his demeanor tonight made her reconsider.
"Nix," she called out softly, her voice barely above a whisper. To her surprise, he walked past her as if she were invisible, causing her heart to sink. Had her voice betrayed her, becoming lost in the sea of noise around them?
However, just as she began to doubt herself, Nix halted in his steps. A small glimmer of hope lit up her eyes, a tentative smile tugging at her lips. Yet, her hopes were dashed as he spoke, his voice cutting through the buzz of the room.
"Mr. Dean," he corrected her, his tone firm. "Refer to me as Mr. Dean. We might have shared an informal relationship in the past few months, but it's all in the past now."
Carmela felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces at his words. The sting of tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes, the heat of the moment intensifying as the eyes of the guests seemed to bore into her.
She stood frozen in place, feeling as though the ground had shifted beneath her feet. The once familiar warmth between them now replaced with an icy distance that seemed insurmountable.
As the party buzzed around her, Carmela couldn't shake the feeling of being utterly alone in a crowded room, the weight of Nix's dismissal heavy on her heart. With a forced smile on her lips, she turned away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, determined to not let anyone see her vulnerability. But inside, her heart ached with the weight of what could have been, and the harsh reality of what was now.
"Carmela," a familiar voice called out, and she quickly blinked back her tears, putting on a smile as she turned to find Damian dressed formally like the rest of the attendees. Despite her efforts, her chest felt heavy with hurt.
"You..." she managed, her voice catching in her throat.
"I'll be back. Please excuse me, I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice shaking but firm, before making her way towards the ladies' room.
Upon entering, she found no tears left in her eyes, only a simmering anger that threatened to boil over. The urge to smash the mirror crossed her mind, but the realization that she couldn't only fueled her frustration.
"Call me Mr. Dean," she scoffed sarcastically, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "Who was the one who pleaded with me to use their first name, and now you're trying to give me attitude?" she muttered to herself, picking up a tissue to dab at the corners of her eyes.
"They were right all along... I think she's a gold digger given the way she approached Mr Dean" she overheard a group of girls whisper as they entered the restroom. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Gold digger?" she echoed, addressing no one in particular as she shrugged off the jacket she was wearing, tossing it into the waste bin. "I've been called all sorts of names since I was a child, but not a gold digger... But you know what? I kind of like this one better."
"If you want to play games with me, then let's play. I'm no longer timid to take up challenges," she declared to her reflection, her eyes flashing with determination.
With a deep breath, she straightened her posture, wiping away the last traces of anger and hurt from her expression. Adjusting her dress, she gathered her composure and stepped out of the restroom, ready to face whatever the night had in store for her.
As she made her way back to the party, Carmela felt a newfound sense of strength coursing through her veins. She was no longer the naive girl who would let others dictate her worth. Tonight, she would show them all that she was a force to be reckoned with.
With a confident stride, she entered the hall once more, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Nix Dean. The man who had dismissed her, the man who had challenged her.
"Mr. Dean," she said,her voice steady and strong, a glint of defiance in her eyes. "It seems we have unfinished business." She said, narrowing her eyes to the woman he was already entangled with