PENELOPE.
Despite being tired after dinner with my family, I drove straight to Daphne's as promised. At just two hours before midnight, her family's mansion was already so quiet. The only sound was Taylor Swift's "22," its bubbly, nostalgic energy filling Daphne's bedroom from the stereo. I had been singing along to that same song on repeat the entire drive here. The soft glow of string lights flickered overhead as I collapsed onto her plush velvet sofa, the familiar scent of roses and vanilla from burning candles filling the air. A smile spread across my face as I caught my breath, lost in the melody.
For months, I've been living vicariously through Daphne as she prepares for her birthday that's finally happening tomorrow. She's about to turn twenty-two, and I've been dreaming about Percy and my twenty-second birthday too—imagining the kind of celebration we'll have. I know Percy doesn't care much for these things, so he'll just go along with whatever I decide. It's funny how we all look forward to those milestones, isn't it? That feeling of stepping into something new, bigger, brighter. I've been living in that daydream, imagining what it'd feel like to be twenty-two, to be truly grown up.
Will things be different?
I decided to worry about myself later and focus on my best friend. While we're singing along, I can't help but notice how she's trying to keep up a sparkling facade. Daphne always has to put on the cheerful, bright, bubbly air of a beauty queen, no matter what. But if you look closely enough underneath the surface, she always looks detached—almost distracted. And tonight, her eyes keep flickering to the window, like she was waiting for someone to come get her.
I know she's holding back feelings she's not ready to voice. So I took a chance, reached out, tapping her shoulder gently.
"You alright, babes?" I asked gently and she nodded with a smile.
"Why do you like this song so much, anyway? You've been listening to it for months"
Daphne suddenly asked and I blinked, gasping dramatically. I know she's trying to change the subject but how dare she even ask that?
"Why do I like this song?" Is she kidding me? "The better question is, why don't you? It's the perfect anthem for turning twenty-two, for feeling young and free."
Daphne gave a small, tight smile and shrugged after my mini-rant.
"It's just…I don't know. It's just a song."
"No way. You're telling me you don't want to dance right now?" I tugged her hand lightly. "How could you not want to dance to this? Besides, it's not just about the number—it's about feeling alive, celebrating everything you've done, everything ahead."
She hesitated, then slowly got to her feet, a little reluctant. I grinned mischievously and pulled her into a wild, silly dance in the middle of the room.
"Come on, Daphne. Get out of your head for a second. Just feel the music. You're about to be twenty-two—live a little!"
Daphne laughed, the tension easing from her face as we danced. I love seeing her like this—more carefree, more present. The music pulsed around us, the bass vibrating through my chest. I watched her face light up, her laughter louder as she moved with me, trying to match the rhythm.
"See?" I asked still laughing as I spun her around again. "You can't tell me this song doesn't make you want to dance like nobody's watching. Come on, admit it—this song makes you feel alive, right?"
Daphne giggled, her cheeks tinged with a bit of pink, her smile brighter than I'd seen in a while. She was letting go—just a little—and that was enough to make me feel like I'd already won tonight. I watched her sway to the beat, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, and I thought, 'This is what she needs—this moment of pure, unfiltered joy.'
But then, I noticed the shadow behind her eyes—the flicker of something unspoken. Her smile was still there, but her gaze was distant, like she was somewhere else entirely. My smile faded slightly, and I slowed our dance, gently holding her shoulders to catch her attention.
"Okay," I said softly, tilting her chin so I could see her face. "Out with it. What's wrong?"
She hesitated, biting her lip, her gaze flickering away for a moment. "What makes you think something's wrong?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but her voice was a little shaky.
I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Because you've been gloomy since I got here, babes. Come on. Tomorrow's your birthday. You're supposed to be excited. Why do you look like someone just told you the world's ending?"
She sighed again, shoulders slumping a little. "It's… nothing. Just thinking about things."
I nudged her gently. "That sigh is not 'nothing' sigh. Spill, now! You know I can tell when something's bothering you."
She hesitated, then in almost a whisper she said, "I'm thinking about telling him how I feel tomorrow but I'm afraid about things changing once I tell him."
That hit me like a punch in the gut. I know exactly who she's talking about—Percy. I'm happy she's finally ready to tell him how she feels because I know how hard she's been holding onto hope of them being together, but I'm also a little worried for her because I know my brother. I reached for her hand again, squeezing it. "Oh, babe. We've been friends since diapers, remember? I don't know what he's going to say, but I can promise you that nothing is ever going to change what we have."
She nodded, but I could see the doubt still flickering in her eyes. "You're right," she whispered, biting her lip again. "I guess I'm just… overthinking as usual. I mean, it's not like I don't know him already. He has his own things to worry about too."
I looked at my friend, a strange mix of protectiveness and frustration swirling inside me. Like me, she's been living in her parents' shadows, carrying the weight of their expectations, from participating in every beauty pageant to every talent show. People only know the on-screen Daphne—the one who is bitchy, sassy, and confident. But the Daphne I know cares too much about her friends, her family, and Percy. Sometimes, I wondered if she forgot how to just breathe and let things happen. It's easier said than done, I know, but I've tried to remind her that she deserves to enjoy her own life without worrying about her parents, boys, or the "what-ifs."
"Hey," I said softly, leaning in close so she could hear me. "Tonight's about celebrating you. Forget about everything else. Just for tonight. You've earned it. We're going to have fun, dance, and make some memories. Deal?"
She hesitated, then cracked a small smile. "Deal," she said, her voice a little steadier.
I could see her shoulders relax, just a little, and I knew I'd made her smile a tiny bit brighter. But I also knew her mind was still tangled up in hopes and fears about tomorrow. And honestly? I understood that feeling all too well.
"You know what," I said, a mischievous grin spreading across my face, "i think we should do something different tonight . What do you say we hit the club? Just us, dancing until dawn."
Daphne's eyes widened in mock horror. "Mother would have a heart attack if we suddenly disappear from my room and went out partying tonight. You know how she is about my 'beauty sleep' before the big day."
I giggled, my own excitement bubbling up. "Exactly! That's why we're sneaking out. It's our night. No boys, no bodyguards. Just us, dancing, and celebrating you."
Daphne grinned, a little mischievous spark returning to her eyes. "Alright. Let's do it!" she said, giving me a quick high five, the thrill of rebellion coursing through us. I watched her eyes sparkle with that familiar spark—the one that told me she was ready to get out of her head, to let herself feel alive regardless of what tomorrow might bring.
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of chaos—clothes flying, plans being whispered, a secret route mapped out in our minds. We giggled over the idea of slipping past her guards, sneaking out the back door, the adrenaline making our hearts race. It was reckless, maybe a little stupid, but in that moment, it felt perfect.
Tonight wasn't just about celebrating Daphne's birthday. It was about reminding ourselves that sometimes, the best memories came from the wildest, most spontaneous moments—when you threw caution to the wind and just lived.