Selena’s P. O. V.
The next morning, I wake up holding my head, which is pounding like crazy.
“Ugh, my head is spinning,” I groan, pressing my palms against my temples.
My throat feels dry, and my entire body is heavy, like I’ve been hit by a truck. Slowly, I blink my eyes open, and it takes me a second to recognize where I am.
It’s Zoe’s guest room.
What am I doing here?
The events of last night are a hazy blur, and I try to sit up, groaning again as the movement makes the room tilt slightly.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Zoe walks in, holding a glass of something. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the hangover.”
I take the glass and take a sip of the drink. The sour taste of lemon jolts me awake.
“What happened last night?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “I… I don’t remember.”
Zoe raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Oh, you don’t?” As I shake my head, she continues, “You got completely drunk and acted like me. Clumsy. And you said some very interesting things to Mr. Luther.”
I freeze mid-sip, staring at her. “Hold on. What? What did I say to him?
Zoe sits on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms. “Oh, you know… you called him evil, egotistical, controlling, and-what was it?-unsatisfying.”
The glass nearly slips from my hands, and flashes of last night start to come back-the party, the drinking, and… oh no, Mr. Luther.
“Shit!” I exclaim, sitting up straight. “What did I do? How am I supposed to face Mr. Luther now?”
“You were pretty wild,” Zoe teases. “But relax, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Not the end of the world?” I ask, panicked. “What if he tells my dad? I’ve messed up everything.”
Zoe places a hand on my shoulder. “Selena, calm down. Take a deep breath. Just go talk to him and clear things up.”
I nod. “Yeah, you’re right. I should go home and face him.”
“Don’t stress too much, okay? And I’ll see you at college later.”
“Yeah,” I reply, slipping on my heels.
I give Zoe a quick hug and she teases me, “Good luck facing the handsome oldie.”
I laugh, rushing out.
As I step out of her apartment, my eyes land on Mr Luther’s car parked under the tree. He’s still there, sitting inside. I notice he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday. His hair is a mess and his eyes look bloodshot like he hasn’t slept all night.
I pause for a moment.
Did he stay here the entire night? For me? Why?
I take slow steps toward his car. He notices me immediately, and his dark eyes lock on mine. I can’t read his expression, but there’s something in it that makes me nervous.
“You stayed here all night?” I ask, standing by his window.
“Get in the car, Selena,” he says in a stern voice, ignoring my question completely.
Will he stop bossing me around?
But I can’t argue with him now. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough last night.
I sigh and obey, sliding into the passenger seat.
As he drives, I initiate the conversation. “Look, I know I was wrong last night, but please don’t tell Dad. I promise it won’t happen again.”
He doesn’t reply. His focus remains on the road.
After a few more failed attempts to get him to talk, I give up and turn to look out the window.
When we arrive at his mansion, he immediately heads to his room without saying a word to me. I stand there, feeling a strange ache in my chest. His coldness hurts more than I expected, and I don’t understand why.
“Why are you ignoring me, Mr. Luther?” I ask, following him.
He stops in his tracks and turns around, his expression unreadable.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to go out without security?” He questions, his voice filled with anger and concern.
I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off, his voice rising. “No, you don’t. That’s why you did it. I told you not to go out, but you’re so careless. So stubborn. You don’t listen to anyone.”
As I feel a pang in my heart at his words, tears well up in my eyes. From the time I was a child, I’ve always done what others wanted. I’ve never done anything for myself, always obeying my parents, never thinking about my happiness. And yet, here he is, calling me stubborn and careless.
He pauses when he sees the tears streaming down my face. The anger fades from his features immediately.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Luther,” I apologise, my voice shaky. “From now on, I’ll listen to everything you say.”
I don’t wait for his reply. I turn and dash to my room before closing the door. As soon as I’m alone, more tears spill down my cheeks.
Why does it hurt so much?
I sit on the edge of my bed and take deep breaths to calm myself down. “You’re a strong girl, Selena. Don’t cry,” I say to myself, wiping my tears away.
But no matter how hard I try, his words replay in my head, hurting me. Careless. Stubborn. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know how much I’ve sacrificed, how much I’ve bottled up to be the perfect daughter, the perfect girl my parents expect me to be.
My chest feels heavy, and I hate that his words have this much power over me.
***
The next morning, as I’m leaving for college, I halt as Mr Luther comes in front of me, all dressed up in a black suit.
How can he always look so hot that I want to devour him?
Stop it, Selena. Will you stop fantasising about it?
I compose myself and ask in attitude. “What? Now, what do you want?”
“Selena, I-” He stops, as if unsure how to continue, then exhales. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you yesterday. Really, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
Giving him a small smile, I reply flatly, “It’s okay, Mr Luther. I’m used to it.”
His brows furrow at my words, but I don’t give him a chance to respond. I walk past him and out the door, heading toward the car, waiting to take me to college.
As I sit in the backseat, staring out the window, a genuine smile spreads across my face. A part of me finds comfort in the fact he cared enough to apologise.
Even if I’m nothing but a responsibility to him, I think it still matters.