The moment Elena's friends pulled her upstairs, the house echoed with their laughter and excitement. Elena felt her heartbeat pounding, her nerves twisting, but a tiny spark of thrill lit inside her chest. She had never been to a club, never dressed up for a night out, and never been part of something loud, wild, or glamorous. Yet tonight, because of one unexpected invitation, everything felt new.
Mia opened Elena's wardrobe like she owned it.
Hannah checked Elena's hair with a critical eye.
Olivia spread makeup brushes across the table.
Grace sat Elena down on the bed with a smile that meant, "You're not escaping this."
"We are turning you into a goddess," Olivia said.
"I… I don't think I need to be a goddess," Elena whispered.
"You do tonight," Mia declared. "Especially since a certain someone invited you personally."
Elena's cheeks burned. "It's not like that—"
Grace cut in. "Then why is your face red right now?"
Elena groaned and hid her face in a pillow, making them all laugh.
Within minutes, dresses were being held up against her body—short ones, sparkly ones, bold red ones, and black fitted ones she didn't even know she owned because Sienna bought them for "someday."
Finally, Mia pulled out a wine-colored satin dress. It hugged the body in the right places, simple yet stunning, elegant yet bold.
"This one," Mia said with confidence. "Trust me."
Elena's eyes widened. "It's too short!"
"It's not short," Olivia corrected, "it's beautiful."
"It's practically fabric economy," Elena muttered, making them laugh harder.
They forced her into it, zipped her up, and when Elena turned to the mirror—she froze.
The girl staring back wasn't her.
She was softer, glowing, and grown-up.
Her hair fell in warm waves over her shoulders.
Her lips were tinted a soft rose.
Her eyes sparkled with something she never carried before.
Confidence?
Maybe.
Or just the idea that someone she secretly admired might look at her tonight.
Her breath stuttered.
Grace clasped her hands dramatically. "My God… you look like trouble."
"Good trouble," Hannah added.
"Adrian's jaw is going to drop," Olivia teased.
Elena panicked. "Stop—stop it. He's Sienna's boyfriend."
The room went quiet for a beat.
Her friends exchanged a quick glance but didn't argue. They didn't dare. They saw how Elena's chest tightened whenever Sienna's name came up.
Mia took her hand gently. "You're allowed to feel pretty, Elena. That's all this is."
Elena nodded, though her heart felt too full.
But the moment she walked downstairs, everything collapsed.
Her father was standing at the bottom of the stairs talking to Adrian.
Both men turned at the sound of her footsteps.
Both froze.
Adrian's eyes widened—not in shock, but in utter, unmistakable awe.
His lips parted, breath catching for a second.
His gaze swept over her, slow and unhidden, before he forced himself to blink and look away.
That look alone made Elena's knees weaken.
But her father snapped her back to reality.
"Elena!" he exclaimed, horrified. "What are you wearing?"
She stiffened. "I… it's just a dress."
"That is not a dress—it's a disaster," he exclaimed, grabbing his glasses. "You're not going out like this."
Elena's cheeks flamed with humiliation.
Her friends tried to defend her, but her father shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not."
What hurt more was when Adrian finally spoke.
"Your father is right," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. "It's not… suitable."
The words landed like a slap.
Elena looked away, heart twisting painfully.
She wasn't sure why Adrian's opinion hurt more than her father's.
Sienna arrived behind Adrian with perfect timing—dressed in a glittering black dress, smug and radiant.
"Aww, poor Elena," she cooed falsely. "But Daddy's right. This house has a reputation. Go change."
Elena felt her throat tighten. Fighting back tears, she turned and went upstairs, her friends following in silent anger.
They helped her pick a simpler outfit—a soft cream blouse with fitted jeans, modest and sweet, beautifully Elena. But when Elena looked in the mirror again, she didn't feel glowing anymore. She felt dim.
"It's still beautiful," Grace said softly.
"You look like yourself," Mia whispered.
Elena smiled weakly. "That's enough."
When they came down, Sienna raised a brow but didn't comment. Adrian looked at Elena then—just for a moment—and something in his expression tightened. But he said nothing.
Soon everyone was heading to the cars.
Sienna hooked her arm through Adrian's, possessive as ever, guiding him to her shiny silver convertible.
Elena and her friends followed in another car, the ride filled with excited chatter—but Elena remained quiet, lost in thoughts she wished she didn't have.
The club was louder, darker, and more alive than anything she had ever experienced.
Lights shifted across the ceiling like chasing stars.
Music pulsed through her skin.
Perfume, sweat, laughter, glasses clinking—it all created a world she had never stepped into.
Her friends were already dancing.
Elena stood near the bar, absorbing the scene, trying not to look for Adrian.
But she didn't have to look long.
She saw him across the room, standing taller than the crowd, Sienna clinging to him like a warning sign.
Yet his eyes… kept drifting.
Not always.
Not constantly.
But enough.
Enough for Sienna to notice.
Enough for tension to spark.
Elena wasn't close enough to hear them—but their body language said everything.
Sienna's arms were crossed tightly.
Her brows furrowed.
Her voice was sharp, shouting something right into Adrian's face.
Adrian tried to calm her, hands slightly raised in explanation, but Sienna shoved his shoulder and yelled louder.
People started glancing.
Elena felt her stomach drop. She gripped her glass until her knuckles whitened. She couldn't hear Sienna's exact words, but she could read her lips.
"WHY DO YOU KEEP LOOKING AT HER?"
Her chest tightened painfully.
Adrian tried to speak, but Sienna cut him off.
"YOU NEVER LOOK AT ME THAT WAY!"
Her voice was sharp, trembling with anger and something deeper—fear, maybe.
Adrian grabbed her arm gently, trying to soothe her, but she snatched it away and turned abruptly, storming out of the club.
Adrian started to follow, but she pushed past security and disappeared into the street.
Elena felt her breath stutter. Her heart sank.
Sienna was gone.
Adrian stood at the exit, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated and worried. But he didn't chase her.
He came back inside, tense, jaw tight, searching the crowd… not for Sienna, but—
For Elena.
Their eyes locked from across the club.
A sting spread through her chest. She looked away first.
The night ended earlier than expected. Elena, her friends, Adrian, and her father's driver all returned home. But Sienna didn't.
She wasn't in her room.
She wasn't answering calls.
Her car wasn't outside.
Elena paced her room in panic. Her hands shook.
This is because of me.
Because she saw him looking at me.
Elena knew exactly where Sienna went.
When she was angry, when she felt threatened, when she felt unloved—
She always ran to the same place.
And now, Elena whispered to herself, heart breaking —
"I have to find her."
The night was cold when Elena reached the hill. The wind carried the smell of wet soil and pine, and the moon cast a silver glow across the narrow road. She parked the car carefully, her hands trembling as she stepped out. Her heart felt like it was beating somewhere in her throat, terrified of what she might find.
At the edge of the hill—on the stone fence where she always sat when she wanted to feel dramatic—Sienna was there.
But this time, she wasn't crying.
She wasn't angry.
She wasn't even shouting.
She was smoking.
A thin line of smoke curled upward, disappearing into the night sky.
Elena froze.
She had never—ever—seen her sister smoke. Sienna hated it. She lectured people who smoked. She would wave her hand dramatically whenever someone passed by with a cigarette. But tonight, she held one between her fingers as if it had always belonged there.
"Sienna…" Elena whispered.
Sienna didn't turn. She blew out a breath of smoke and flicked ash off the end like she'd done it a hundred times.
"Took you long enough," she muttered.
Elena approached slowly, her shoes crunching on gravel. "I was… worried."
"Of course you were," Sienna scoffed softly, but there was exhaustion in her voice. "Because you're you."
Elena sat beside her, leaving a safe space between them. The wind brushed her hair, her fingers cold against her knees.
After a long silence, Sienna spoke again. "I'm not used to losing. Especially not my place."
Elena's brows furrowed. "You didn't lose anything."
Sienna let out a bitter laugh. "Didn't I? You didn't see how he kept staring at you."
"I didn't ask him to," Elena replied gently.
"I know," Sienna said quietly. "That's what makes it worse."
Elena looked down at her hands, the moonlight making her skin glow pale. "Sienna… Adrian doesn't like me. I promise you, he doesn't."
Sienna finally turned, her eyes sharp and searching. "Then why did he keep watching you?"
Elena swallowed the ache rising inside her. "Because…" she whispered, "you were fighting. You were shouting. He wasn't looking at me the way you think."
"Oh? Then how was he looking at you?" Sienna demanded, though her voice had softened, hinting at insecurity instead of anger.
Elena took a deep breath. She had to choose her words carefully.
"Sienna," she said softly, "Adrian is protective. He's gentle. He's the kind of person who checks on everyone. And you know what he thinks of me?"
Sienna's eyes narrowed.
Elena forced a small smile. "He thinks I'm a child. He treats me like one."
"That's not true," Sienna said too quickly, jealousy returning for a split second.
But Elena continued, her voice steady. "He takes care of me because you told him I'm fragile. Because you told him I faint easily. Because you told him to look after me at the club. You think he looks at me differently, but it's not attraction. It's concern. The way someone older looks at someone younger."
Sienna dropped her gaze, the cigarette trembling slightly between her fingers.
Elena pressed on, her tone soft like a sister calming another. "He sees me as a little girl, Sienna. A little sister. Someone clumsy who gets lost, someone who forgets her phone, someone who needs help crossing the road." She forced a tiny laugh. "He literally told me that today."
Sienna stared at her, her expression slowly loosening, some of the tension melting away.
"You're saying he doesn't… like you?" she asked, voice small.
Elena nodded firmly. "No. Not at all. He's with you. Only you."
Sienna's lip quivered, but not in anger this time. "But why didn't he chase me?"
Elena reached over and gently took the cigarette from her sister's hand. Sienna didn't resist.
"Because he thought you needed space," Elena explained. "Because he didn't want to make you angrier. And because he wanted you to calm down before he talked to you."
Sienna blinked rapidly. Emotions flickered across her face—guilt, relief, fear.
Elena touched her shoulder lightly. "He came home worried, Sienna. Truly worried."
Sienna closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, as if letting go of a weight she'd been holding onto all night.
"Do you remember," Elena continued gently, "how you always said you wanted a man who would give you space when you're angry but still stay near enough to come back to?"
Sienna opened her eyes.
"That's Adrian," Elena whispered.
Silence stretched between them again, but it was different this time—softer, calmer, almost healing.
Sienna looked down at her hands. "I overreacted."
"You did," Elena admitted honestly. "But it's okay."
Sienna laughed a little, shaking her head. "God, I must have looked insane."
Elena smiled. "Just a little. But it was kinda dramatic. Very you."
Sienna nudged her shoulder gently, a faint smile finally forming. "Thanks. For coming here."
"Where else would I be?" Elena said softly.
Sienna's throat bobbed. "You don't hate me?"
"Hate you?" Elena repeated softly, eyes stinging. "I could never."
Sienna looked away, blinking fast. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you. You're too good, Elena."
"And sometimes," Elena said with a tiny grin, "I feel like you're too dramatic."
Sienna snorted and pushed her lightly. "Shut up."
They sat together for a few moments, the wind brushing past them, the night settling once the storm in both their chests began to fade.
Sienna finally stood, tossing the cigarette away. "Let's go home."
Elena stood too, dusting off her clothes.
But before she could walk toward the car, Sienna grabbed her wrist and turned her around.
"Elena," she said quietly, "if you ever feel something… about Adrian… you can tell me."
Elena's heart stopped for a beat.
But she forced herself to meet her sister's eyes and whispered softly, with a smile that hid a thousand wounds:
"There's nothing to tell."
Sienna studied her face for a second, then nodded, satisfied.
And Elena followed her back to the car—
holding her pain deep inside,
hidden beneath her steady steps,
buried where no one would ever see it.
Not even Sienna.
Not even Adrian.
Especially not herself.