Dolores stood in front of her large mirror, looking absolutely haggard as she stared at her reflection in complete surrender.
She was done.
For who knew how long, she had been trying to find something to wear for dinner later, and now she was running out of time.
With a defeated sigh, she slouched, hands resting on her waist, then slowly turned to look at the disaster she had created.
Her once neat and spotless room was now in a mess. Clothes were everywhere, draped over chairs, hanging off the bed, crumpled across the floor. Not a single spot had been spared.
"Ugh, why is it so hard to find something to wear?" she groaned.
"I can't even find one nice outfit."
Adrian had specifically told her to wear something nice.
And that was exactly the problem.
She couldn't find anything that makes her look nice, decent and effortlessly pretty.
'It's all my fault,' she cried internally.
In her rush to escape her Momzilla's house, she had not packed properly. All she had brought were pajamas and casual clothes.
And now she had nothing to wear for the occasion.
"Why is Llana so tall and so thin? None of her clothes fit me," Dolores complained, on the verge of tears.
She looked down at herself and pinched her stomach.
"I'm pregnant with fats," she muttered dramatically, rubbing it absentmindedly. "I really need to go on a diet."
"Yes. Starting tomorrow, I'll diet and exercise."
She made another promise to herself for the nth time.
If Llana heard her, she would definitely roll her eyes.
"Speaking of… how am I supposed to go alone?" Dolores suddenly whined. "Can't I just wait for her here? Why do I have to go ahead? I'm not an independent...girl."
"What if I got lost?"
"What if I got kidnapped? I'm a fine girl they will definitely try to trade me."
"What I got robbed?...well, they can try. I Don't have any anyway."
She paused.
"....Llana really doesn't love me anymore"
Dolores turned back to the mirror, striking a series of exaggerated cute poses. "Didn't she even consider the situation of her cutest and prettiest friend?"
"Who is this cute and pretty girl in the mirror?" she giggled, playfully clawing at her reflection. "It's me."
She laughed loudly.
"Why am I so blessed with this appearance? I'm really favored."
Then she suddenly paused.
"…Wait. Back to business."
Her gaze swept across the room once more until it landed on a simple white round neck shirt with a small paw print on the chest.
She stared at it.
"…No."
"…But Adrian said something nice…"
Slowly, she walked over, picked it up, and held it against herself in front of the mirror.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Wait… this would suit with…"
She began scanning the room again before her gaze landed on a black washed wide denim pants she had taken from Llana's walk in closet.
"This."
The pants were too long for her, earlier but she already sewed it. Llana would not mind anyway. That girl barely cared about her belongings. Dolores could probably take the most expensive item she owned and Llana would simply wave her off, as long as she did not touch the things she kept for sentimental reasons.
Everything else was good to take.
At this rate, Llana might even give away her undergarments if asked. Not that Dolores would ever stoop that low. She had her own, and besides, there was no way Llana's would even fit her.
Without further hesitation, she quickly changed into the outfit she had chosen.
Standing in front of the mirror, she examined herself carefully.
"Wait… I think it would look better if I tuck this in…"
She adjusted the shirt, smoothing it neatly into the waistband of the pants.
Then she stepped back.
"Tada!"
She gave herself a small twirl, a smile slowly spread across her face.
"Adrian said to wear something nice… and this is nice."
She nodded in satisfaction.
"Wait. I should take a picture."
She grabbed her phone from the bed and returned to the mirror, only to freeze when she saw the chaos behind her reflected on the screen.
With a deep sigh, she bent down and hurriedly picked up the scattered clothes, shoving them back into the closet without much care.
She would fold them properly later.
Maybe next month.
Once she was done, she clapped her hands lightly and admired her now presentable room.
'Much better.' Dolores smiled.
Just then, her alarm rang.
Dolores froze, her eyes widened.
Without another second of hesitation, she grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes, and rushed out of the room.
___
(Inside the taxi)
Dolores leaned back against the seat, staring out the window.
How was she supposed to say it?
It might be hard to admit, but...
it seemed like she had finally met her match.
Her gaze shifted briefly to the elderly driver, who had not stopped talking since she got in.
She had never felt this tired just from listening to someone.
Was this how Llana felt whenever she talked?
She had never realized it could be this exhausting. Even someone as bright and cheerful as her had to admit defeat.
"Parents nowadays are too lenient," the driver continued, clicking his tongue. "Letting their kids go out alone like this."
At first, he had talked about his work. How tiring it was. How difficult life had been. Then he moved on to his family, how he met his wife, and countless other stories.
It felt like she had just sat through his entire life story, longer than José Rizal's biography combined with Noli Me Tangere, El Filibusterismo, and the entirety of Philippine history, all in one exhausting sitting, with no intermission and a bonus lecture she definitely hadn't signed up for.
And now, he had found yet another topic.
"How old are you, kid?" he asked.
"…Fifteen, sir," Dolores answered reluctantly. It would be rude not to respond. The man was talkative, but he was kind. Ignoring him would feel disrespectful.
"Fifteen? You look like you're twelve," he said, glancing at her through the mirror.
"Are you really going to Caelestis?"
"Yes."
"Lots of people go there these days, trying their luck," he continued. "They say that restaurant is not easy to get into."
He shook his head slightly.
"Kid, I'm telling you, you should not copy what you see from others. Some people go there just to show off that they're rich. Do not waste your parents' money. I'm telling you…"
Dolores slowly leaned her head against the window, her eyes drifting back to the passing scenery.
She had a feeling this conversation was far from over.
But at least she learned something.
It seemed that the place they were going to eat at wasn't just an ordinary diner.
She wondered what their food would taste like.
It didn't take long before they arrived, and honestly, she felt a bit relieved when they finally did.
As she stepped out of the car, she couldn't help but gape.
The place looked expensive, intimidating even, as if every detail had been carefully crafted to display wealth and elegance.
Dolores swallowed, suddenly feeling small as she stood before it.
At the entrance, what caught her attention first was a wide structure that served as a grand, wall-like logo, a carefully designed centerpiece. At its center was the name Caelestis Restaurant, displayed in gleaming silver, as if it had been etched into the surface itself. The letters shimmered under soft lighting, while gentle streams of water flowed around it, adding a sense of motion and life to its elegant design.
Dolores took a step forward, gathering what little courage she had left to enter.
She had barely reached the entrance when a man in a crisp black suit stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
"This establishment isn't for children." His gaze swept over her from head to toe, lingering briefly on her clothes, making her self-conscious.
"I suggest you leave," he added, his voice calm but firm. "This place is not for someone of your status."
"And what kind of status is that?" Dolores frowned. She didn't like how the man openly mocked her. His tone might have been polite, but his eyes said otherwise. He didn't even try to hide the disdain in them.
The man paused, then let out a faint, almost amused breath. "Do you have a reservation? We don't let anyone in without one."
'Reservation?'
"Wait… let me ask." Her voice lost some of its earlier firmness as she quickly pulled out her phone, dialing Adrian's number under the man's scrutinizing gaze.
But the call didn't connect. She tried again but still nothing. One by one, she called the others, but every line was busy. Even Llana didn't pick up.
The Doberman watched her the entire time, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. There was a certain amusement in his eyes, as if he had seen this exact scene play out countless times before, desperate people trying their luck, making up stories, hoping to slip inside.
"Let me guess," he said, his tone laced with quiet mockery. "Your brothers are already inside? Important people, I assume?"
Dolores clenched her phone tighter but said nothing.
"I see this more often than you think," he continued. "People dressing up, pretending they belong, hoping no one notices."
His gaze dropped to her clothes again, slower this time, his lips twitching slightly. "At least the others make an effort."
"But this isn't the kind of place you can bluff your way into."
Before Dolores could respond, the soft click of heels approached from behind.
A woman in an elegant red evening gown paused a few steps away with a man in a tailored suit beside her. The faint scent of expensive perfume lingered as they stopped near them.
The woman tilted her head slightly, her voice low but not low enough.
"Another one?" she murmured, glancing briefly in Dolores's direction before looking away, as if she had already lost interest
The man beside her let out a quiet chuckle. "It's getting more common lately."
"They are really.... unpleasant," the woman added, smoothing an invisible crease on her dress. "It's embarrassing… lowering the atmosphere"
Neither of them looked at Dolores again, as if she were no longer worth acknowledging.
"Good evening, ma'am. Sir. May I have your reservation name?" the Doberman asked, his tone instantly shifting to polished respect.
The woman gave her name.
Hearing it the Doberman spoke quietly into his earpiece, waited for confirmation, then stepped aside at once.
"Welcome. Please, enjoy your evening."
"Your brothers must be fooling you," the man said as he turned back to her, the politeness gone again. "Or perhaps… you're the one fooling yourself."
"I suggest you leave."
Dolores bit down on her teeth, feeling humiliated.
She could feel the sting behind her eyes, but she forced it down.
She lowered her gaze and was about to turn away when a familiar voice rang making her stop.
"Is there a problem here?"