Two Days Later
Today, we are going to my dad's dear sister's house. I am feeling both excited and a little angry. I was getting ready in my room.
I wore a white floral mini dress with a square neckline, adorned with flowers printed in shimmering colors. Beneath it, I wore peach-colored heels.
I looked at myself in the mirror—a large round mirror with a beautifully carved frame around it. I noticed that my black hair, left open, cascaded down to my shoulders and reached my waist. I had worn small black earrings.
My skin is fair, my nose is perfectly straight and small. My eyes are large and almond-shaped, their color hazel. My face is oval-shaped, and my cheekbones are high.
I was admiring my beauty in a beautiful mirror when I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps approaching my room.
My room was quite large, with walls painted in shades of white and peach. The white walls were decorated with neatly arranged green patterns, giving the room a soft and elegant touch.
It was a simple room, yet adorned with large windows from where a cool breeze could be felt. At the moment, they were covered with pale yellow curtains.
In one corner, there was a small pink-colored table, holding some items that were of no use to me (books). A large princess bed stood in the room, with a side table next to it, on which a lamp was placed.
One of my walls was covered with stickers—posters of famous singers. Against that same wall stood a wardrobe, filled with my clothes and my most favorite thing—my guitar.
I glanced into the mirror and realized that the footsteps belonged to my mother, who was standing there, dressed in a blue outfit.
My mom looked at me with a nervous expression and said,
"Leen! Are you ready? We need to leave."
As she spoke, she avoided making eye contact with me. Then, I heard her voice again as she walked closer, placed a hand on my shoulder, and looked directly at me.
"Leen, maybe a few days ago, I said too much to you. Please forgive me."
Hearing her words, I immediately understood why she was acting this way. She was afraid that I might say something reckless at Freya's house.
Thinking about it only made my anger grow, but I swallowed my frustration, turned around, and forced a sweet smile as I spoke in a soft voice,
"Mom, I'm sorry! Maybe it was my fault. I shouldn't have said anything like that… (Actually, I shouldn't have said nothing—I should have given a full speech!)"
My mom looked at me with sparkling eyes (ugh, I can't stand that shine). Then she said,
"Leen, I'm sorry. But you shouldn't have done that to that girl. I trust that you won't do anything like this again in the future."
After saying that, she kissed my forehead while looking at me with those glowing eyes again.
I didn't want to talk to her. I was still angry, but I had to put on this act for the sake of uncovering the truth about that room.
So, I looked at my mom and said,
"Mom, we should get going, or else we'll be late."
She smiled and replied,
"Hmm."
Then, as we stepped outside and walked toward the car, I asked my mom,
"Where is Dad?"
She looked at me with a smile and said,
"Oh! Dad? He won't be able to come. He had some important work, so he's out right now."
I glanced at her and said, "Oh!" Then, pushing my act a little further, I added dramatically,
"I wanted to apologize to him too…"
My voice carried a hint of fake disappointment.
Hearing this, my mom reassured me,
"Oh! Your dad isn't angry with you. You can apologize to him later."
I didn't say anything in response. Instead, I just walked ahead and got into the car.
Mom started the car, driving away from the bright, chaotic streets filled with crowds and all kinds of different people. Slowly, the city noise faded as we entered a peaceful and serene place.
This area was surrounded by trees. There were houses here, but the atmosphere was calm and comforting. The moon and stars were crystal clear in the sky, shining brightly and spreading a sense of tranquility.
As I soaked in this peaceful feeling, we finally arrived at Freya's house.
Freya's house was a simple one, completely different from the grandeur of her status and reputation.
It was a small yet lovely home, surrounded by trees covered in red flowers, which looked breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlight.
The walls of her house were white, adorned with colorful balloon-shaped patterns, giving off a playful and refreshing energy.
Inside the house lived Freya along with a few staff members.
Unlike the extravagant world tied to her name and career, this house stood in contrast—a peaceful escape from her busy, chaotic life, offering her a sense of calm and serenity.