is there. Instead I’m greeted as a guest by the dark-outfitted rented staff, given a random mask and pointed upstairs. I slip on the Phantom of the Opera style mask and head up the main staircase.
The party is in full swing already, judging by the intensely loud music and the two older ladies giggling and clutching at each other for balance as they try to make it down the stairs. As I make it up the last couple of steps, I can actually feel the entire second floor vibrating.
At the top I stop and stare. The ballroom doors are thrown open and the party is so packed that it’s spilling out into the hall. Men in tuxes yell into the ears of ladies in ballgowns. Everyone wears a mask up here, including the bartenders at the bar set up just outside the ballroom doors.
The liquor is flowing freely too, from the looks of it. Feeling too uptight to party, I head into the ballroom, shuffling and maneuvering to get past the crowd at the door. Inside, the jazz music is bright and tinny sounding, but I suppose that’s probably on purpose. The lights are lower here by the door and brighter over by the windows.
Everywhere I can see, there are costumed people dancing and chatting. As I move through the ballroom, I look around for someone I know, starting to feel a bit desperate. It’s harder than usual, which is I guess the point of a masquerade ball.
And then I see her.
Without question, I know it’s Olivia. She is wearing a simple black dress, fitted and full length with thick straps. She pushes a strand of her sleek brown hair back as she stands by the wall, talking to a man in a tux. Her simple white mask is blocking her expression, but I can tell by her body language that the man is hitting on her.
I can tell she doesn’t like it.
As I start to push my way through the crowd towards her, I see the man grab her arm, lean in, and try to kiss her. She makes a face and turns her head slightly, avoiding direct contact between their mouths.
That’s when I start seeing red.
Fuck anyone who touches her against her will.
Fuck any guy that touches her and isn’t me.
As I start plowing my way through the crowd, I see her protest as the guy tries to pull her closer.
“Stop!” she yelps. “Seriously, you don't even know me—”
“If you would just—”
That’s all the guy manages to say before I get close enough to yank him off of her. Olivia’s eyes widen when she sees me and takes in my expression.
“Aiden—”
“Hey!” the guy complains.
I punch him right in the nose, knocking him down to the floor. He makes a startled sound and holds his face; bright red blood starts to bloom on his face.
“Aiden!” Olivia says, looking tense. She rushes to my side, tugging at my arm.
I glance at her, then back to the guy on the floor, who is just now getting surly.
“Who the fuck are you?” he yells.
I step closer, ignoring Olivia’s hand on my arm. “You don't fucking touch her,” I tell him. “You don't touch anybody unless they ask you to, you fucking asshole.”
“I didn’t do anything!” he cries, holding his nose.
“Bullshit,” I tell him. “I saw it all. And if you think that I’m the only one who would’ve stepped in, you’re wrong. You can’t just step all over a girl nowadays and expect that no one will stop you.”
Olivia makes a frustrated noise. “Seriously, Aiden—”
“Okay! Okay.” I take a step back, gripping Olivia’s waist. My gaze meets hers. “I’ll go if you go with me.”
“Yes,” she says, tugging me toward the door of the ballroom. “I’m going with you.”
I let her pull me away with one last glare at the man, who is just now getting to his feet. Then he’s gone, obscured by the dancers and chatters that stand in between me and the wall. Turning toward the doorway, I step in front of her to make a path.
Soon we are out of the ballroom. I don't stop there on the landing, though. I grab Olivia by the waist and halfway carry her down the stairs, not stopping until we hit the front door. There are a few people who drunkenly watch as I pin Olivia to the outside of the house. A few people see me roughly kiss her, forcing my lips down on hers.
No one says anything though, because