DANDELIONs

LILY POV

The ballroom glittered like a scene from one of my mothers old films. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light over the crowd, and the air buzzed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional exaggerated compliment. My parents’ 25th anniversary party was in full swing, and everyone who was anyone had shown up.Everyone, that is, except me.Not that anyone noticed.

I stood in the shadow of the grand staircase, a plate of hors daoeuvres balanced precariously in one hand. At 5 '4 ft and 68 kilograms, I wasnt exactly hard to spot, but somehow, I had perfected the art of blending into the background. A talent my family had noticed but never in a way that mattered.

You are so unremarkable my older sister, Clara, had once said, her voice laced with pity and amusement. But at least you are good at being invisible.

I popped a mini quiche into my mouth, chewing slowly as I scanned the room.There they were my family, my perfectly extraordinary family.

My father, the renowned artist, held court near the fireplace, his booming laughter echoing through the hall.

My mother, the celebrated actress, floated between guests, flashing her signature, camera-ready smile.

Clara, the prodigy pianist, sat at the grand piano, fingers dancing across the keys, enchanting the room.

Elise, my younger sister and rising supermodel, posed effortlessly for photos, surrounded by admirers.

And then there was me.The dandelion in a garden of roses.Ordinary. Unremarkable. Utterly out of place. who is that girl I overheard a man whisper to his companion, his gaze flicking in my direction. I think she is one of the staff,the woman replied, not even bothering to lower her voice.I swallowed the lump in my throat along with the last bite of quiche. It was not the first time someone had mistaken me for staff, and it probably would not be the last. My parents had stopped introducing me at events years ago. And really, I could not blame them.

What would they even say? This is our middle daughter. She is well, she is here.

I used to wonder if I was adopted. How could I possibly belong to a family of such extraordinary people?

My father paintings hung in galleries across the world.

My mother performances had won prestigious awards.

Clara had mastered Mozart by six and performed at elite venues.

Elise had been scouted at fourteen and graced magazine covers.

And me? I was just me. No talent. No milestones. No reason for anyone to remember my name.

But I did have one skill.

Blending in.

It was not something anyone celebrated, but it had its advantages. Like now, for instance standing in the shadows, I heard things I was not supposed to hear. Secrets whispered behind cupped hands. Conversations meant to stay private.

That's how I knew:

My father was considering retirement, though he hadn't told anyone.

My mother was planning a comeback, though she had not announced it yet.

But there was one secret I had known for years, one no one else in this room suspected.

Clara was dating Eden Blackwood.

The knowledge sat heavy in my chest, like it always did whenever I saw them steal glances at each other, whenever Clara left the house late at night, whenever Edens gaze lingered on her just a second too long.

No one else knew. Not our parents, not the press, not even Edens family. Clara had made sure of that. Her career came first, and being tied to Eden Blackwood would only invite scandal and distractions.

But I knew.And worst of all?Clara knew that I knew.

She also knew about my crush on Eden.

It was stupid, childish, and completely hopeless, but that did not stop it from existing.

It had started years ago, when I was fifteen"the first time I had seen him in a suit, standing next to his grandfather, looking sharp, powerful, and untouchable. He was five years older, effortlessly confident, and completely unaware of me.

Just like everyone else.

You have a crush on Eden, don't you ?Clara had teased one afternoon when we were younger, her eyes glinting with amusement. That's so adorable, Lily. But lets be honest, you know he will never notice you, right?I had pretended it didn't sting.

But the truth was, I had already known that.And now, years later, I had to watch her be the one he wanted. The one he chose.Even if the world didn't know it, I did.And somehow, that made it worse.

As I turned to slip away unnoticed, I felt a pair of eyes on me.

The sensation sent a shiver down my spine something heavy, intense. It was unlike the dismissive glances I was used to.

I hesitated, slowly scanning the room, but everyone was either too preoccupied or too enchanted by Claras grand moment.Still, the feeling persisted.

A strange sense of awareness prickled my skin, like I was being watched.

Not ignored.

Not overlooked.

But seen.

I shook the thought away, convincing myself I was imagining things.

After all, who would bother watching the invisible girl?