The Dinner and the don - I

Her family was either really playing it safe or they were dangerously over the edge. The dress that they had decided for her was almost a white colour But it had a hint of pink to it. If anyone looked at her from afar, They would assume that she was wearing a silverish White dress.

It was almost like Joyce was being sent to the party dressed as a bride more than just an attendant.

Her hair were kept straight behind her back and she was wearing silver High heels along with a matching clutch.

Her brother was kind enough to help her downstairs. She was not someone who walked in heels daily and attempting to climb down at least 20 stairs was not easy.

"You look beautiful, Sister." Declan winked. "Anyway you can get dressed like this daily?"

Joyce snickered. "you wish. Do you know how long I have to sit still for this?"

She did not know the exact time. But it was long enough for her to get cramps in her back and her legs.

"Well, mother and father have already left. You know you are to enter together. Ready to go?" He trusted his arm into his direction, which Joyce gratefully.

"Let's go." She answered shakily. It was not exactly the best scenario that she would be stepping into. My father was practically going to be in front of everyone for an alliance.

If it was not going to be Adrian Murphy, that it was going to be another fish for sure.

Declan, thankfully, did not let go of her hand. She probably knew that she was nervous for tonight. Of course she was, the first time that she was going to attend any of this was the first time she was going to be shown off to people.

Lights were the first thing she noticed. Then came the Flashes. It was no brain and that those were the paparazzi. People she had heard about and was going to meet for the first time. Her face was going to get noticed and definitely printed.

Fucking Jesus.

"Are you ready, Sister?" Declan asked, whispering in her ear. "I can make the car go around once more if you want."

As much as Joyce wanted that to happen, that would take her nowhere. It would only feed into her anxiety more.

"No," she whispered, "let's go ahead."

Declan's door was opened first. Then he came to her side to open her door and held his hand out for her to take.

Placing her feet on the carpeted ground together, she got out of the car with her clutch against her chest.

Sliding her hand up from his hand to his elbow, Grace worked with him as both of them ignored the paparazzi.

"Who is she, Mr O'Sullivan?" The question came out of almost every reporter's mouth and she could feel herself itching to slap all of them. Was it difficult to tell that they were related when they had almost the same facial features?

Declan stopped and leaned into one of the mikes thrusted into his direction. "My sister." He answered.

The crowd immediately went up in roars but they ignored the people that continued to flash the cameras at them. It was almost scary to watch them all fight against one another to get that one perfect shot that they could sell to the highest bidder tomorrow.

Wednesday made it inside and were no longer in the sight of the paparazzi, Joyce leaned against her brother.

"You did well, Sister." He rubbed her back. "Very well."

"Thanks." Joyce nodded against his chest. Her voice was a little shaky but she was grateful for his support nonetheless.

They heard footsteps come and go, quite near them which made her heartbeat spike again. "We have to go now." Declan sounded reluctant.

They have to, their parents were waiting already.

She turned into the direction where they were supposed to walk in and Declan whispered in her ear, "you will be amazing, sister."

Once again on the red carpet that stretched towards another entrance of a grand ballroom where she could see people standing together and a soft murmur that went around the room.

Eyes turned her way. Some retreated back and some did not. They followed her until she reached her parents.

"Darling," Brianna smiled, "you look beautiful."

Joyce gave her a smile, a practised smile before dipping her eyes to the floor and averting them away shyly.

Humility.

"People are talking about you." Her father looked around, his eyes sharp as ever, never relenting for anything. They then snapped to her own. "I don't want you drinking too much, Joyce."

She nodded. "Yes, father."

Obedience.

"He is here." Her mother commented, as she fixed something that was not even there on her father's jacket.

"Good," Killian grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Joyce, Standby your father's side. Your left profile is better."

Beauty.

Joyce stared at the ring on her mothers left hand, the one that imprisoned her to her father.

Sometimes, all of it was for nothing.