Manhattan State of Mind

   An endless skyline that gave million hopes and dreams, skyscrapers that made you believe everything was possible, the endless lights that made you hope one day you will shine just as bright. It was New York, her New York, the endless-never-sleeping city.

  Avery Vanderviere’s dreamy blue eyes watched the city landscape through the window plane. She remembered what it was like every time she came back here from a holiday. The longest she’d ever been outside the city was for two months during the summer, never for almost a year. And she planned to stay away from here longer but she couldn’t, she needed to flee as fast as she could. It was ironic, because that’s exactly how she left, she thought that the city brought out the worst in her, but the only person who brought it out was herself. Even after she fled the city her self-destructing habits stayed with her. A change in scenery did help, but right now she wondered if it was enough to keep her on the right track.

  After the plane landed and she got her luggage, Avery stepped outside on New York ground. In her hand she was holding the newest issue of the magazine, that dedicated itself to following the lives of the royal families. Usually, she would just roll her eyes and pass it, but she right now she needed to see what she missed. Of course gossip magazines weren’t the most reliable source of information, but most of the things here were true, or just taken out of the context.

  She breathed in deeply, feeling the air filling her lungs, and let a cough escape her mouth from the polluted air. She was finally home! It may not be Switzerland’s green mountains, and crisp air, but it was her home. And her home did not involve clean lungs and fresh breeze, it involved the smell of a French perfume, taxi and towncar gas vapors.

  Avery stepped with one foot on the street, just before she reached out her hand. Was it because she hailed a cab like the true New Yorker she was, or because she was a blonde in tight leather pants, but two taxis stopped in front of her. Of course for the drivers it was important to know which one she chose, but for her there wasn’t any difference, so she hoped into the nearest one. How she missed the smell of cabs, and the feeling of the leather seats. Avery sat herself on the cushions and took out the magazine from her flap bag.

-Madison and fi…-  The first page caught her attention, there was a picture of her mom, who looked just like Avery only with more botox and a tighter hair style. Intrigued why her mom was on the first page, she kept reading. �" Actually, make that the Four Seasons.

   Catherine & Richard DuPont’s First Gala Dinner… Of course she knew that her mother was married, she was even offered the position of a maid of honor, but couldn’t make it to the wedding because of a fake flu. Normally, if a teenage girl found out her mother was marrying the king, she would be ecstatic, but not Avery. She was already a princess anyway, and her mother jumped off from a man to another so quickly, that she didn’t even knew who her father was. She doubted that her mother knew too. So what was the point of showing up to the wedding, seeing everyone she wanted to be away from, being In the city she ran away from, when the marriage was going to last no longer than a tour around The Met?

   Avery rolled down the window to pop her head through it and watch as she moved through the streets she only saw on the way back from or to the airport. The surroundings were a bit unfamiliar to her and other than the Brooklyn Bridge, she couldn’t tell what was what. But still as the car was passing the bridge, she smiled at the feeling of the wind blowing her hair, feeling the air brush against her skin, the last sun rays hit her head. She just wanted to scream on top of her lungs ‘I’m coming home!’. Everything was going to be just like old times, only better because now she wasn’t the old self-destructing Avery, she was a new positive person.

   It wasn’t until the taxi entered Manhattan that she started recognizing buildings. The car took a turn on Park Avenue, where the glass buildings caught in their reflections the last rays of sunshine for the day, just like Avery’s hair.

  There were the stores, where she and her fellow-princess of a best friend spent afternoons shopping. Her heart leaped, when she passed the house of the only person she wanted to see more than anything right now, she almost stopped herself from asking the driver to stop, and running to the door. The only thing that stopped her was knowing that, that particular person would be at the gala dinner too. And not far away from there, was the coffee shopped she spent hours with that particular person.

   Couple of apartment buildings downwards the car took a left turn. She could tell they were emerging the building because there were limousines parked all over the street. And there was her destination squeezed in between a jewelry store, and a department store, which reminded her for how long she went without bought any new clothes. A few of her mother’s guests were outside smoking cigarettes, at least she assumed they were here for the dinner because of their gowns.  Avery paid the driver and got out of the car, the driver yelled at her “Miss, Miss”, but she kept walking towards the hotel’s entrance. She didn’t feel like she was walking on New York ground again until she stepped on one of the city’s hot spots on the way to a black-tie party. 

  The bouncer at the door stopped her as he reached his hand in front of her

-That’s okay, I’m part of the family. �" Avery tried to push his hand away but he was stronger than she thought.

-You aren’t dressed properly. Ms. DuPont was certain, when she told me to not let anyone disrespecting the dress code inside. �" To be fair, It did sound like her mother.

-But…I’m her daughter! �" Avery let out a squeak, she was about to dig up her ID from the bag, until she was practically pushed away, with an outraged whine. The smoking crowd let out few giggles. To be honest, her crocodile skin trench coat, and leopard-print-knee-high boots gave more of a chic-fashion-blogger kind of vibe, rather than a daughter-of-the-queen-on-the-way-to-a-black-tie-gala.

  Was he even allowed to push her aside like that, after all she was the king’s step daughter? Not that she wanted to play the princess card, but still. Only one of the royal families would be able to close one of New York’s hotspots that housed hundreds of visitors for a dinner.

  Now what? She wasn’t even allowed to go to her own mother’s dinner because she wasn’t dressed properly. Of course, if only she had called her mother earlier to tell her she was coming home, but it would’ve ruined the big surprise, and it was a little spontaneous. She wasn’t even planning on coming back home until…This morning, actually.

  And all of a sudden she got an idea. While passing her mother’s couture-clad smoking friends she felt them giving her nasty looks. Just wait few more minutes and I’ll be the one giving you dirty looks, the blonde thought as she smiled to herself.

   A doorman opened the doors to a clothing paradise, a sales lady greeted her on the entrance, trying to hide her excitement for seeing princess Avery after a year long absence.

-Evening gown, clutch, matching jewelry and a scarf. Charge it all on Catherine DuPont �" Avery ordered the sales lady and handed her the ID as she headed towards the dressing rooms. Being away from the glitz and glamour for a year, she thought that maybe she would forget how to speak Fashion, but as it turns out when given the opportunity you could speak this elegant language perfectly. �"Oh, and you better remove the tags because I am going to wear them now.

   When she sat on a cushion in front of the dressing rooms a sales lady handed her a glass of champagne, from which Avery gladly took a thirsty sip. How she missed the taste of Dom and the smell of Italian leather. The girl took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, she bought on the way to the airport, from her bag and lit one. Officially, she told herself she would stop when she got home, but a little smoke before the party to ease her excitement won’t hurt anyone.

-Miss we don’t smoke in here. �" The sales lady who handed her the champagne said. Or maybe it will.

   Avery took the cigarette out of her mouth for a brief moment.

-Well, now you smoke in here. �" A thing she learned from her best friend and her now-step-brother was that if you say or do something with the needed confidence you can get away with anything, and just hint who your parents are. Especially if you are a young blonde with long legs and short skirt, but the last one only worked with men, and for some weird reason had the opposite effect on women.

-Yes, Miss. - The woman said, and after less than a minute she was back with an ashtray. �"More champagne, miss? �" She asked when she saw that Avery’s glass was now empty.

  When you haven’t had a taste of something you love for a long period after you consume it again you can’t stop, and that was Avery’s situation right now. During those long twelve months, the first three were spent dreaming of cliquote and Grey Goose, until she was allowed to go out and her gorgeous special friend started giving her monthly gifts in the form of perfumes. She had a totally new opinion about Marc Jacobs Daisy. He was surprised how little a perfume bottle could last.

   To answer the question Avery just handed the woman her empty glass and not after very long it was replaced with a full one. Just when the sales lady from the entrance came with black and white shopping bags, that were placed inside one of the dressing rooms. Since she couldn’t go inside the dressing room with a champagne glass, Avery drained her glass.

   The blonde girl took off her clothing and replaced them with a silver beaded mini, that had long silk turquoise veils wrapped around. The veils went from around the left shoulder, over the right part of her top half, around the waist like a belt, and to the floor, falling like a waterfall. Since the dress had a busy neckline, the lady had given her platinum cuffs. Her mother had taught her that it was unacceptable to go to a night-time event without a hair do, since Avery didn’t want to be rejected from her mother’s engagement party again, she quickly French braided her hair gathering it on the back of her head and securing it with a colorful silk scarf. Her old clothing went into the shopping bags. Without meaning to be dramatic, she pulled away the curtains standing in the middle of the dressing room looking like a goddess.

-Gorgeous! - Both sales ladies stood in awe as Avery walked out of the door. It wasn’t clear if they were sincere or kissing her a*s.

-Thanks. �" Avery smiled warmly, much unlike the person who stormed in the store, started ordering around, and breaking the rules.

-My ID, please. �" Avery said and one of the salesladies gave her back the card. It wasn’t unlikely to have someone storm into a store, and ask to have a crazy-expensive outfit charged on a royal’s account. - Have a marvelous evening. �" Something about the dress made her feel sophisticated and felt like her look deserved a sophisticated behavior (at least for now), like she didn’t just drank two champagne glasses on one sip, and smoked. She walked out of the store leaving the salesladies staring in awe as the veils bounced behind her. She felt very Carrie Bradshaw-esque with the evening breeze, and dress brushing against her legs.

   With the same sophistication Avery walked up to the bouncer again, pretending it wasn’t her second trial to entering her own mother’s party. Again putting her theory in action, acting with confidence, like she was born to be there, made you look less suspicious.

-Avery . �" Avery said with her most English-like accent that she could fake. English people were always sophisticated, and got invited to important royal events.

-Are you family? �" The bouncer asked.

-Yes, yes I am. �" Avery kept her cool and without checking the list the bouncer just opened the door.

  Finally she was let in. A breeze blew as the blonde walked inside the hotel. She turned to face the smoking crowd and smiled in a way that said ‘Now who is looking down on who”.

  Her first stop was the reception desk, where she had to leave her bags.

-Excuse me? �" She leaned over the desk, where the receptionist was playing on his phone. Was that what visitors paid for? The man lifted his sight from his phone, and looked at her questionably. How dare she interrupt his porn, or game, or whatever was amusing him.

-Are you here for the party? �" He asked, and she nodded. �" The ball room is…

-I know where the ball room is. �" Avery interrupted him without trying to sound arrogant, but for real every person who was probably invited had to know where the ball room is. �" I wanted to ask if I could leave my things here till the end?

  The man nodded, and pointed over few cushions behind his desk overflowing with coats, and bags, each had tags with family names.

-To whom should I leave them? �" He asked as he perused through a guest list that was sitting on top of the desk.

-Vanderviere. �" Avery said confidently. It had a nice ring to it, if pronounced correctly of course.

  The receptionist scanned the list few times, than looked at her with pity.

-Sorry miss, but there is no one on the list with that name.

  Even so, wasn’t he supposed to recognize her name. Everyone knew who the Hastings’, and the Hamiltons were, just because her mother changed her last name, doesn’t mean their family name was gone.

-Then, the DuPonts. �" She couldn’t believe she was using this name as an reference to herself. Avery DuPont, she shrugged at that thought, it sounded fake, and just not right. What was so wrong with Vanderviere, that her mother decided to change it?

  The man looked at her skeptically, as she was some kind of poseur who wanted to sit at one table with the high class.

-Are you sure?

  Avery narrowed her eyes, truly sorry for what she was about to say, but she was horrified by the anger in her voice. Her words came out loudly, ice cold, and she even hissed some of them.

-Don’t know where you’ve been for the big part of your life, but if you don’t know than let me enlighten you. I am Avery.Freaking.Vanderviere. The daughter of Catherine Vanderviere, who married the king and know is Catherine DuPont. But that doesn’t mean that the name Vanderviere should be forgotten, it should still be respected as much as the other three families, and when someone comes and says that their name is Vanderviere, you know that they are not on the list because royalties don’t need to be on freaking lists. Now if you’ll be that kind to put these backs over there, with a tag that says Vanderviere. V.A.N.D.E.R.V.I.E.R.E. �" On the bright side, Avery could spell her name correctly but her tongue got tied whenever she tried to spell it out loud letter by letter. In fact when she was little, she used to spell it Vandervie , so it would be easier for her to pronounce it, and frankly she wasn’t sure how to spell it, so she just wrote it like she called it. Who the hell decided that there should be so many letters in there, when most of them were silent?

  The receptionist blinked as Avery slid her bags on the desk.

-Thank you. �" She smiled politely.

  As she took a turn towards the corridor leading to the ball room, she heard him hiss ‘princesses’ under his breath. Avery’s mouth formed an outraged ‘o’. It wasn’t like she was a snobby stuck up princess, unlike some people. It was just the anger she had towards her mother came out. At least she took it out on somebody else, instead of on herself.

  She passed through the white and gold corridors, she thought what would happen when she saw all of her friends. She hadn’t seen Eric since he was just Eric DuPont, one of her closest friends, and now he was supposed to be her step brother. Or Beatrice, the last time they didn’t exactly part off on good terms, but it was more than a year ago, she was sure that by now it passed. Besides, Beatrice was infamous for her passive aggressive-ness, and anger outbursts.

  Who knew back that the day she decided to come home, it would be her mother’s first gala dinner for her new family. She didn’t have anything against Eric, just she didn’t imagine him as a step brother. Probably he would steal her underwear and sneak in the bathroom while she was showering.

  It all seemed surrealistic. Avery imagined that when she entered the ball room, there would be no gala thrown by her mother, and her new husband, just two high society people having a small get-together with 200 of their closets friends in one of the most luxurious hotels, like any normal upper-east-siders. But she was wrong.

 

  The two guards standing on both sides of the door opened the gates to her new life. She knew that it might be hard to come back home after a year and wanted things to be the way they were, but that was impossible now.

  Many people who have entered this ball room before may have thought that the gates to an amazing life were opening but for Avery they looked more like hell’s gates. She tried to prepare herself for what might be inside, as if she was entering hell for real.

  The moment the white-and-gold doors opened they revealed New York’s elite seated on one table spread across the room, a sound of a dropping fork was heard, two people who were toasting spilled a little bit of champagne. There were some of her mother’s friends on one side of the table, on the other side were probably Richard ‘s friends, there was Beatrice’s mother next to a gallery investor, at one end of the table was her mother, it was hard to say what she was thinking because of the botox, next to her was Mr.DuPont himself. Brendon Hamilton was seated between his parents, some of his mother’s old friends from school. Somewhere in the middle of the table were Eric and Beatrice Hastings. Avery tried to avoid Beatrice’s ice cold look, she felt that every time their eyes met an ice spear penetrated her heart.

  For about a minute the whole room stood quiet, too quiet.

 

Author's Note

Please, share your opinion. As a newbie, I am really interested to know if my writing has potential or is bad. Please bare with me, since I don't come from an English-speaking country.