CHAPTER ONE
Anna was sixteen when the woman first came to town. She was visiting her father at work at Oaken's, Arendelle's most renowned high-end bar that also served as an extravagant casino. Years ago it was a modest bar, a cheap place to score some cheap beer. When the previous owner's son took over, however, he took loan after loan to renovate and remodel the place into the grand display of gambling and alcoholic splendor that it is today. It paid off tenfold.
The inside was dimly lit, splashed with white and cyan lights,
and the walls were a deep shade of blue. Glossy galaxy marble tiles made up the sleek floor and crowds of people, dressed in expensive tuxedos and elegant dresses, were scattered about gambling, drinking, or partaking in a mixture of the two.
"That guy, over there," her father, Alvar, whispered, leaning across the bar as he mixed a drink.
"Yeah?" Anna asked as her gaze drifted to subtly eye the man her father was referring to. He was middle aged with clean-cut dark hair, striking blue eyes and sparse stubble decorating his chin. He was dressed in a sky blue button-up shirt and black dress pants, an expensive watch decorating his wrist with two beautiful women hanging off either arm.
"He's incredibly, unbelievably rich. Married too, and neither of those women are his wife," her father snorted.
"What a pig," Anna rolled her eyes. She delighted in hearing her father talk about what he knew about Oaken's many patrons; this man was secretly gay and his wife merely a coverup, that woman was involved in a major business scandal, the young man across the room inherited millions from his recently deceased father. Alvar would recount tale after take of real-life drama that Anna found much more engrossing than the rubbish that came on T.V. She needed only point to a person to hear their most recent accomplishment or misfortune.
"Dad, what about those two, over there?" Anna asked, gesturing inconspicuously down the bar at a couple sitting huddled together, their glasses clutched tightly in their hands. One was a woman with striking platinum blonde hair, the other a man with reddish-brown hair and thick, neatly groomed sideburns. They looked rather out of place, clothed incredibly casually amongst the sea of sharply dressed individuals; the woman wore a simple black dress that ended just below her knees, revealing a vast expanse of beautiful milky white skin. The man dawned a red dress shirt and faded black dress pants, a charcoal tie loosely strung around his neck.
Her father shook his head solemnly.
"Pitiful story, those two— the woman is Elsa Landvik. She was cheated out of a fortune by a family friend after her parents died. She sort of fell into a pit after that, when she met the man, Hans Westergaard. He was last in line to receive his father's company and his income from the corporation stopped once his oldest brother took charge. You could say they both were living happy, expensive lives that were suddenly torn asunder. Now they're both alcoholics," Alvar explained in a hushed tone, never looking in the couple's direction as he wiped the counter down.
"Wow. That really sucks for them," Anna murmured. She stole another glance at the couple and noticed with a start that the woman was now staring back, her icy blue eyes seeming to slice through Anna's skin and freeze her nerves solid. A sweet chill crept up Anna's spine as she found herself enraptured by this Elsa's gaze, the chill growing pleasantly cooler when the woman gave Anna a small and genuine yet melancholy smile before turning back to the glass of whiskey nestled between her pale palms.
Anna would never forget that smile.
A/N: This was just a sudden burst of inspiration I had. I have a sort of path I want this to take, but I'm not too sure. Let me know what you think!