I awoke the next day, rather happily and calmly. I had dreamt of days when we spent our Sundays by the lake and Joseph, my little brother and I would collect shiny pebbles and snail shells to present to our parents. Our old, humble home had been covered in them, my mother had treasured them.

But those were silly times, now our Sundays consisted of visiting and receiving guests and attending teas while Joseph was tutored, and father tended to his business empire.

Today was not that day, it was a Monday and I needed to work out my plans with mother. I slipped into a simple sky blue sun dress, the ended at the bottom of my knees, and had a robin's egg blue lace bodice. I swept my long hair over my left shoulder and wore white leather flats and went to see my mother.

I was calm, and collected. I was 20 as of last month, and was of the right age to be planning these types of events. But, this also meant I was of marrying age and needed to find a suitable husband. But I had time, plenty of it and plenty of options. I would not leave my family until we had the proper reputation and wealth needed to secure our place in central.

I found my mother in the front parlor curled up on the couch next to an unlit fireplace reading.

"Mother?" I said quietly, my hands clasped in front of me.

She looked up, coughed and sat strait up with a sheepish smile.

"Vanessa, here to help plan the party?" she asked, patting the chair across from her.

I sat down and smoothed out my dress, noticing that Brittany was no where to be seen.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that. Where is Brittany?"

"She and Leon went for brunch at a new café on the main street. I think they fancy each other." She said with a dreamy smile.

"I'm sure they do. Anyways, on with important matters. The guest list must be decided on first. It's of upmost importance we invite as many high ranking army officials as we can. The military ball is in a month and we have to be invited." I said, crossing my ankles and observing my mother.

"I suppose so, but I'm not sure I want to have rowdy military men in my home."

"Mother, I highly doubt they lack the decorum for a social event like ours. Otherwise they wouldn't host their annual military ball. Anyways, I will be in charge of the guest list. I will leave everything else up to you and the planner. Since its summer we should stick with greens, whites, and soft lavenders for the color scheme though."

"Sounds manageable. You always have had very good ideas."

"Thank you, I will go get started. Oh, and have you chosen a date?"

"Yes, next Saturday." She said, eyeing her book which I took as my cue to leave her in peace.

The week after that had been rather hectic. We had to send out invitations, wait for rsvp's, prepare the ballroom, get fitted for gowns, find a florist, and so many other things. Normally an even of this magnitude required months of planning, or two weeks, but mother was impatient, as was I, so the sooner the better.

The night of the ball, it was impossible to tell if I was on edge. My hair was curled and in a loose bun, with single ringlets around my face, I was in a lavender chiffon dress with a small train, the band right beneath my bosom, the band consisting of an elegant string of pearls. I wore simple pearl studs, and kept my makeup light, with only a little rouge and mascara. I wore silver, pearl studded heels that clacked as I walked.

I had begun to descend the stairs, my right hand on the railing, my body slightly turned towards it, as I gently placed each foot on the steps, as I had been trained to do. The staircase led into the ballroom, which was alive with soft candle light, as the guest danced and twirled around on the white marble floors, with massive columns surrounding the dance floor. Flowers encircled said columns, and waiters carefully maneuvered around people with trays of champagne and wine.

I was well aware of the many eyes following me as I descended the stairs. Once I reached the floor I graciously smiled at everyone and made my way to familiar faces.

"Vanessa! You look gorgeous, as always." One of my, 'friends' said, eyeing my simple ensemble.

"Thank you Clarissa, you look stunning." This was mostly true. She was an attractive girl, her light blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, her grey eyes searching for a flaw in anything she could see. Her dress was gaudy at most. It was a rose petal pink ball gown that was so wide it was quite impossible to kiss her cheeks or dance with a partner, and the giant white rose at the top of the bodice overwhelmed her small frame.

I didn't feel cruel for my critical view of her, I was quite sure she had a few nasty quips about my outfit in her mind. It was the same with all the girls I begun to speak with. It was the way of the crowd. Be polite, be kind, and keep your true intentions inside. Everyone was trying to impress each other, everyone attempting to be the 'it' girl, or it couple, or the family.

"I see quite a lot of military personnel, is this by any chance your father sending out a message of deciding to join?" Said Emily, a brown eyed beauty (in a too tight blue gown) said coyly.

"No, he simply felt that the military had been getting quite a bit of bad press lately and decided to help out." I lied, sipping a flute of champagne I took from a passing waiter.

"I see, that makes sense." She said nodding.

"My, if it isn't the full metal alchemist, your mother really went all out with that guest list I see." I heard Clarissa mumble.

I followed her gaze and saw a short blonde, his long hair in a braid, as he shifted uncomfortably by a column, watching everyone. He kept his hands in the pockets of a black tux that didn't seem, well, right on him. Then, a man, with hair black as coal, and light ivory skin in a fitted tux that made him look very regal approached him. I watched their small exchange, when the man looked up, and into my eyes.

The proper thing to do would be to look down and wait for him to approach, but I knew who he was, and the infamous Roy Mustang didn't stand on principles. I knew who he was of course, I did invite him. It was well known he was trying to become Fhurer, and from what I could tell he was the only person qualified. It would be good to be on his good side should this happen. I also knew of his reputation for being, well, overly confident.

We stared each other down, when I winked playfully and turned to the girls who all looked at me knowingly.

"Careful who you flirt with Nessa, one wrong move and you would be lower on the food chain than Patricia." One of the girls said, and we all looked at a small, angry looking girl leaning against a column, looking as though she would rather be anywhere than there. Her silver dress, though stunning, overwhelmed her currently. But should she smile and stand strait, I might have to worry about some real competition.

Before I could say anything, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned, to see mustang right behind me, a smirk on his face and hand extended, "would it be possible to dance with the lovely miss. Brownwell?" he said, bowing slightly at the waist.

I smiled in return and placed my hand in his and replied, "I suppose it can be done." And with those words, I unknowingly veered off of the path I had been so carefully paved for myself and my family, and was now swimming, in uncharted waters.

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