Page 1 of The Puck Secret

Do you ever wonder what it would be like to just die? To just end your life and not have to endure the fallout of anything anymore? There would be no more hiding under your covers every morning to prolong another day, no more smiling until your face hurts while you pretend to be perfect, and no more pressure weighing down on your chest until you feel like you might explode. You would just be free.

Now it’s not like I'm sitting here with a razor to my wrist ready to meet my maker or anything, but sometimes I wonder if life would be easier if I just didn't live anymore. If I just disappeared and everyone forgot the name Madeline Peters ever existed.

That feeling is never more prominent than when I am forced to endure one of my father’s stupid political parties, and pretend like we are a perfect, happy family. It’s all champagne, fake smiles, and bullshit, and I’m not being dramatic when I say I’d rather die than be here. To make matters worse, they gave my brother Josh a free pass tonight. He’s their golden boy, the talented and well-known hockey player who can do no wrong. So, not only am I here alone, I am also missing out on the game he is playing right now because of patriarchal sexism and parental favoritism. I don’t think I can roll my eyes any harder, especially not when I am forcing a smile so hard that my cheeks hurt.

Looking in from the outside, everything in my life is perfect. My parents are high school sweethearts that fell in love in their senior year. They went to college together, and then got married, and were blessed with my brother and I.Their words, not mine. Then my dad had a successful career in politics that eventually led him to being the Mayor of Fairfield. My mom is the perfect, charitable housewife, smiling all pretty on his arm. They have stayed by one another’s side through everything, and that includes him fucking his secretary behind my mother’s back a few years ago. An embellishment that is now conveniently swept under our immaculate rug and never to be discussed again.

Watching them now you’d never know that my mother spent months crying in their bedroom afterwards, to the point where she barely even left the house. Then one day everything was just back to normal, and she acted like we didn’t all see the little pill she popped every day just to keep her smile intact. I’m no stranger to meds myself, I take them daily to curb my anxiety, but I never understood why she never just left him.

Instead, I watch as she tosses back her golden head of hair, so similar to my own, and laughs that high-pitched fake laugh that my father insists he fell in love with first. No doubt he is telling one of his perfected stories of their great love, while everyone pretends the scandal of his affair is completely forgotten, but I know they all remember, just like I do.

I snort at their bullshit production of marriage to the public, grabbing another glass of champagne from a passing tray and tossing it back. I do it just in time to see my father do his signature dip down to graze his lips against my mother’s cheek. It makes for a lovely show, but that’s all it is, a show. A frozen image of utter fabrication to showcase to everyone around us how we are better than them.

Spoiler alert - we’re not.

We are buried under so many secrets and lies that I can’t remember what it feels like to not be drowning anymore. Everyday is a constant battle against the current to remain upright and on top. One flaw, one mistake, and it will all come tumbling down. My dad still thinks his blue blood, weighty check-book, and mayoral status can buy his way out of anything, and he hasn’t been proven wrong yet. It makes me sick, but still I smile and pretend, and pray that one day I can escape the same fate as theirs.

That impending fate catches my attention in the corner of my eye, as I watch my newly appointed boyfriend Bradley Thorne look around the party to ensure no one is watching him, before he sneaks off around the side of the house with one of the event's staff members. If I wasn’t already internally rolling my eyes, I would do it again.Stupid, fucking Brad.Why are men always more trouble than sense? No wonder my father thought he was the perfect choice for me.

I don’t know why I follow him, I know what I’m going to see, but still I slowly stalk around the edge of the party until I reach the quiet path he just disappeared down, grabbing an open bottle of champagne from a table as I pass. I swallow some of the overpriced bubbles into my mouth as I guide myself down the unlit trail, and wonder if making a scene is even worth it. It’s not like I give a shit about what he does,orwho he fucks.

Their muffled groans of half-assed pleasure greet me first, and when I see Brad's bare white ass thrusting in the bushes I almost laugh.God what a fucking asshole. Seriously, fucking the help behind my back is low, even for the likes of him. He is your typical ‘comes from money’ type, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a stick up his ass, and a sense of superiority that can only come from everyone bowing down to his every whim.

I should have listened to my brother Josh, he’s always right, even when I don't want him to be. He warned me about Brad and his reputation, but Josh didn’t understand that I only allowed his capture of me because I knew it was what my parents wanted. They kept bringing him around, and talking about how we run in the same social circles and have the same life goals, to the point where I was almost drowning in their expectations. It’s laughable that they think they know what my life goals are when they barely pay me any attention in the first place, but I know the role I am forced to play.

When Brad finally asked me on a date I only accepted to be polite, and to keep my parents happy. Now it’s two months later and I am stuck in a cycle I don’t know how to break. It’s all dinner parties and coffee dates with the only purpose being for us to be seen together. I haven’t touched him beyond a swift kiss, which is probably why he is here now fulfilling his needs with the staff, and god knows who else he can get his hands on. Not that I care, if his attention is elsewhere then it prevents it from being on me, and that suits me just fine.

Josh doesn’t get it because he doesn’t have to. Like I said, he’s the golden boy, the talented hockey player, and most importantly a male. He will never understand the pressures and expectations of being a female in this family, this society, this world. So, I smile and listen to my parents’ demands, thinking it will help me, but now look where that has got me. I scoff a laugh to myself as I tip back more of the ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne into my willing mouth. The bubbles exploding on the back of my tongue, just the way I like. Even the fucking champagne is perfect.

Why couldn’t he just keep his dick in his fucking pants?

It’s not that I care, but really how hard is it to offer someone basic respect? Not able to bear another second of this facade, I turn without even making a sound and head inside to try and make my escape. I have shown my face enough for tonight. I cut through crowds of people left and right until I make it through the back patio doors, across the kitchen, and to the edge of the long, wide hallway. Escape is just within my grasp and the weight from my chest is finally starting to lift.

“Madeline, a word,” my father’s shrill command cuts through me, stopping me in my tracks, and when I turn towards him he nods his head towards his office.

I groan inwardly, but plaster another fake smile on my face like I’m not having the worst night of my fucking life, and obediently follow after him.

My father’s office is a reflection of him: clean, cold, archaic, it suits him. He isn’t a bad father, just an old fashioned one. I have to fight him at every turn, and with Josh around most of the time to have my back it makes things easier, but as the door slams closed behind me I can’t help but notice how alone we are. He heads to stand behind his desk and gestures for me to take a seat in front of him, like this is nothing more than a business meeting.Which to him, it is. Again, I follow his silent orders and sit down and wait. He takes his time in pouring himself a whiskey, before he eventually takes a seat and looks directly at me.

“I’ve worked hard to get our family where we are, Madeline, for you, your brother, your mom. Everything I do is to keep our family at the top.” It’s a speech I’ve heard a thousand times before, but still I smile and nod along as he continues. “But sometimes what I do isn’t enough. Sometimes I need to lean on other people, to expand our business and open the door to new opportunities.” He is starting to lose me slightly, but my practiced smile remains intact. “I guess I am just wondering how far is too far.”

That last bit is said more to himself than me, but I lean forward and reach my hand across his desk to place it on top of his. A loving gesture not usually shared between us. “Just trust your gut, Dad.” I repeat the words that Josh always says to me, and my dad smiles, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

“You’ve been spending too much time with your brother,” he sighs, before pulling his hand from under mine, standing, and turning towards the window as he adds in a detached tone, “At Christmas we will announce your engagement to Bradley Thorne.”

I jolt back as if I have been slapped in the face, as I replay his words again in my head. Surely I must have misheard him? “I’m sorry, what?” I manage to stutter out in disbelief, he can’t be serious. “You want me to get engaged to Brad, the guy I just caught fucking a waitress in a bush?” My voice raises in decibels, and my father flinches at my curse and crass statement, no doubt internally scolding me for it, but he doesn’t seem to match my outrage.

His face remains impassive as he focuses his stare back on me. “His father is one of the most successful business tycoons in the state, and his son is set to take over one day. He needs a good woman on his arm.”

“So take him to the damn cattle market and let him have his pick,” I interrupt, outrage fueling my tongue as I push out of my chair. “You can’t for one-second think that I would actually agree to this, did you miss the part where I said I just caught him fucking someone else?”

My father lets out an annoyed huff as he ignores me once more. “This isn’t up for negotiation, Madeline, you will get engaged to Bradley this Christmas, or I will pull your tuition from Fairfield U.”

Everything around me freezes as I absorb his threat, because that’s what it is, a threat. He is threatening to pull the one bit of freedom I have in my life, and for what? Business? I almost laugh, but nothing about this is funny, especially not as I feel tears burning at the back of my eyes. Which is laughable because I never even wanted to go to Fairfield U in the first place, I wanted to move away, explore the world, live my life, but my parents decided it wasn’t in the cards for me. I thought if I just did what they asked and got my degree then I would finally be free, but I guess I was wrong.

My options are simple, I don’t have any. My parents have warned me so many times in the past few years that there have been enough black marks against our name, and that I’m not to add to them. So now my only role is destined to be on the arm of someone just like my father. I guess you could say that Bradley Thorne is the perfect choice then, because my father couldn't keep his dick in his pants either.

There is nothing else I can do or say, so I don’t feel any guilt or regret as I turn and storm from his office, leaving him shouting my name after me. I have to get out of here, the pressure on my chest is building again even worse than before, and I feel like the walls are closing in on me. The smile has long left my face and I need to disappear before anyone sees me. Heading back towards the throws of the party there are people lingering everywhere, and for a moment I am suspended in time as I try to decide what to do.

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