â C H L O E â
The first principle of success is desire â knowing what you want. Desire is the planting of your own seed. It is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire which transcends everything. The size of your success is measured by the strength of your desire; the size of your dream; and how you handle disappointment along the way.
I can't help but recall Lucifer Morningstar's famous line: "What is it that you truly desire?" The devil himself, he has a knack for revealing people's deepest, darkest desires, he uncovers their most hidden longings. Some say he does this to tempt, but I see it differently. In my eyes, the devil doesn't expose desires for the sole purpose of leading people astray but also to push them forward. He uncovers those hidden longings, nudging people to break free from their inertia and move beyond fear. So often, we're paralyzed by overthinking and fear of consequences, frozen before the risk even takes shape.
"The best thing to do is always to follow your greatest desire."
Move forward. Risk, then, is not just part of life. It is life. The place between your comfort zone and your dream is where life takes place. It's the high-anxiety zone, but it's also where you discover who you are. This is where desire livesâpushing us to risk everything, to uncover the potential we didn't know we had, and to reach for something far greater than we ever imagined.
Ever since I was a kid, I've always had a bundle of dreams, a collection of desires swirling around in my head. I pictured myself with a thriving career, traveling to new places, and trying things I'd never imagined. I saw a future with a loving husband, maybe three kidsâwho knows? And, of course, I've always wanted to make my parents proud. Those dreams became my compass, guiding me through the years with a laser focus on achieving them one day.
It's not that I've spent my life buried in books or chained to my desk. I've made room for fun along the way, too. I know how to cut loose, hang out with friends, travel to unwind, and yes, even dance at parties now and then. But through it all, I've kept my priorities straight. I'm confident, competitive, and drivenâthat fire to achieve my dreams has fueled me all this time, pushing me to stay on course and work toward the life I've always envisioned.
Dreams aren't born from indifference or laziness, and they don't thrive on apathy. They demand drive, focus, and ambition. That's what has pushed me, kept me moving forward. I know where I'm going, and I know what I want, but I also know how to live along the way. Because for me, achieving dreams isn't about sacrificing lifeâit's about fully embracing it, every step of the journey.
Those dreams have been etched into me ever since, shaping every decision and step along the way. But tonight, our desires aren't focused on achieving personal goals or ticking off ambitions from some long checklist. Tonight, we're here to loosen up, take a breather, and dive into the moment. We're here to let go of everything, just for a little while, and simply enjoy the party. It's a break from the relentless pursuit, a chance to recharge. After all, sometimes the best way to fuel our dreams is to let ourselves live a little.
"How about this?" Scarlet asked, slipping into her sixth dress of the night. My patience was starting to fray, but I kept it together, masking my growing exasperation with a smile. This was her first college party, after all; I couldn't blame her for being so self-conscious and eager to look her best.
"Scar, honestly, everything you've tried on looks great," I reassured her. "But if you want my opinion, I think that red cocktail dress is perfect on you." I gave her an encouraging smile, hoping to ease her nerves. I'd been ready for half an hour now, but Scarlet was still rummaging through her closet as if there were some magical dress hiding in there that would make tonight unforgettable.
She let out a big sigh. "Sorry, Chlo, I'm just a little nervous and excited," she admitted, fiddling with her fingers.
I walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to look amazing no matter what you wear, Scar. Trust me." She grinned, finally taking my advice and slipping into the red cocktail dress. With a little more primping and pep talk, Scarlet was ready.
Another half-hour later, the two of us, along with Jessica and Penelope, were finally out the door and on our way. Dressed to impress and brimming with excitement, we headed to the party, ready to make the night ours.
By the time we arrived, the place was already buzzing with energy. The air was thick with the sound of loud music, punctuated by the flickering of strobe lights that danced both inside and outside the house. A group of party-goers were already splashing around in the pool, their laughter mingling with the beat of the music, while nearly everyone clutched their cups and glasses filled to the brim with drinks. A few familiar faces from our department had made it there earlier and were clearly having a blast, their carefree spirits infectious.
"Let's grab some drinks, girls!" I shouted over the thumping bass as we made our way to the bar. Waiters and servers had been hired for the event, circulating through the crowd to ensure no one went thirsty. We didn't have to worry about fetching our own drinks; we just needed to signal a server, and they would gladly deliver.
Once we had our drinks in handâbright, colorful concoctions that sparkled under the lightsâwe weaved through the throngs of party-goers, ready to let loose and dance the night away.
As the night wore on and the music pulsed through the air, my friends and I found ourselves mingling with a vibrant mix of students from various departmentsâBusiness Management, IT, Law, Education, and more. It felt liberating to let loose after the relentless grind of academics, our laughter blending seamlessly with the lively atmosphere. We were deep in conversation, sharing stories and exchanging jokes with our newfound friends, when suddenly, a woman strode up to me, a $50 bill in hand.
"Hey, miss," she said casually, slipping the bill at me. "Could you serve me and my friends five bottles of those Bud Light over there?" She gestured nonchalantly toward a couch in the corner before strutting away.
I blinked, taken aback. Do I look like a waiter?! The words screamed in my mind as I watched her retreating figure, hair in brunette, clad in black denim jeans, a dark brown crop top, and a caramel jersey jacket. A wave of indignation washed over me, and I quickly set off after her.
"Hey! You!" I called, quickening my pace. She turned her head slightly, barely breaking stride, and shouted back, "Oh, and bring a bucket of ice too, thanks!"
Despite the pounding music, her words reached me loud and clear. My frustration bubbled over, and I yelled back, "Hey, asshole! I'm not a freaking waiter!"
She stopped mid-stride, and a smirk curled on her lips as she turned around, striding confidently back in my direction. The audacity of this woman was both infuriating and intriguing, and I could feel the tension in the air shift.
â Q U I N N â
When you desire something but not work on it, that portrays how coward you are. I recalled Jared Leto's haunting words as he portrayed the Joker in Suicide Squad: "Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes power." And right now, I held that power tightly within me.
As my colleagues and I lounged on the couch, enjoying our drinks and laughter, an unfamiliar figure caught my eye near the bar. A blonde woman stood there, radiating an effortless charm in a light blue shift dress adorned with playful polka dots. One strap hung lazily from her shoulder, while the other clung to her, hinting at her carefree spirit.
Despite the distance between the couch and the bar, her green eyes sparkled like gems, glinting vibrantly each time the strobe lights flashed across the room. There was something captivating about herâa magnetic allure that drew me in, making the bustling party around us fade into the background.
Without a moment's hesitation, I pushed myself off the couch and made my way toward their circle. As I drew closer, I couldn't help but notice how her smile lit up her entire face, reaching her eyes and making them sparkle like precious gems. She was animatedly exchanging banter with her friends, laughter punctuating the air around her.
In a bold move, I reached into my pocket and retrieved a crisp $50 note, sliding it into her hand with a casual confidence. "Hey miss, could you serve me and my friends five bottles of those Bud Light over there?" I asked, gesturing toward the couch where I had just been lounging. With that, I turned my back on her and started to stroll away.
As I walked away, I heard her voice call out after me, curiosity lacing her tone. But I didn't stop. I casually threw over my shoulder, "Oh, and bring a bucket of ice too." My pace quickened as I continued toward the couch, but her incredulous shout echoed behind me, "Hey, asshole! I'm not a freaking waiter!"
I felt a surge of triumph; I have her attention nowâgood! The night was just beginning, and I could feel the thrill of this playful confrontation igniting something deep within me.
I watched as she approached me, her brows furrowed in evident frustration. There was something captivating about her intensity, and I felt a mix of amusement and intrigue. "I'm sorry, miss. I thought you were one of the servers. My bad," I said, scratching my head in mock innocence, hoping to diffuse the tension.
She came to a halt right in front of me, the annoyance radiating off her like heat from the sun. She thrust the $50 note back into my hand. "I'm not a server here! Can't you see I don't wear the same uniform as them?!" Her voice quickened with irritation, and I could feel the heat of her gaze.
"Sorry! I just assumed, since you were hanging around the bar, you were one of the waiters," I replied defensively, taking the money back and relishing the spark in her emerald green eyes. "So, if you're not a waiter and this is an exclusive party for university students, what are you doing here? I've never seen you at any parties before," I inquired, my gaze locking onto hers, my heart racing at the intensity of our interaction.
"We're from the Pre-Med Department," she replied succinctly. I nodded, a smile breaking across my face just as she turned to walk back toward the bar.
"Quinn! I shouted making her halt on her steps. She turned around again, her facial expression confused, eyebrow raising. "Name's Quinn." I said while I waited for her response. Her eyebrow slowly lowered down, "Chloe." She answered. "Nice meeting you, Chloe! I hope you enjoy the party." I smiled back before turning around turning around and walked back to the couch.