A/N: Whoooaaaaa it's been a full year since the last update I'm such a slackarse! I wouldn't be surprised if I don't get any reviews haha. I am really sorry to all the people who'd been waiting...I'll try and get it finished. I don't want to leave it around getting covered by dust.


"Summer, there's going to be an unveiling party on the 6th, you know that, right?"

"Right," I said, my vision out of focus. To be honest I wasn't really listening. I hadn't gotten enough sleep the day before and I was tired as hell—everything and everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. I don't know how many times I yawned and blinked back tears that day. "I'm going."

The bad thing was that Marissa was coming as well. But, I'll manage. If I can put up with her for a day just like I did at the photo shoot, then a party won't be that bad now, would it?

--------------

Make-up products in rows, waiters serving cocktails, and glittery decorations adorning the walls.

The unveiling party, so far, wasn't that bad. Marissa left me alone for most of the time so I was in a so-so mood. She was surrounded by wannabe models and all the while I stood in a corner talking about business.

"Summer, is it true you're going to release your own make-up line?" an excited blogger asked me, eyes widened.

"Uh, well, I dunno yet, but yeah." I shrugged. "I'm working on it. I want it to be a creative brand that sells cruelty-free products. As in, you know, no animal testing and all that."

"Really," breathed another girl (probably one of the editors of the beauty section in TeenSpirit), who was about to spill the cocktail in her hand.

I smiled and nodded. "Watch it, it's about to spill." I laughed and indicated the glass in her hand.

"Summer! Summer!"

My head jerked back when I thought I heard a familiar voice shout out my name from behind. A very familiar voice.

Seth Cohen was jogging his way towards me. The hair, the face, the lanky body, and the dorky atmosphere that seemed to waft around him...it all seemed much too familiar.

I literally froze on the spot. I felt my blood curdle, but at the same time, I felt rage well up inside me. I instantly regretted having left him the stupid anonymous letter. God, I must've been sick or something. Couldn't he have contacted me subtly instead of crashing a party?

What. An. Idiot.

"Why the hell are you here," I hissed through clenched teeth. I said it more like a statement more than a proper question. "This party's for fashion gurus, unlike you." Whoa, I thought. I was surprised that I actually managed to talk normally.

"Long time no see, Summer," the bastard said, completely ignoring me. He looked as if he had seen me for the first time in a thousand years.

"Shut up, pothead!" Furiously, I shoved some chips into my mouth and scoffed it down. "And stop saying my name."

"I'm not a pothead anymore, Summer. I came to see you—"

I cut him off completely before he could say anything else. "How come you knew I was here, you stalker? Who gave you information?" My fingers clenched around a fork I had been holding. A rage blackout was going to come soon. Very soon.

I fully expected the answer to be Marissa, but it wasn't.

"No one. Well, to be exact, this girl I met by coincidence a few days ago. She told me you were a make-up artist. She was just like Ryan, you should've seen her!" His eyes glittered with enthusiasm. It made me want to kill him. "Speaking of Ryan, I haven't seen him for a long time... Anyway, I did a little research on the internet, and there was some information about an unveiling party for a make-up collection. I looked into it and it said you were coming too."

Great. Just great. Now I'm gonna have to kill whoever created the internet too.

I didn't know what to say. I just rolled my eyes. I saw the girls that'd been talking with me scatter.

"Summer." He took a tentative step closer to me. I took a step back. "I know you loathe me. And I don't blame you. I'm sorry. Can't we start over? I don't care how much time it'll take for you to forgive me and get used to me again. Captain Oats is waiting for you."

Now this was unexpected. And annoying.

He was staring at me in a serious manner but he still looked like a dork. If this were a different situation I would've laughed at him for sure, but at that time I was in no mood for a laugh. How could he say something like that after all these years? Start over? Start what over? I stood for a moment, saying nothing, looking into open space. I couldn't even think properly, my mind was numb. A few words managed to spill out of my mouth.

"You're a dork." My voice was monotonous, sort of drawling. What, I had to say something!

"Thank you," he said, annoyingly as ever.

"Over there!" a voice called out. A guard was striding across the room in our direction, accompanied by the two girls I had been talking with.

"Sir, your name?" The guard loomed over Cohen in a threatening way. I could see that he had a list of the guests' names in one hand.

"Um..." The idiot looked in my way. I raised a sceptic eyebrow. "Seth Cohen?"

Scanning the clipboard in the "C" column, the guard spoke. "I'm sorry sir, but there is no 'Seth Cohen' in this list. Do you have an invitation?"

"Uh, no. But I did have it with me a moment ago! I must have lost it when this guy bumped into me on my way here! It must've fallen out of my pocket," he rambled.

The guard's facial expression wasn't stern anymore but rather amused. "The invitation was sent via email and guests were asked to bring their cell phones along."

"Oh."

Great, did this mean he was going to get kicked out? Awesomeness. I smiled gratefully at the magazine editor and the blogger.

Just before the guard started leading Cohen to the exit, he did something weird. He pulled out a scrap of paper out of his jeans pocket frantically, and grabbing my arm, stuffed it into my hand. As he was being pulled to the door, he looked back over his shoulder and mouthed, "Call me". I rolled my eyes.

In a second he was gone. Just like that.

"Did he just say 'Seth Cohen'?"

A voice snapped me back to reality.

"What?" I said.

"Because if he did... I have just met one of my favourite writers. Damn, I shouldn't've kicked him out!" the editor said.

"How did you know he wasn't one of the guests though?"

"Sixth sense. Haha, just joking." She winked at me.

Careful not to be noticed, I slid the piece of paper that Cohen gave me into my clutch.


The unveiling party wasn't exactly the most exciting thing on earth. The moment it ended at 9pm I headed downtown.

I pranced through the crowd of people clubbing as if there was no tomorrow. I could tell some clubbers were on ecstasy just by looking into their eyes. That shows how much time I spent with drug-related people. Not that I wanted to.

Music boomed in my ears and I closed my eyes and listened, swaying.

Being a model wasn't that bad. I got to date whoever I liked, fashion brands gave me things for free, and I got to shine in the spotlight. Lots of money, too, which meant I could buy all the drugs I wanted.

The fact that I'd visited Ryan changed nothing. If I didn't do anything my life without Ryan will probably go on.

I squeezed my way through and finally got to the balcony of the second floor. It was hot and sweaty that night, humid, I suppose. Stepping outside was like crawling into a dragon's mouth.

Leaning against the handrails, I dialled his number. I decided to play an old trick on him.

Beep beep...

It wasn't long before he picked up.

"Hello?"

I smiled and bit my bottom lip remaining silent, holding back laughter.

"Who is this?"

A few seconds passed, and then he took a guess.

"Marissa."

I giggled. "Ryan," I said, copying his voice. He sighed through the phone.

"What is it?" It sounded like he wanted the conversation to end quickly.

"Nothing in particular," I said. No one was around except for some random guy who'd dozed off on the floor. "Well, actually, I have something I want to ask you."

"What."

"Are you free this Saturday?" I asked him as casually as possible.

Another sigh. "Marissa, I can't."

"You can't what?" I could hear my tone getting a little harsh.

"I can't see you."

I stood there saying and doing nothing for a moment. I'd been rejected. Somehow, and somewhere in my heart, though, I knew this was coming. Ryan Atwood was a sensible man. An ex-delinquent, yes, but he wasn't the type of person who'd get back together with a girl that easily. I should've known.

"I can't be with you. We broke up years ago and I didn't expect to see you ever again. Even if we talk things over...you're so messed up right now, Marissa. You need to pull yourself together. I've got enough going on in my life right now. Just forget what happened the other night."

We were in different worlds.

"You know, you're right. Seeing you was a big mistake. And I don't know why I called you...I really don't."

I hung up. I couldn't help but throw my cell phone against the wall. It shattered apart.


She called me just when I was about to start studying.

I couldn't believe it when I'd actually said it. It sounded a little too much but I'd said what I really felt. It pained me to hear her speak—her voice was like a hundred stabbing knives, gouging out my brains to uncover the bad memories I was trying hard to forget, one by one.

The moment she hung up, I was overcome by sudden rage. I didn't know who I was angry at—myself or Marissa. I threw the phone down in fury and it clattered onto the floor. There goes my temper.


A/N: Alright, how was it? Again, nothing happened much, I know. Expect to see change in the next chapter!