Sorry for the long wait! Here's an update guys, hope you like!

Chad arrived in his notoriously bright red luxury convertible. His blonde locks were perfectly ruffled and eyes such a vivid green that I had forgotten he was an hour effing late. He wore a designer three-piece suit of pristine white, carefully tailored and so outrageously expensive I felt underdressed. Even his cufflinks were custom-made! In comparison to his upscale extravagance, my short lace dress looked like it came out of the nearest bargain bin. Damn it. I should've chosen something flashy, with a way bigger price tag.

Well, there goes my self-confidence…

I wobbled over to him in my stiletto heels and mumbled an awkward greeting, "H-hi."

"Hey, Blondie." Chad flashed his signature movie star smile that made all the girls swoon, including me. "We're late. Let's get going." Whop! He smacked my ass. Hard.

I jerked forward from the impact. "Whoa! Slow down there, Tiger."

"When Chad sees a nice ass, he's gotta clap—I mean, slap it." With an innocent smile, he slid behind the wheel. Jeez, what a gentleman.

I climbed into the passenger seat. My hands trembled in my lap. My stomach pitched and rolled. I was on a date with the cutest boy in school, it's official! No talking myself out of it, nowhere to escape—the moving car made sure of that. Enclosed together in a mechanical box of gas and metal, Chad was mine and mine alone. I've been preparing for this moment for the longest, time to make it count.

"So…" I shrugged out of my shawl, suddenly feeling too hot to wear it. "How are you?"

"Good," he replied. "Chad is always good. Always winning."

Why was he referring to himself in third person? I cleared my throat awkwardly and continued, "Um, how is chemistry class treating you? Do any cool experiments lately? Is the professor still chugging out loads of homework?"

"Chad doesn't have time for homework when he's chasing his dreams. No breaks. The grind never stops." He stomped on the gas, darting past a red light. I disregarded the first traffic violation as a careless mistake. This was Los Santos after all, bad driving was a local standard. But then he raced through another light. And another. Soon enough, he was speeding down the street recklessly as if we had multiple lives. It was like being on the road with my maniac of a dad at the wheel, but worse, because if this tiny convertible collided with something, one of us was going to be flung through the effing windshield.

Oh, heck no. No date is worth dying for.

Fearing for my safety, I clung to my seatbelt. "Are you insane? Slow down!"

He glanced at me as if I had grown two heads. "Slow down? There's no time to slow down when the grind never stops. Chad's racing to the top! All day! Ain't no stopping him, he's NFL bound—"

"You're going to get us killed!"

He threw his head back and laughed arrogantly. "Chad kills himself every day chasing his dreams. Death is just an illusion. No pain equals no game. You gonna ride this out like a winner, or melt under pressure like a little bitch?"

I recoiled from his harshness. "Excuse me?"

"Relax, Blondie. Take a chill pill, you're ruining the vibe." The car screeched into a stop before a crowded club. Somehow, we made it to our destination unscathed. But that didn't change the fact that Chad was being more of a douche bag than usual. I was seriously considering leaving him right then and there without a word, but the moment I got out of the car, his arm linked with mine, dragging me along.

The line to get into the Vinewood venue was long, extending down the street and around the corner. Soulful music drifted out of the extravagant entrance, as did well-dressed customers who exited with pleased smiles. A beautiful hostess in a skintight dress of gold granted Chad and I immediate and free entrance. She escorted us through a long, dark, and somewhat spooky passageway, and then down a wooden staircase into the sparkling neon lights of the notorious speakeasy ball.

The high ceilings were adorned with priceless chandeliers, and the polished marble dancefloor was so wide, it seemed to go on for miles. Tall, statuesque-like cocktail fountains lined the walls alongside tables of food draped in cloth. The sight of it took my breath away. This place was the epitome of elegance.

The best part of it all? No one was a stranger. The space was packed with familiar faces from campus. Only a handful of people were actually wearing their masquerade masks, while the majority were either too drunk to keep it on or had forgotten to even purchase one in the first place. I'm guilty of the latter. The mask would've ruined my makeup anyway.

My date and I only had a few seconds to ourselves before every single head in the room snapped in our direction. Camera flashes burst around us like fireworks. People started chanting Chad's name over the music. Like a strike of a match, the entire football team emerged and snatched my date from my arm. As if his mere arrival was cause for celebration, he was picked up off his feet and lifted into the air, crowd-surfing above the loving hands of the masses.

A cold chill swept over me. With every second that passed, I felt more and more alone. Out of place. I shrunk into the nearest corner and downed a few glasses of champagne.

Quickly blinking away my tears, I took a moment to gather my composure. I shouldn't have come here. I should've listened to my gut. I'm so stupid!

"I'd take it easy on the drinks if I were you."

I turned to find Claire beside me, her luxuriant auburn locks impeccably curled as always. She wore a matching gown of red with pearls thickly sown into the sleeves.

Deeply immersed in my own pity party, I didn't respond. Hopefully she'd get the message and go away. Unfortunately, she didn't. "Let me guess, your date with Chad isn't going as planned? He isn't the Prince Charming you imagined him to be?"

My temper flared at her patronizing tone, which felt good after so long of feeling sorry for myself. I had every right to be angry. "Screw you, Claire. Why don't you go be a bitch elsewhere?"

"I'm not here to fight." Her voice softened, filled with an empathy I had no clue she was capable of. "I know how you're feeling right now. Small. Alone. Hurt. You're not the only girl who's been sidelined by Chad. He has a history of this kinda thing."

I stared at the heartless mean girl who tormented everyone day after day, shocked by her somber expression and watery doe eyes. Apparently, she wasn't the cold-blooded bitch I thought she was. Underneath that catty, savage exterior was just a normal girl. A normal girl who's been hurt by Chad too. In an instant, my enemy became my only source of comfort.

I shot a glance at Chad. No longer crowd-surfing, he was now in the center of the dancefloor, surrounded by a small gathering of beautiful, elegantly dressed girls desperate for his attention. I cursed inwardly. I couldn't remember a time in my life I felt more invisible to the world than now. Did he forget I was here?

Claire sighed and took a sip of champagne. "The road you're going down only leads to one thing…heartbreak. Make it easy on yourself and just leave, Freshman. Don't make the same mistake I made. Falling for a guy like him is a trap. It's been months since we separated and I'm still not over him."

I twisted to face her. "You love him?"

"Everyone does." She managed a smile as rigid and fragile as hand-blown glass. "Chad is the hot commodity every girl wants but can't get—rich, handsome, untouchable, and out of our league…"

Unable to find my voice, we lingered in silence. I grabbed my phone from my clutch purse and flipped through Franklin and I's old text messages. I miss him so much. The thought of him being on a date right now was heart-shattering, and the assumption that it was probably going way better than mine hurt even worse.

Sucks to be me.

I saw Chad approaching us from my peripheral vision, and Claire immediately took off in the opposite direction like he was the walking plague. Her words of warning were at the forefront of my mind as Chad laid a hand on the small of my back. My skin crawled. One look at my flushed face and he knew I was pissed.

"You always this moody, Blondie?" he grumbled. "What did Claire say to you? Did she mention me?"

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I sucked up the remaining bits of self-respect I had left and announced, "I'm leaving." I didn't owe him an explanation of why, and he had more than enough ladies to keep him company.

He caught me by the elbow. "You leaving me? Chad Dillington? The future leading quarterback of the NFL? Have you seen his stats? He's a star in the making, Blondie."

"Stop talking in third person, effing moron." His douchey demeanor was as grating on my nerves as nails on a chalkboard. "And fuck your stats, dickweed. We're done."

"You got a lot of attitude for a nobody." His grip on me tightened to a painful degree. "You're difficult. Good. Chad likes a challenge—"

"Don't touch me, asshole!" I jerked away. It took all the strength I could muster to free myself from his punishing grasp. Eyes shifted to us. Chad took a step back, and I took the moment of reprieve to escape his clutches.

What the hell had gotten into Chad? Was he out of his mind? Why was he being such a douchebag? He had no right to put his hands on me like that. He could stick his money and his stupid sports achievements up his ass for all I care. His egotistical attitude made me feel small, insignificant, and physically sick to my stomach.

Shaking, I retreated into the shadowy hall outside the ballroom and called my best friend. Thank God he answered on the first ring. "Trace?"

"Hey." My voice didn't sound like mine, weak and clogged with misery. "I, um…I-I need you to come get me."

"You good? What happened?"

"Please," I avoided the question, too disorientated and emotionally wounded to muster an answer. "C-come pick me up, Frank. Hurry. Please."

"A'ight. Hold on." There was a feminine voice in the background, Franklin's date I assumed. Her voice was muffled, and I couldn't make out her words. "Ay, I gotta bounce," he told her. "Somethin' came up. Put the drinks on my tab." There was movement on his end. A few moments later I heard noisy traffic and car horns. "Tracey, I'll be there soon," he said.

Relief washed over me. I kept the phone pressed to my ear, being on the line with him soothed my nerves. "Don't hang up, okay?"

"Okay."

Red-faced and embarrassed, I kept my head down as I made the lonely walk of shame out of the club. I could only imagine what everyone else at the party was thinking. I'm sure all the chicks there were happy to have me out of the way so they could have their chance with Chad next. For a guy like him, I'd be easily replaced with someone prettier. The thought of being one girl in the line of many hurt.

I set myself up for this. I knew what I was getting into. No one to blame but myself.

I strode past the seemingly never-ending line of people outside the club and waited by the curb for Franklin. It was dark out and Vinewood boulevard was busier than ever. Steaming food carts dotted the sidewalks, and street vendors were out in droves selling artwork and novelty T-shirts. The roads were clogged with cars moving at a snail's pace, angry drivers spewed threats at one another as they slowly drifted along.

"Man, the traffic in this motherfucker…" Franklin grumbled.

Crap. It was going to take Franklin forever to get here with this kind of traffic. I just wanted to go home so I could break down and be miserable without anyone around to judge me. I hated crying in public.

"Blondie!" Chad's voice pierced the noisy city air. My heart dropped. I immediately set off around the corner. God! Why wouldn't he just leave me alone?

He captured me by the waist, his arms tightened into steel bands. "Come back to the party." His voice took on a serious, demanding edge.

"I wouldn't have left if you weren't such a dick."

"Chad needs you to be there."

"Why?"

"To make Claire jealous," he said. "Chad wants her back and you're gonna help him make it happen." He dipped a hand into his pocket and whipped out his wallet. "What's it gonna take for you to play nice, huh? Name your price."

Like a punch to the gut, his words left me breathless.

Chad was never interested in me. This was all about Claire. Lying fucking asshole. I could literally kill him right now.

My heart hammered painfully against my ribs. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. It was too much. The lying, the hurt—all of it was too much. Feeling caged in and claustrophobic by his iron-like grip, I threw my head back and screamed bloody murder. One second Chad was all over me and the next, he was sprawled on the concrete ground holding his face. Franklin appeared between him and I, vibrating with fury.

"What the fuck!" Chad squealed, his nose shooting blood despite the two hands he used to staunch it with.

"Put yo' hands on her again, motherfucker," my best friend threatened, "and I'll break every bone in yo' motherfuckin' body. You understand me?"

Chad shot a hand up in surrender. "I get it, dude! Chill!"

"Chad!" Claire appeared at his side. "Oh, God, are you okay?"

I shrunk close to Franklin, unnerved by the number of eyes on us. Claire could handle things from here. Her and Chad belonged together. "Frank, let's go. Please."

His fingers interlaced with mine, he escorted me to the car. I waited until we pulled away from the curb to start crying.

I spent the night and the following morning in Franklin's arms. With him, I was safe. From Chad. From everyone.

The crappy series of events that took place at the masquerade party dealt a serious blow to my self-confidence. All those hours wasted preparing for that date, only for things to end in disaster. The situation felt so out of my control…

Damn Chad to hell for pulling me into his drama with Claire. There were better ways to win a girl back—ways that didn't include using others as collateral damage. He was playing me from the start and the painful, humiliating truth ate at me relentlessly.

If I hid under the covers long enough, maybe I'd disappear. But my best friend had other plans. "We can't stay in bed forever, girl."

I managed a dull response, "Why not?"

"The world don't stop 'cause of one bad date. You still got shit to do, things to experience, lessons to learn. Life goes on."

"That's easy for you to say. You don't know what it's like to have your emotions played with like a toy. You just don't get it." My vision wavering behind unshed tears, I closed my eyes.

"Last night was fucked up, I feel you." He sighed. "But there ain't no point moping over shit you can't change."

"Funny coming from you, the most moody and brooding person I know." I sniffed. "I feel so stupid. I thought Chad was different."

"Trace…" He turned and spooned against my back, wrapping one arm around me and tucking me tightly against his powerful body. My stomach did a quick somersault. Despite the countless hours we spent curled up together, cuddling and holding one another, his closeness was heavenly, just as tantalizingly sweet as the first time he held me months ago.

I snuggled into the warm physical affection I so desperately needed. His touch was familiar now, a routine part of my life that I couldn't seem to live without.

"Frat boy was trippin'. Fuck him. You deserve better." His voice softened. "You deserve the world, baby."

The gentle sincerity of his tone struck a tender spot inside me. Opening my teary eyes, I swallowed past the knot of emotion lodged in my throat and rolled over to face him. His lips parted in a dazzling display of white teeth, the sunshine peeking through the window shades illuminating his magnificent amber gaze. I cupped his cheek, admiring the natural glow of his breathtaking face in the golden light.

God, Franklin was beautiful, and he was so easily pushing his way into my heart. It was scary how much he meant to me. A few sweet words followed by a gentle smile, Chad was pushed to the back of my mind and my day was instantaneously better.

"I ain't finna let you stay cooped up in this depressing ass room forever." With a sudden burst of energy, Franklin threw our covers off and rose from the bed. He pulled back the window curtains, flooding my room in the warm rays of the afternoon sun.

I squinted, momentarily blinded by the sudden change in light. "Jeez, that's bright!"

"The weather's nice, girl. We should be out there enjoyin' it. Let's do something, go somewhere. Wanna stop by yo' favorite noodle spot in Vespucci? We can do some window shopping too, maybe go on one of the rides?"

I shrugged, rubbing my eyes. "But you never want to go on any of the rides. You hate them."

"Yeah, well, I'm willin' to make an exception. Just this once." He hovered over the side of the bed and stared at me expectantly. "You down to roll with me?"

"I don't feel like going anywhere. Why can't we stay here?"

"Here ain't no good for you. You need fresh air. We need fresh air." As if I were as light as a feather, he gathered me into his arms bridal style and whisked me into the hall. My arm hooked around his neck, I pouted as he set me down in front of the bathroom door. "Go get ready. We bounce in ten."

He turned for the stairs, but I pulled him right back in. The thought of being apart from him for ten lonely, lousy minutes made my heart sink to my toes. Talk about clingy. "You can't go without giving me a hug first, silly."

His arms enveloped my waist, our foreheads nuzzling. Flustered by how closely his full lips hovered over mine, a shudder passed through me. The air around us felt electrified. I was drawn to him like a magnet, the intangible pull grew stronger and stronger by the day.

We could go anywhere in the world, do anything—I didn't care. As long as we were together.

"I hate when you leave," I murmured. "Even if it's for a little while."

"You won't have to miss me for long," his warm breath ghosted my lips. "I'll always come back to you. For as long as you need me."

My pulse leaped. I withdrew, carefully studying his expression for any sign of dishonesty. "What if I needed you forever?"

"Forever?" He furrowed a brow. "Pretty sure you'd get tired of my ass long before then—"

I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed. "No, never!"

My playful, clinging grasp made him laugh and I couldn't help but smile at the rare sound. He lifted me off my feet and spun me around, crushing my body against him in a bear hug. Giggling and squealing, I was nearly out of breath by the time he set me down.

"It's official—we're BFFs now," I declared. "We're stuck together."

"I ain't complaining." He cupped my cheek in his hand, the pad of his thumb brushed sensually over my curved lips. "I missed your pretty smile, girl."

My heart turned over from his tender words, and his fiercely intimate caress sent heat rushing through me. BFFs? Who am I kidding? If anything, Franklin and I were teetering on the very edge of friendship and something more. The kiss we shared yesterday was still fresh in my mind. Although it was meant to be an emotionless practice between friends, it felt…real. Passionate. Loving.

I wanted to explore the depth of those feelings more, but my hopes had been dashed so ruthlessly in the past that dismay won out. I was terrified of ruining our friendship. My throat ached from all the unspoken words I've swallowed out of fear of rejection. Fear of saying something or doing something stupid to scare him away. Franklin was intelligent, responsible, sensible, wise beyond his years—he's everything I'm not. Why would he want to be with a screw-up like me?

Not to mention, he was effing hot. God, why is he so perfect?

His eyes sought and held mine, searching with such a deeply serious intensity, it startled me. "There's something on yo' mind," he stated.

Instinctively, I retreated a step from the unexpected scrutiny. "H-how do you know?"

"Whenever you're thinking 'bout something, you're quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. You wrinkle your nose and stare off into space, sometimes you twirl yo' finger around in your hair…" He reached out to touch the ends of my messy strands. "You want me to confide in you. I'm willin' to try, Trace, but effort goes both ways. Don't shut me out."

Wow. From the casual knowledge of my favorite TV shows to my smallest of facial cues that apparently spoke a thousand words, he knew me so intimately. Hiding my emotions from someone who could read me like a book seemed pointless, but I was determined to stick to my guns. For the sake of our friendship.

"I'd never shut you out, Frank. It's just…" Suddenly weary from the battle of keeping my feelings for him bottled up tight, I sagged against the wall to maintain my footing. He reached out to steady me, his arm curled around my waist, pressing me to him. As always, I melted into his arms, the inner turmoil within my heart and mind instantly soothed by his amazingly gentle touch. It felt natural being in his arms, like it was where I belonged. Like home.

"Whoa!" Jimmy's annoying, squealing voice made me squirm. His wide-eyed stare ruining the magic of the moment, I jerked from my best friend's arms. Yikes, we're totally busted.

Franklin's phone began to chime. He glanced at the screen and frowned. "It's y'all pops, I gotta take this," he shuffled away briskly.

"Tracey!" Jimmy yanked me by the arm into the privacy of his room, which smelled a heck of a lot like cheese and sweaty feet. "I knew something was going on between you and him. I fucking knew it!"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, turd. You don't know anything."

"Have you lost your fucking mind? Franklin works for dad! Our dad—who happens to be an overprotective psychopath! When he finds out about this, he'll ground you forever, kill F-Dog, and then me for keeping your twisted relationship secret!"

"Oh my God, you are totally blowing this whole thing out of portion."

"This is serious, Tracey!" Jimmy paced the room, flinging his flabby arms around dramatically as he spoke. "Dad kills people all the time! Him and Uncle T—they chop people into pieces and make them disappear, sometimes Trevor eats them!"

Dad and Uncle T had a malicious side for sure, but cutting up body parts and eating them? No way. "Look, I know you're totally jealous of me and Franklin's relationship but that's no reason to start spreading lies, okay?"

"Tracey, listen to me—"

"Why should I? There's nothing you can say or do to keep me away from him. We're besties—forever. Get over it already, FATSO!"

I turned away, but Jimmy's words stopped me in my tracks. "Ever heard of the phrase 'birds of a feather flock together'? If you think Dad is a psychopath, F-Dog is too. And chances are, he's worse."

Feeling brittle as cracked glass, I left the room. My moron of a brother had a point, and I hated when he was right.

What if Franklin wasn't the good guy I thought he was?

This is my first time writing a slow-ish burn sooo I hope I'm doing a good job lol. Leave a review, your feedback inspires me to continue this! Thank you so much for reading! Love you guys!