Alicia took a long swig of ginger ale out of her crystal champagne flute and closed her eyes, in an attempt to steady her breathing. She couldn't tell if she was having a panic attack, or was simply fighting back another wave of nausea. She could not believe this was when her body decided to betray her like this. On all days? The brunette was so annoyed, she could've missed something super important!

She knew Massie didn't mind, it probably even helped distract her from the craziness that was circling them that night. All the plotting, all the plans - was this what their lives were becoming? They thought high school was over, that all the drama of their teenage years was left behind. They always seemed to forget, though, that whenever they looked outside their tight knit group there was always going to be someone ready to grab at them.

It was nothing new, though. All throughout middle school, the same thing happened. Newcomers and outsiders always tried to test their luck. Whether it was greed or pure stupidity, everyone tried their hardest to come in between the pretty committee and their boys and none of them walked away unscathed.

Would Alicia and Josh's kids have the same problem? Would they even have friends, considering their friends clearly aren't going to be having kids for a long time? The thought of her child sitting at a lunch room table friendless and alone was enough for Alicia to start breaking out in a cold sweat.

After Cam Fisher - that was his name, right? - and his threats, Tristan was beginning to feel a little… uneasy about the night ahead of him. Mainly how he felt like everywhere he turned, he had someone glaring or someone laughing or someone just wishing ill upon him. Tristan wasn't used to this much hostility, surprisingly enough. Westchester's elite usually only acted this way towards the females, but tonight it seemed like Massie was nowhere to be found and Tristan was getting all of the anger and resentment.

Was it because he was marrying the only Block daughter? Was it because he'd be the only man marrying into the Block Estate, the Block Trust, the Block Empire? Everyone in Westchester was vying for this position because there was only one. Within each wealthy family in Westchester, they all had at least two children, except the Block's which made them more….elite, more desired, more important. Everyone knew one day this would happen, but according to the town's gossip, Tristan wasn't who they all thought would be the one standing opposite Massie Elizabeth Block at the altar.

"You good, Tristan?"

"Oh, hey Chris. I didn't see you there."

"Yeah, I could tell. You look a little lost."

"I guess I just never realized how hard it is to find a friendly face at these kind of things. I kind of figured at my own party it'd be a little easier?"

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong I guess. It's Kendra, though. She doesn't do the whole friends and family thing, it's 'friends of friends' and 'people we've never spoken to' and 'forbes most influential fifty under fifty'. You know, the typical."

"Ha, yeah, you're right."

"Want a drink?" Chris asked, handing him a glass of scotch he had grabbed off a passing waiter's tray and handing it to Tristan as he kept one for himself. "Cheers, to becoming one of the few to make it this far. To a long life - full of sex, money, cars, and well… everything else money can buy."

"I'll drink to that."

"I cannot believe the nerve of you, Massie Elizabeth! It's your own engagement party!"

"Exactly! So I can wear whatever I want!"

"No, you wear what I tell you!"

"But it's MY party!"

"You're MY daughter!"

"It's MY life!"

"It's MY wedding planning!"

"IT'S MY WEDDING!"

"LADIES! That is enough!" William's voice echoed across the suite, where Massie and her mother were arguing back and forth.

Dylan and Kristen were perched on one of the plush white velvet couches watching the battle go down, Josh was on the armchair with his own arm strung around Alicia, and Derrick was standing behind the couch with his arms folded across his chest.

The air in the room was incredibly thick and heavy. Massie felt like she was drowning in the smell of all the women's perfumes and the men's heavy colognes, and the sheer thick-headedness of her defiant mother. No wonder where she got it from.

"Your mother is right, Massie. Wearing black to an engagement party is a terribly tacky move, and you knew you'd be getting in trouble for that. So, might I ask why you needed to do it?"

"Because white is so last season, Dad. It's predictable, and Blocks aren't predictable."

"But it's an engagement."

"Yeah, but it's mine. If I wanted to show up in fucking blue, I could've for the sheer principle of the matter that it's mine. When you both had your engagement party, she did whatever she wanted with your money. I can do whatever I want with the money I at least work for."

"Fair point. Kendra, it's her wedding, it's her night tonight. You might've planned it, but can we just try to not make it miserable for our only daughter and only child?"

"I just feel so disrespe-"

"I said, can we try?"

"I suppose."

"That's what I thought you said."

The only noise in the room was the sound of the violinists floating in from the center room, which could only be heard because of how fucking quiet everyone in the room was being. No one knew what to say, or how to respond. When William was mad, he was ripping mad and no one wanted to deal with it. So, all the guests in the room continued to look at each other with shared glances of confusion hoping someone would speak up.

"So, Derrick. How is that new property going on 97th street? I had my eye on it myself until I was told you were signing the contracts that day."

Massie felt like she was going to vomit. Her dad was in rare spirits, and this was how he was going to create peace in the room? Business?

"Oh, really? Yeah, turns out it was a pretty solid investment. We were hesitant to buy into SoHo, but it's making us think twice."

"I always valued that about you. You're careful, but you know when to show and when to fold."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, sir."

"Call me Will."

"I swear to God I blacked out."

"Did he tell you to call him Will?"

"Did he actually think starting business conversation was a good segway to normalcy?"

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Chris whined, leaning over and plucking a caviar topped blini off of Dylan's plate and popping it into his mouth.

"No, it's much more fun watching you squirm."

"Ouch, Dyl, claws can go away for tonight!"

"I just can't get over how badly your mom came at you with us all in the room."

"Oh, you should've seen her sweet sixteen when we were all getting ready. That was bad, this was nothing compared to the actual wrath Kendra Block can release."

"Don't forget Alicia's eighteenth birthday when she literally flipped a table on Joanne, that was pretty bad."

"Remember when Kendra and Josh's mom got into it over what table setting to use for their shared fundraiser for BOCD?"

"I try to forget it every day."

"I only remember it because my mom, to this day, will say that they would've raised another ten thousand dollars if Josh's mom didn't go with fucking silver tableware and gold tablecloths."

"I don't want to hear another damn thing about those tablecloths, Block."

"Why do you think we never worked?"

"Because you're a manwhore?"

"No, seriously."

"Okay. Because you're a manwhore."

"Ouch."

"You are, sorry but it's the truth."

"You don't know who I am anymore, Kristen."

"I know who you used to be, Kemp. And who you used to be is not anyone I want to be around, friends or not."

"You don't even want to be friends with me now?"

"I mean, do I have a choice? No. If I did, though, you wouldn't be my first pick. Probably like…. eight, or nine."

"Is Cam before me?"

"Obviously."

"Now that's just a low fucking blow, Kris."

"You're a low fucking blow, Kemp. Literally, because you're extremely egotistical. You're harmful and toxic, you live in a drug den, you haven't even attempted to better yourself since we had that conversation four years ago, either. You don't feel bad and you didn't try to change."

"You haven't seen me in four years, you wouldn't know any of that."

"I can see it on you right now."

"Come see me, come over and see me tomorrow and tell me that to my face then."

"If you want to do this again, then sure."

"And when you see how different I am, I expect a written apology."

"Anything else?"

"...Would a kiss be too much to ask for?"

Massie flat out gasped when she saw Tristan sitting at a table with the Harrington's, the Brookmeyer's, the Hotz's and the Andersons. The four biggest names in Westchester, besides the Blocks, and Tristan was nawt supposed to be speaking with any of them. Panicked, she looked to her left and saw Dylan, Chris and Derrick chatting over the open bar.

"Help!" She mumbled, pinching Derrick by the elbow and nodding over to where her fiancee was standing. "Why is he speaking to your parents?!"

"Why is he over there!?"

"Relax, he's drugged."

"Excuse me?!"

"I slipped a roofie in about half an hour ago. It should be setting in right about now, so he's bound to start making an ass out of himself any minute."

"How did you actually pull that off? I thought only Kemp could. I thought we were waiting for Kemp." Dylan asked in shock at the things her darling boyfriend seemed to be so capable of. She said her last sentence with a smidge of hostility.

"He was taking too long. Him and Kris were getting into it, and we were going to blow our timing, so I did it."

"I didn't know we were drugging him?" Massie whisper-yelled, trying to disguise the fact that she was upset so no listening ears and eavesdroppers could meddle on their conversation.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, now we enjoy the show." Chris smirked, nodding to the table ahead of them and the spectacle beginning to unfold in front of their eyes.