A/N- Well, I didn't expect to get reviews or follows this quickly, but there they are! That really has honestly surprised me. So thank you so much, CourtneyMisfitMarie, Mariah smiley, DemmarisAoka, Guest and Morgan for reviewing!

Chapter Two- Cocaine Nose and Trendy Clothes

Temporary home sweet temporary home. I loved Seth's place, especially since he had it all refurbished about eight months ago. Don't get me wrong, mine and Dave's place in the Hills was gorgeous too; we had all big glass walls, white exterior, marble pool area and crazy bright furniture inside that totally clashed with the classy-looking outside. But something about Seth's place just seemed more fun…maybe it was because he had an air hockey table and we didn't.

"Hey, this looks beautiful!" Jay announced as the three of us walked through the front door.

"Yeah, do you like it?" asked Seth. "I totally redid it."

"It's fucking awesome!" Jay replied appraisingly.

"It's all new," said Seth, beginning to point various things out as he led Jay through to the living room. "Those are new."

"God damn, son!" Jay exclaimed.

"It's pretty nice, huh?" said Seth.

"So this is how the other half lives," Jay joked.

"God, I know right?" I said, kicking off my flip-flops. "I'm tempted to take up permanent residency. You'd love that, wouldn't you, Rogen?"

"Yeah, Mack, because I'm sure your BF would really fucking appreciate that," he replied wryly.

"Hey, who ruled him out?" I shot back. "He's moving in too."

"Anyway," he said quickly. "Look, we got air hockey tables," he said to Jay.

"Jesus Murphy!" Wow, how boring was Montreal if this was the kind of reaction Jay had to typical LA life?

"Right? Okay, get ready Jay." Seth and I paused in the archway that led into the living room.

"Get your ass ready for the best weekend of your life," I said, gesturing into the room by throwing out my arm. Jay took one step in, saw what was on the coffee table and starting whooping, running round the sofa. I laughed; I'd never seen the man so excited.

"Look at it, man!" said Seth, sitting down on the sofa with Jay. I just leant across the back cushion.

"Oh my…are you serious?!" Jay said almost disbelievingly.

"We stocked up on all your favourite things!" I said. "Check it."

"Starbursts and Airheads on a…a...and it says Jay," he listed, his eyes settling on his name written out in blunts.

"In joints," Seth elaborated.

"In joints," Jay repeated.

"In joints," I also said. They both looked at me oddly. "What? I wanted to get in on the joint lovin' too!"

"It says Jay in jays," Seth continued.

"Now I know what you did while I got changed," I said. "But I would just like to point out that the Starburst were my idea."

"Seth Rogen, Mackenzie Bolton," Jay said, sounding touched. "You are just the best people."

"Oh sweetie," I said, hugging him round the neck from behind. "We do try."

"Yeah, we know you don't love it in LA so we figure we'll make it…y'know, we'll lube up your entry a little," explained Seth.

"It eases the transition," agreed Jay. "This is the much-needed foreplay."

I pulled a disgusted face. "Nice analogy, guys. And on that note," I slapped my hands on the sofa and stood up with a stretch. "I shall leave you to your man time. I've got stuff to do anyway. Catch you on the flipside." That 'stuff' was the two hours it would take for me to get ready for Franco's party.

I left the boys to it, grabbing some towels from my room and stepping into the en suite shower room, stripping off my sweats and crop top. Even through the sounds of the shower hammering against the glass shower door I could still hear what sounded like Jay and Seth running a fucking marathon. The Backstreet Boys' Everybody (Backstreet's Back) was also being played so often I was ready to go out there and throw the iPod dock out the goddamn window.

Still, I was so happy that Jay was here, and that he was actually acting like he wanted to be here. I knew just how much he really did hate it in Los Angeles, what with his stupid hipster attitude to life, so being honest, actually managing to persuade him to get on a plane and fly over here was a miracle in itself.

"Everybody, yeah," I sang, massaging shampoo into my hair. "Rock your body, yeah. Everybody, rock your body right. Backstreet's back, ALRIGHT!" Okay, so I was officially going to kill those two for getting that fucking song stuck in my head.

I shut off the shower and groped around for the towels that I'd dumped on the floor, eyes shut against the remaining suds that were attempting to battle their way into my retinas. I rubbed one against my face before tying my hair up in a towel turban and wrapped the other one around my soaking frame, padding into the bedroom and opening the wardrobe.

Great. Now for the difficult part. What in the name of hell was I supposed to wear? A lot of famous people were gonna be there, like a lot. That called for more than my usual skinny-jeans-and-tank-top attire. But then again, it wasn't exactly like this was going to be a formal occasion! I couldn't turn up in one of my signature Hervé Leger bandage dresses like it was a red carpet event! GAH!

Okay. Middle ground, middle ground…I thought desperately, flicking through the few clothes I'd brought to Seth's. Eventually, I settled on a pair of black shorts, glossy black tights, an orange camisole, a leather jacket and black spike-heeled ankle boots. That seemed like the happy medium.

I dressed at a leisurely pace, then set to drying my hair with my hairdryer. I left it floating down in natural waves around my shoulders and down my back- my favourite style. I could never be bothered with all the curling tongs/hair mousse/hair gel/hair dye bullshit.

I didn't apply any makeup yet; I'd wait until half an hour before we left. Instead, I went through to the guys to tell them they had an hour before we needed to move our asses. I walked in on Seth announcing, "My eyes feel like they're melting."

"Because that's healthy," I commented, making them both jump.

"Jesus, Mack!" gasped Jay. He turned round and looked at me. "What're you all dressed up for?"

"For…wait." I narrowed my eyes at Seth. "Dude, you didn't tell him?"

"Um…" was all Seth said.

"For fuck sake, Rogen!" I groaned, whacking the back of his head. "Great. So you're gonna spring this on the poor man an hour before we leave?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Oh right. Jay was still in the room.

"Actually, Mack was just thinking-" thwack. "-ow! Mack and I were thinking that we should go to Franco's house soon. He's having a housewarming party; he just finished building his house. I haven't even seen it yet, but it's supposed to be bonkers!"

"I can confirm that the house is indeed bonkers," I said. "James emailed Dave some pics about two, three weeks ago just before they finished building. Seriously, that shit isn't a house; it's a fucking art piece."

"I haven't been in LA in like, a year," Jay pointed out. "And I came here to chill with you guys."

"We can chill together, and we'll chill with those other guys," Seth suggested.

"Yeah, we can chill as a pack," I said. "A pack of…chillers."

"Will I even know anyone there?" Jay demanded.

"You know James Franco," Seth reminded him.

"James Franco can't even remember my name," Jay said bitterly.

"It's cool, he forgets it tonight and I elbow him in the dick," I said. "No biggie. And hey, Jonah Hill's gonna be there too."

"Can't stand him, he can't stand me," Jay said.

"He's like the nicest guy in the world! He likes you so much!" Seth sounded genuinely surprised, even though we knew there had been some tension between Jay and Jonah, right from our How To Train Your Dragon days. "Out of nowhere, he just said, 'You know what? Jay's an inspiration'." Jesus, laying it on a bit thick, bro!

Jay saw right through this. "There is no way he said that, also, just can't stand him."

"Okay, fine," Seth said exasperatedly. "Craig Robinson."

"Never met him," Jay said sulkily. He was getting beating down and was gonna crack, I could tell.

"He's an absolutely hilarious dude," I said, smiling.

"Yeah! He sweats a lot, but he's a great guy," added Seth. "So it's gonna be fun, man."

"Pleeaasee come Jay!" I begged, forcing myself into the gap between the guys and- somewhat irritatingly, I'm sure- began headbutting Jay's shoulder. "Please, please, please, pleeaasee!"

"Okay," he finally agreed. "For you, I will go."

"Yesss!" I cheered, fist-pumping the air.

"I promise, I'll stay with you all night," assured Seth. "Okay?"

"Yeah, and so will I," promised.

"See?" Seth pointed at me. "Mack's got your back too. We won't ditch you-" At this point, Jay tried to interrupt him. "No, because we want to be with you all night. Right, Mack?"

"Fucking A-right, my man."

"And you know why else?" he continued. He reached over me and caressed Jay's cheek. "'Cause nobody puts Jay in the corner."

Jay simply batted his hand away.

So we succeeded in getting Jay into a taxi on the way to Franco's. So that was Miracle Number Two of the day. I myself was actually pretty buzzed for the party. I hadn't seen James in person in about a month, because the way I saw it FaceTime did not count. He'd been busy filming and sorting out the final details of his house, and I'd been prepping for filming to start on Kick-Ass 2 where I was playing Rosa Holmes, or Lady Katana, master swordswoman of the Toxic Mega Cunts.

"Come on Jay, smile!" I said in a sing-song voice. "It really won't be as bad as you think. I promise." Jay just continued to glower out the window. I kicked him in the shin. "Smile, for fuck sake!"

"I'm going to really hate this," he muttered.

"God, you are such a party pooper," I remarked. All he did was frown at me and glare out the taxi window. I was seriously resisting the urge to grab him by the scruff of his t-shirt, shaking him and scream, "LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP!"

I watched his face growing steadily more and more sulky as we drove through Hollywood, and saw him form a face like thunder as soon as we pulled up outside Franco's insane-looking house.

"Awesome!" said Seth as we drew to a stop.

"Holy shit," I breathed as I paid the cabbie and the three of us exited the taxi. "It's even more impressive in person. Or would that be in house?"

"This is crazy," Seth agreed.

"Yeah?" Jay didn't sound so sure.

Seth turned to look at him. "Yeah, man, right? Look at it!"

"It's a bit much," said Jay, ever the pessimist.

"I don't think it is too much," defended Seth.

"It's the right amount of 'much'," I said.

"I think it's right on the money," said Seth.

"What is he, Pablo Escobar?!" demanded Jay.

"Come on man, this is an awesome street!" Seth tried to persuade him. "Channing Tatum lives up there!"

"For the love of-" sighed Jay. "Will you stop talking about-"

"This is the sexiest street in America," Seth interrupted.

"What is it with you and Channing Tatum?" I asked.

"I think he's attractive," Seth replied defensively.

"Yeah, you and ninety-two percent of the world," I retorted as we approached Franco's front door and Seth knocked.

"I think it's a cool house," he said.

"I know you do," said Jay, rolling his eyes.

"I can't wait to see inside it," Seth continued. "That's why I'm excited!"

"We get it!" I said exasperatedly. "You're excited! Just shut up, man!" That was when the door opened.

"Ha-hey! Yes!" cheered James, pulling Seth into a man-hug. "What's up man?! Seth!"

"Hey man, how's it going?"

"Hey! Let's get some loving over here too!" I exclaimed, pushing Seth behind me. "What up, my brother!"

"What's up, my brother's ho!" he laughed, pulling me into a hug too. "Mack, it's been way too long!"

"Urgh, tell me about it," I replied as we let go of each other. "This house better be worth it."

"You look taller," he commented.

"Yeah, well, I can never wear heels when your brother's around, can I?" I quipped. "Since he's such a short-ass that we're the same height."

"Wait, is he not here?"

"Hate to say it, but no," I said regretfully. "Filming's delayed, which is so totally shit."

"Fuck. Well, I'm so happy you're both here," he said.

"We're so happy to be here," said Seth.

"Hey, Johnny, what's up?" James said heartily, shaking Jay's hand.

"It's just Jay," he corrected in a tone that was one hundred percent 'just don't act like I'm bothered by this. FYI, I'm really bothered by this.'

"It's Jay," I affirmed. "How many times have I gotta remind you, Franco? Seriously, you get his name wrong again and I will straight-up elbow you in the dick. Got it?"

"I'll never forget it again, man," he said, quickly hugging Jay too, who looked very uncomfortable. "Good to see you! Come on in," he invited.

"Yeah. Yeah, great," Jay said, his false enthusiasm already faltering.

"Check it out!" James announced, gesturing around the huge living area we were now standing in. "My new place!"

"Awesome, man!" Seth said admiringly.

I merely repeated my sentiments from earlier. "Ho-ly shit, dude. This is crazy!"

"Designed it myself," James said proudly.

"I can tell," I teased. "This place has 'James Franco's twisted imagination' written all over it. Especially the dick statue." I jerked my thumb in the direction of said statue. "Compensating for anything?"

"Well, I think it's really cool," said Seth. "This place is beautiful, man."

"Kiss-ass," I mock-coughed.

"This place is like a piece of me," James said in his typical melodramatic way. "You three just stepped inside me."

Jay and I both pulled revolted faces, but Seth carried on the joke with, "You let us all come inside you. Yeah."

"The icing on the cake," James said mysteriously. "Check it out." He gestured up, and revealed to us two hand-painted canvasses that read James Franco and Seth Rogen. The A in James and Franco spread through both the names, and the Es in Seth and Rogen were linked too. "Painted them myself."

"We can tell," I said. "I'm more than a little offended that I'm not up there too."

"Your name's too long," he teased. He looked at Seth for his reaction. "Side by side. A team."

"Holy shit," Seth said with a laugh.

"So is it…weird?" James asked anxiously, or as close to anxious as James could get.

"No," Seth assured him, but I did catch Jay nodding his head, though quickly turned this into a shake of 'no.'

"You sure?" James pressed.

"I really like it," Seth promised.

"So Kenzie, what do you think?"

"I think I'd like it more if my name was up there too."

"What do you think, Jay?" Well, props to the man for actually getting Jay's name right.

Jay shrugged. "I'm not a big art guy."

"Oh shit," I said under my breath. Don't ever, ever, ever say you don't like art in front of James Franco unless you want a ten-minute lecture on how everything around you is, in fact, art.

"You don't like art?" James asked. Oh Jesus, right on cue.

"Well, come on," Jay said. "I-"

"You play video games?" James cut across him.

"Yes," Jay replied warily.

"Well guess what, buddy? You like art."

"Yup," Jay said with a nod.

"You ever been to Subway?"

"Yes."

"You order a sandwich? Someone put that together for you, dude. That's art."

"Sandwich artist," Seth tacked on.

"So let me lay this on you, Jay," James said.

"Oh fuck," Jay and I said in unison, as I knew exactly what was coming, having had the same lecture a couple of months back.

"Your momma's pussy was the canvas, your dad's dick was the paintbrush. Boom-" he clicked at Jay. "You're the art. Huh?"

Jay clearly had literally no idea how to reply. "Thanks, James Franco."

"And on that highly disturbing note," I said, flicking my hair over my shoulder. "I'm going to mingle. Seth, Jay, Franco." I nodded at them each in turn before turning on my heel.

"Oh my God, Jason!" I shrieked, throwing my arms out. "It's been forever, bro!"

"Hey, Mackenzie!" Jason Segel replied, giving me a hug. "Long time, no see!"

"How many years has it been?" I asked. "Like, four, yeah?"

"Something like that," he replied. "So how's How I Met Your Mother's most hated character these days?" My character Tamara had been a complete bitch, your typical spoiled rich daddy's girl who dangled Ted on a string for months. There had been hate mail sent to the screenwriters to have her violently killed off- and I loved it.

"I'm good. Awesome, actually," I said with a smile. "I've got some good projects lined up in the next few months and they're looking positive. Yourself?"

Jason and I spent a good fifteen minutes catching up on news from the last four years. Then I saw someone else across the room.

"Dude. Dude. Dude!" I exclaimed, clutching his arm. "It's Rihanna! Oh my God, it's Rihanna! I fucking love her! Holy fuck! I gotta go talk to her!" And before Jason could even reply, I was speeding across the room to where Rihanna was standing by a table near…oh fantastic. Michael Cera.

Over the last couple of years, Michael had turned into a real douchebag. We'd been good friends; great friends, actually. From Superbad right up until a couple of Christmases ago, Michael and I had been pretty close. But then he discovered the joys of cocaine.

I won't deny it, I've taken coke in the past. Twice, to be exact. I hated both times, and had vowed to stick to the floatier stuff like weed and shrooms. But Michael got totally hooked on it, and now could barely live without the stuff. So now, every time I saw him he was totally coked off his nut, unable to string more than two sentences together. Tonight would clearly be no exception as I watched him vacuum up three lines in as many seconds.

"What's up Kenzie?" he slurred at me as I approached.

"Hi Mike," I said contemptuously, barely looking at him. I really couldn't be fucked with his shit right now.

"You're looking smoking hot tonight, darlin'," he drawled, attempting to squeeze my ass, so I quickly grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm around.

"You even try and touch my ass, Cera, and I will give you a stump where your hand used to be," I snarled, thrusting his hand back at him. "Got it?"

"Chill out, beautiful," he said infuriatingly, so I made a noise of discontentment back as I approached Rihanna.

"Hey, Rihanna," I said excitedly, offering my hand to her. "I am a huge fan! It's so great to meet you!"

"Thanks," she said, shaking my hand (I had to refrain from squealing in fangirl delight) "You're Mackenzie, right?"

"Yeah, I am," I replied. "You know of me?" Try to remain calm. Try to remain calm. An A-list celebrity knows your name. It's fine. Just chill. JUST CHILL.

"Yeah, y'know, I've seen you in some stuff," she said. "You were in 21 Jump Street right?"

"Yeah, I was," I said.

"Hi Rihanna," said Jason, coming up behind me.

"Hey Jason," she replied, smiling at him. We talked as a three-way for a while, and I literally couldn't get it into my head that I was talking to Rihanna. The press always portrayed her as a conceited, arrogant bitch, but in reality she was pretty nice…if a little aggressive.

"I've seen a shrink maybe twice?" I said. "Once when I was nineteen, after my Mom died, and then I saw one in 2008 when all of my work just got on top of me and I freaked out from the stress." And by 'freaked out' I mean I smashed up my neighbour's car and got two hundred hours community service for it. I went full-out Britney Spears, minus the head shaving.

"So, Ri-Ri, what about you?" Jason asked. "You ever see a psychiatrist?"

"Um…" She thought for a few moments when there was this sudden whack sound as Michael slapped her ass. Rihanna didn't even hesitate as she turned around and full-on bitch-slapped Michael clean in the face, the sound of the blow echoing through the packed room.

Michael reeled backwards, clutching his ear. "That's not cool!"

"Don't touch my butt, bitch!" she warned him.

"Michael, that's not cool!" Jason said.

"Shut the fuck up, Jason!" Michael shouted, slapping the table. "We're playing a game, man!" Jason raised his hands in armistice and Michael grinned cockily at Rihanna. "Say cheese, baby."

"Wow. I need some air," I said quickly, eyeing up the open back doors. "I'll see you guys around." I moved as quickly as I could to put a wall between myself and Michael. I spent a few moments catching up with Craig Robinson, who I hadn't seen for about ten months, and Emma Watson, who was quick to pick up on and admire the Harry Potter-themed tattoo on my left wrist. I'd had Always written in simple black scripture with a Deathly Hallows symbol for the A after I'd seen the final movie; it was my all-time favourite book series.

I was standing by the pool by myself, sipping from a plastic cup of vodka and cranberry when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and came face-to-face with Chris Mintz-Plasse, my Superbad co-star and close friend. There'd been some speculation on set if we'd get together, but the only intimate moment we'd ever shared was the world's most awkward kiss between Fogell and Clarissa at the party.

"Fogell! Hi!" I shrieked, my absolute favourite line from the movie, putting my arms around him and hugging him close.

"Hey Kenzie, how are you?" he asked, hugging me back.

"I'm great! Hey, I got my script for Kick-Ass the other day," I said. "Have you got yours?"

"Yeah, I got it I think, on Monday."

"I assume that, um," I cleared my throat awkwardly. "You read page ninety-three yet?"

Chris blushed a little. "You mean the sex scene?"

"No, I mean the totally unwilling, borderline rape sex scene," I said grimly. "The totally unwilling, borderline rape sex scene where I nearly cut your dick off with a katana. That's gonna be fun to film."

"What are we filming?" a very familiar voice questioned, and Jonah Hill walked into view, grinning his typical 'I like to think of myself as America's Sweetheart' grin.

"Jonah, my man!" I said, clasping his hand and backslapping him. "Aw, look at this! The Superbad crew reunited."

"We should totally do a sequel," Jonah suggested. "Like, life after college. We'd smash the box office!"

"Yeah, we totally would! Oh my God, brainstorm moment!" I exclaimed "Plot twist: Clarissa and Seth are married now and have like two kids and Seth totally hates his life and Rissa is literally a pen away from signing the divorce papers! And Fogell should be gay," I added as an afterthought.

"What?! Why is Fogell gay!?" demanded Chris.

"Because it works," I insisted. "And Evan should just, like, be dead. He got hit by a bus. Saves us from having to work with Michael in his current…state, shall we say."

"Hey, he's not that bad," said Jonah, but he did frown. And it was at that moment that Michael chose to stumble his way over to us, bleary-eyed and grinning like a maniac.

"Reunion!" he slurred. "Hey, let's get on that sequel, bitches."

"For fuck sake, Michael," I sighed. "You're totally fucked up. Again."

"Shut the fuck up Kenzie," he snapped. "You're so boring now! Hey Chris!" he added, way peppier.

"How's it going?" Chris laughed uneasily.

"Hey, does this coke smell funny?" Michael asked, and he suddenly blew a handful of white powder into Chris' face.

"Fuck, Michael!" Chris spluttered, wiping his face frantically.

"Michael, what the fuck, man!" demanded Jonah.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I yelled at him, grabbing Chris by the shoulders and trying to calm him down.

Michael was oblivious to mine and Jonah's outbursts. "That's expensive shit, motherfucker!"

"What are you doing?!" said Jonah.

"I've never fucking done cocaine, dude!" Chris shrieked, still wiping at his face. "Why does it fucking…?!" he trailed off, looking terrified.

"Well you did the best shit possible for your first time," Michael said smugly. "Because that's good fucking-"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Chris' panicking totally cut across Michael's stupid spiel. "I'm nervous, dude! I don't know what-!" He looked at Jonah and I for help.

"What is wrong with you, man?!" exclaimed Jonah, putting a warning hand on Michael's upper arm.

"Look, he's freaking out!" Michael laughed at Chris.

"Chris, just chill out!" I ordered, seizing his head and making him look at me. "You are fine! I promise you!"

"I've never done this fucking drug before, man!" he yelped, pulling away from me.

"Mike, please!" Jonah attempted to stop Michael manhandling Chris even more.

Instead, Michael leaned in close to Chris' face. "I'll walk you through it. I will walk you through it."

"Michael, no one is asking-" I began angrily, but he physically put his hand over my mouth to shut me up. Bastard.

"I'll be your guide," he insisted, getting even more up in Chris' grill.

"You're fine, Chris," Jonah was assuring him. "You're fine."

"You got some in your moustache, baby!" Michael said almost seductively, looking like he was about to kiss Chris as he blew on the poor man's face.

"What are you-" Chris shouted, pushing him back. "Michael!"

That was when I bit the hand Michael still had over my mouth. "Fuck off, Cera!" I screamed, shoving him back violently and causing him to crash down to the stone floor. I jerked my jacket sleeve back up my arm angrily, as it had fallen down when I'd shoved him.

"Kenzie, you bitch! That fucking hurt!" he whined, lurching to his feet and stumbling back into the house.

I turned back to Chris and Jonah, breathing heavily. "You see why I want him killed off now?!" They both nodded slowly. "Thought so."

A/N- Again, I just wanna say thank you so much for the feedback I've already received! You're so awesome! I hope you liked the chapter! The end of the world is imminent! So leave a review, give me a follow and I'll update soon! Xx Gee xX

PS- Check out dat Polyvore collection. The link's on my profile!

Disclaimer to apply from now on: All chapter titles are and will be lyrics from Hollywood Whore by Papa Roach.