A leather jacket was thrown into the arms of a flustered girl. She glanced at her boyfriend with wide eyes. It was still meaningful. He focused on a choker of dripping diamonds on her satin bedspread. He was always awed by the jewels her family maintained. Diamonds and pearls weren't necessarily valuable but that certain necklace was close to her world because it'd been previously owned by her father's late mother and after much persuading, he'd given it to her as a birthday present. She loved seeing each crystal shimmer.
But when she was with him, no jewel could compare to her feelings. She felt intensity she never held for any other. Could this be love? This fast? She was only fifteen and they were only dating for four months. No one accepted him: her father despised him, her brother found him unpleasant, and even Claire disliked him.
They were just jealous. They never understood love even if they'd seen it with their own eyes. Like they were so obviously blind.
She threw her thoughts aside and held the jacket to him timidly. "David, this is your favorite. Why would you give it to me? You've had it for so long." she breathed and noticed the corners of his mouth rise, his eyes smoldered like wildfire. "What's so funny? Was it something I said?"
David shook his head and with his fingertips, he smoothes strands away from his girlfriend's face."Nah, you just amusing." he replied and tucked a lock behind her ear. She smiled and didn't brush him off rudely like she should've. "I want you to have it because I got us tickets to see Joan Jett tonight."
She gaped broadly and her eyebrows arched before she returned her gaze to the jacket in her hands, nails tracing the rips in the sleeves and the studs aligning the collar. "Well, um, that's nice." she commented and felt her cheeks warm. "But I don't have an outfit pressed and I need to finish my homework and I hate to say but I don't exactly know who Joan Jett is."
He stepped away, hand retreating from hers as he held up an index finger, smirk never falling. "Ah, ah, ah, you said you wanna be a rebel, right?" he asked and she reluctantly nodded. "Good answer. The first rule of bein' one is no need to get your clothes ironed. You ain't supposed to care about what you wear. Just throw on a shirt and jacket and you're good to go."
"Um, okay." she replied and went for her closet, reappearing with a plain tee and jeans. "Is this good?"
David nodded and neither smile drifted. "Perfect." He snagged his tattered jacket and tossed it. She caught it, this time with ease. "Hurry and change. We gotta ditch before your bro gets back."
Her eyelids fluttered in confusion. "Why? I think he'll get worried if we're gone. We might even get in trouble."
He stole her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm, his smirk reappeared as his lips lingered. "The point, doll."
She giggled and reached to kiss her boyfriend, their lips met in a collision of what she thought was passion.
Her eyelids flickered and her fingertips grazed his square jaw. Through that, he cracked open an eye and though he doesn't part from her, his fingers reached across her mattress to unclasp a gem from her priceless necklace.
X
"What were you thinking about?"
Bryn cranes back and clutches the torn clasp in her palms before smiling. She withdraws each ornament of the old necklace into her jewelry box and shuts it. Blue eyes narrowing amusingly when she notices how different he looked for the occasion but she couldn't talk because she'd also switched up her usual standards.
Her brother slicked his hair back and the look made the blues in his eyes pop. His eyebrows rose and he posed a weak smile. Women fawned over that sultry look. He always looked great when he went out especially today in a fitted suit and black tie.
She shakes her head and stands, erecting posture in a smile, hers matching his. "Just about our fifteenth year." she admits and his smile falls, his eyebrows furrow and denting frowns ruin it. "Sorry, it's just been on my mind a lot lately." She adjusts the sleeve of her one-shouldered white dress and spun their father's wedding band around her thumb.
"Well, don't let it." he tells her and she could practically feel the venom. "We're supposed to have fun tonight. Let David be farthest from your mind." He places a hand on her forearm and his smile returns. "Relax, okay? And if Javier does anything to hurt you, I'll gladly kick his ass."
She giggles and punches his bicep. "I'll beat you to the punch this time around."
This time, he chuckles and the glow in his eyes brighten. "I know that's true." he replies. "But I have to go early, I'm gonna get Tinsley. You don't mind waiting out here for a while, right?"
"Not today. I'm goin' to spend most of the night thinking, anyway."
They leave her room and she takes her leather jacket off the brass doorknob, shutting the door. "It better not be about David."
"It's not. So no need to worry, young brother." she responds causing his brow to rise. "Chill."
"Fine." he answers strictly and nods as they reach the entrance of their house. He unlocks the door, allowing twilight colors to spill in. "And in addition, I'm older." He stands in the doorway and keeps his smile though it weakens. "Just be careful and call me if anything."
"Sure, sure, back at 'cha." Bryn chimes, pushing him out the door. "Don't keep Tinsley waiting."
Harper looks at her before Bryn tosses him keys. "Have fun but not too much." she says and her words resemble an officer. "We don't need any Harper Juniors running around here."
He laughs casually and pockets his keys. "I don't plan on being that wild. I'm not you." he jokes and she smirks. "I'll see you later."
She waves with fake cheerfulness and with another laugh, he disappears out the door.
She doesn't watch him leave and shuts the door, grabs a cigarette off the piano top and observes it, keen eyes inspecting every angle. To her surprise, she doesn't light it and only throws it aside, hoping Harper won't find it because he sometimes chastised when she left cigarettes around the house.
For some reason, she really didn't care today. She usually did whatever people expected her to. Today, she just didn't feel like it. She could do whatever she desired and no one could do anything about it.
Those chains of obedience no longer bounded her. She didn't have to obey anyone anymore. She's Bryn Blackwell.
And when you are, you could do whatever the hell you want.
X
"That's finished? Good. And so is that? Better." Claire compliments and took slow steps in her Jimmy Choos, strappy gold ribbons tied at her ankles as she crosses the cold marble. Her gold taffeta dress fans around her legs and dons a low neckline, pearly bangles shook as she flicks her wrists countlessly at the staff. "I'm quite pleased with how this turned out, even through my volunteers' incompetence."
From the side, a few of Claire's minions, respectively dressed, clear their throats loudly and cough into their palms. Being what she assumed a great queen, she ignores them. Her eyes flit to one of the sprays of flowers on the ice sculpture, cream-and-lavender calla lilies held in the hands of the angel, its icy silhouette arched gracefully. Silver, leafless, tree objects surround the venue and dangling from the ceiling is a brilliant chandelier that spills light like falling snow. The resident bee smiles in resignation.
Her work is flawless and if it wasn't for her excellent instruction, none of this would have been made possible.
She accepts a flute of champagne from a waiter in a white bowtie and trousers. Though it seemed exceptionally appealing, she wanted to concentrate on making the gala grand due to her last one in October and Vena's antics the event was a failure.
Embarrassingly enough, she even engaged in a catfight with her, which ended as a live feed on Gossip Bee's blog.
There aren't even words to describe how terrible that was.
"Hey, Claire," Dean calls and strides over in a silver suit, tumbler of vodka in hand. He touches her forearm and the vise grip she held on her glass weakens. "Tense?"
She nods and tips her head back to drink. Screw it. "Just a bit." she breathes, enjoying the warm fluttering it gave her. "As long as that … monstrosity Vena doesn't come to sabotage anything I'll be fine because I actually put real effort into preparing."
Dean smiles, dimples stain his cheekbones. "It's surprising to know you didn't care much for the last one after all the work you put into it." His fingers drop from caressing her arm and he takes a thoughtful sip of his vodka, letting the liquid travel down his throat. "You're usually so dedicated."
"I was planning on staying true to my previous … party but everything got so out of hand." Claire admits and swishes her champagne around in its sparkling glass. "There was no use of saving it but this will surely be great, especially with the doubled security. Vena doesn't have a chance in hell at ruining this." Dean's smile widens and slowly her own arises. "And can it be any better? It's at the Empire!"
He chuckles and much to his surprise, a few giggles escape Claire. Who would've ever thought our queen bee laughed at anything other than demise?
A few attendees begin entering, all dressed as extravagantly as their hostess, donning pretty jewels at their wrists and throats, swathed in gorgeous silks and laces, and their hair in their finest 'dos.
"Wow, you did a great job, Claire." A girl with fake-blonde hair in a French twist says. "You should definitely be a party planner or something!"
Claire nods. "Thank you." The girl lumbers away and she looks back at Dean, her flush hidden in the dim lights. "And I really owe it to you too, Dean."
He blinks and drains his vodka quietly before handing his glass to a waiter. "Um, why?"
"Because." she says, as if that answers it. Dean's eyebrows lift higher and her smile is frozen as she rotates on her heel, craning her neck to look back. "Just because."
And she walks away, leaving questions as usual.
He shakes his head and from across the room, Claire meets his eyes and they share a secret smile while she mingles. There was something in their smiles, something explosive and almost romantic in that bittersweet, Upper East Side way.
It was almost meant to be.
Although it felt weird to admit, it also felt pretty damn good.
Because. Just because.
X
Tinsley slides into the plush leather of Harper's limo as the driver shuts the door behind her. Harper is silent for a few moments and the blues of his eyes smolder in a smile. He leans over and his personal scent follows – cologne, nice soap, and … him. It felt good for the night. He was hers and she was his.
They belonged together and no one could change that. Vena couldn't interfere, Claire, Bryn, their parents …
Though none of them didn't necessarily care.
She smiles at Harper when he stays in her eyes, fingers smoothing creases, eyes soft. "You look beautiful." he murmurs and observes the dress that clung to her curves, her blonde hair high in a ponytail that flows down her back like loose gold yarn. "Honestly, you do."
Claire said he gave the best compliments.
"Thanks," she responds and slides towards him, fingertips brushing his knees. "You don't look bad yourself. You don't look bad at all."
Harper chuckles and looks away, fingers caressing her define cheekbones. "You sure give compliments. You must've been a great girlfriend."
The car was moving now and she knew they were nearing Claire's gala due to the flashbulbs glowing through the tinted windows.
But Harper spoiled her so much. It didn't even feel like the world was revolving anymore.
"You're probably the only one who thinks that." she replies, shoulders slumping, his hand slowly falls from her face to grip her shoulder. "I wasn't too … nice long ago."
"Do tell." he adds after a moment, sounding like a middle-aged man rather than a teenager. "It would be nice to know more about you,"
She opens her mouth and suddenly felt the words died beyond her lips. She closes her mouth and tightens her lips. She wanted to tell him everything but the thought of his reaction brought fear into her. Who knows what would happen? Bryn always said he tended to overreact and if she told him about her past, he'd probably never speak to her again.
"I'll tell you about myself if you tell me about yourself." she told him with a sultry eyebrow raised. "Sound fair?"
"Yeah, fair enough," he agrees and retreats his hand to his tie when he notices they were nearing The Empire. Bright flashbulbs and camera clicks erupt in the night sky and shine through the windows, grabbing glimpses of them. The driver unlocks their doors and Tinsley puts her hand on the door before looking back at Harper, who keeps his gaze focused on her. "Are you ready to have the time of your life at Jurassic Park?"
Tinsley giggles and slides away from the door to Harper. "You're something else you know that?" she asks and places a hand on his forearm. "You truly are."
The flashes brighten fiercer, the car comes to a halt and Tinsley's fingertips touch the door again, irises glimmering. Though she doesn't say anything at first, she can't help but stay in his eyes. Drowning through the deep pools that they were.
Their faces close, foreheads nearly touching, lips inches apart – so close they could practically feel each other's rush breaths, warm with taste.
They could only wonder what would happen if they kissed again.
But they didn't.
Their locked gazes split apart and Tinsley reaches for the door. Someone immediately nabs her arm and when she turns, Harper's lips met hers and he leans over her as they passionately embrace.
Inside a limo. Where all great things happen.
And some things you just would've never expected.
X
Javier strode up the cobblestones leading to the Blackwell Mansion. He never really entered the place, mostly because Bryn has spent her time at his and witnessing the estate in person seems almost unreal or rather expected. Just from the outside, you can see how much wealth is bestowed upon the family. The grass in the backyard is clean and neat hedges sprout growing buds. The windows on the higher floors are ornate with colorful mosaics, the entrance doors are wide. Once he finishes the path, he went to ring the bell – a musical chime rang through the villa and after a few seconds …
"Door's open!"
He raises a brow and turns the closest knob, entering in silence, eying the interior that can outmatch any five-star hotel. Painted portraits of what he assumes are the Blackwells' ancestors hung along the walls; a grand piano sits near a window that held an exquisite view of a small garden. A few pictures in silver frames reside on the tables, a flight of carpeted stairs ran up the next floor and noisy rustling is heard from above.
Yet no Bryn in sight.
Who let him in, then?
"Sorry, sorry!" A voice calls from the stairs and he looks to see Bryn hurrying down, clenching her leather jacket by a sleeve, a Bluetooth carefully tucked in her hair. She looks to Javier, the pitch in her voice suddenly gone in her next words. "One of my father's old business associates called for every reason unknown. Can you stay down here for about a minute or two longer? This is kinda important."
He shakes his head and smiles. "Don't worry about it. Go finish your call. I'll be waiting for you, Princess." Bryn rolls her eyes and laughs before she disappears down a corridor, speaking in fluid Italian on the line, her voice accenting on every few words.
His smile leaves once he can no longer see her and he approaches a table that held a dozen picture frames. Images of Bryn and Harper mostly surround the table – Bryn holding up a guitar as a child, Harper on his father's shoulders as a kid, their father at his desk, one of Claire, and one in a gleaming frame of an unrecognizable couple on their wedding day, hands clasped and eyes shimmering.
The woman had dark gold hair in an intricate bun, pale blonde highlights and sprays of cream pearls and ornamental diamonds formed a jeweled halo at her crown. A translucent veil clouded her face and that couldn't even hide her smile. She wore a gorgeous wedding gown that flowed behind her with a grand ivory train, two silk straps knotted at the crook of her neck with sapphires at her throat. On her arm was her husband, who wore a much brighter smile, his hair slicked back, and a tuxedo in perfect place.
They looked like a true couple. What a miracle it was for someone to find their match.
Javier continues staring, eyes narrow. He lifts the frame, making sure to use care as he observes the woman. She looked a lot like Harper with the blonde hair and even shared the blue eyes the twins shared. Who was she? She looked familiar somehow.
"That's my mother." Bryn says and comes down the hall and over to him. She stops at his side and gives the photo a quick glance before lowering her eyes to the other displayed photographs across the table. "And her new husband. They've been married … a year and a few months now." He places the frame back in its place and looks over her. She appears collected when talking about her family but he sees something odd in her eyes.
Emptiness.
"Do you like her new husband?" he questions and places his palm in the curve of her back. She doesn't flinch away like he expected, only leans in.
"He's alright, I guess," She shrugs and pursues her lips. "I find him much more tolerable than my mother. I wonder how he could deal with her sometimes … he really loves her." Her eyelids flutter and her mascaraed lashes caress the tops of her cheekbones. "But he's just too young, my … father thought so, too."
"How young can someone be? What is it … two? Three years?" he inquires and looks to see her smile secretly, a faint laugh. "You're making me feel stupid. Five? Six? How far apart could they be?"
She cranes her neck to look up at him, smirk in place. "My mother's forty-six. Her husband just turned twenty-two."
He can't help but chuckle and looks at her, wide-eyed. "Are you serious? That's … something. What did you think of that particular wedding, Blackwell? Your mother certainly made a beautiful bride but I'm sure you looked even better in your Doc Martens and leather pants."
"I didn't go." she stats and removes the Bluetooth. "I didn't want to, so I didn't. Harper did so you could always ask him but weddings just aren't my thing. Tony wanted me to go but I skipped and the least I could've done was respect my mother's wishes so I did."
"What do you mean respect her wishes? Wouldn't she have wanted you there? You are her only daughter after all."
Bryn shrugs again and this time it's more casual. "She doesn't like me much. She admitted a few harsh things to my face before but I don't really care. We were never really close."
His hands linger on her hips. "I'm sorry." he apologizes and it's probably the first time he has ever offered his apology and meant it.
She removes his hand and turns to him, smiling, almost like she wasn't bothered at all by talking about something so personal – which she probably wasn't.
"You don't have to say sorry, okay?" she responds and glances at another picture of Harper at his championship lacrosse game looking as athletic as always. "Like I said, it doesn't bother me. I bet if you meet her one day you'll probably see why."
He presses his palm to her, cradling her face in his hands. "You're definitely the rebel of the Upper East Side."
She doesn't force his hand off, narrows her eyes. "And you're the playboy of the Upper East Side. Now, what?"
The blonde smirks. "I'm glad you realize that because I always get what I want." His fingers lower to caress the outline of her jaw and she finally pushes his hand off to pull on her jacket. Sprinkles of snow fall from the twilight sky, clinging to the cobblestones. "And I want you."
Bryn smirks and rolls her eyes. "Yes and I want an endless supply of cigarettes but we can't all get what we want." She playfully hits his bicep and curls her fingers up his arm before taking him to the door. "Come on, Romeo, we're not missing this. I actually wanna see what Claire's been bragging about all this time."
X
"Oh, Claire!" Vena chimes, milking fake cheeriness when she dashes for Claire in black lace booties. Her legs veiled in fishnets and dark hair drowning her back. Her dress is coal black and just above her knees, being strapless and having a low back. She looks like a black swan lost in a crowd of white ducks. When she came to Claire, she grabs her hands and brings the other girl close. "You look great! I can't believe it! What's that dress, anyway? Valentino? Marc Jacobs?"
Claire forces a smile and slides out of Vena's grasp, avoiding a scene and a rip in her dress. "Reem Acra. I'm not exactly a hugging person so don't do that again." She narrows her eyes at the seductress. "Anyway," She waits until Matt distances, the musician in a maroon tuxedo and thin tie. He actually looked decent for once. "Who exactly invited you? Because I'm certain the selfish bitch wasn't on the list."
"Actually, darling, Matt Stradlin did." she claims and directs a hand to where he accepts a flute of red wine from a waitress. "You may know him. Remember the wannabe punk who earned his first kiss from our Tinsley?"
Claire grits her teeth and says nothing. Vena smirks winningly and heads toward her date as she reaches him, she stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
Not wanting to see anymore, Claire returns to mingle and Vena gazes up at Matt, her lashes deepen and her eyes contrast in the lights. "I'm glad you let me on your arm tonight, I've never felt so lucky."
Matt shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." he assures. "It's cool to come wit someone good-looking."
"Thank you, love." she murmurs and brushes her fingertips along his jaw. "But I must tell you something, it's very important." She looks around suspiciously and snatches Matt's wrist, leading him through the crowd and stopping once she sees no one they knew. "You're close to Tinsley, aren't you?"
"Um, yeah, I guess you could say that." he answers, unsure of Vena's suspicions. "Why?"
"I would say no reason but that doesn't quite cut it." she admits and raises her shoulders. "Tinsley's been against us and she's done enough to nearly set my home on fire. She's brutal. She was never a good person even when we were friends. I just want to give you my warning, I don't want her to hurt you. I love you too much." Matt's eyes narrow and he nods cautiously, partially trusting her. He'd always known Tinsley and she has never done anything that bad but had she changed now that she was with Harper?
"Alright, I'll heed your advice." he voices. "Let's just not worry about anything. It's New Year's - all you need to care about tonight are your resolutions and who you're going to kiss at midnight."
A seductive brow arches. "I have my eye on somebody."
She wasn't exactly showing him the honesty he wanted.
"We shouldn't worry about these trivial things anyway, we have so much time." Vena chimes and giggles quake her but to her surprise, Matt doesn't join in and she quickly cuts off. "If you don't mind, may I go fix my makeup? I'll have to make it impeccable for midnight after all."
The shag-donning guitarist lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Whatever."
Vena manages with her fury as she weaves through the attendees and once out of Matt's sight, she activates her cell phone, dialing her speed dial. She presses the phone to her ear and keeps her place in a half-empty corridor, hiding herself behind a pot of hydrangeas.
"Took you long enough." she sneers. "Let's cut to the chase, do you have the PCP?"
The person on the line speaks and the bad connection crackles. Her lips rise in an achieved smirk and she nods. "Good," she says, lowering her voice. "I'll be right out."
And from afar, a confused Steven scratches his scalp questioningly while keeping his eyes focused on the menace. "Weird." he mumbles and smiles, dimples thick in his cheekbones. "She is definitely on the meth."
X
Dean hands Floria a flute of scotch. "Aren't you supposed to be dancing with your partner?" he asks, looking around for Steven, who is nowhere to be seen. He straightens his tie and chuckles when Floria rolls her eyes. "Or did he go off to find himself a nonalcoholic drink? The poor guy's been making himself suffer without a decent daiquiri."
"He still wants to keep his promise with Bryn since he nearly killed himself two months ago." Floria stats and tucks a curl behind an ear, hair in a braided bun. She sports a midnight black dress that sunk to the floor and a cord of black diamonds. "When Steven does something, he sticks to it and he's not much of a dancer as he is a singer."
"I don't think not much occurs in Steven's case. Illiterate is more fitting." Dean says and Floria laughs, looking over the couples dancing like modern-day Patrick Swayzes and Jennifer Greys. "He spent an hour once trying to say the word: reserved. And he thought it had to do with a doughnut."
Floria punches his lanky bicep and gives her glass to a waiter for refill. "Don't make fun of my man." she jokes and Dean smirks. "You don't exactly have woman-of-the-year on your arm."
"Don't be jealous," he quips and Floria reclaims her glass. "Claire's herself but you have to admit seeing Winnie get her dress torn to shreds and her face dunked in spiked punch is pretty entertaining."
"I thought that upset you seeing the look on your face when you came out with her." Floria admits, barely stifling laughter when Dean cocks a brow. "You didn't look too happy yourself on the gossip blog."
"It's chivalrous to do when you see a girl get drenched in punch." he tells and nods in Claire's direction. "She didn't even invite Winnie this time. She probably doesn't want to risk her social status."
"Well, technically, she's doing the right thing because Winnie isn't exactly the sweetest, according to Hayden." Floria explains. "She wants to sabotage Bryn and I find that cruel because she just disbanded The Heartbreakers. She didn't start World War III."
"Hayden's always been one for revenge and even though Bryn's motives weren't necessarily good. She doesn't deserve to suffer because I think she dealt with enough since –" He makes a fist and jabs it into his side, the universal symbol. Floria nods.
Dean directs his eyes to Steven, who stands in a corner, where most light comes from the chandeliers, his tongue stuck out as he attempts to catch a fake snowflake. His hair wildly unkempt and white dress shirt half-open, some buttons undone to reveal a well-toned collarbone. "I guess I found your date."
Floria narrows her eyes and cranes her neck to look over Claire, who seethes at two Empire employees, her eyes widening monstrously. "There's yours,"
They catch each other's gazes and smile, hold their glasses, clink them ceremoniously.
"Good luck." they say before striding to their respective dates.
X
Javier snatches the cigarette in Bryn's mouth and shoots it into a flowerpot. She narrows her eyes, the glitter on her eyelids shines as he smirks. "No smoking in The Empire, Blackwell." he commands and directs to the silver plague that reads the rule. "Especially not on a day you're supposed to be preparing war with Vena. We don't want you fainting from smoke inhalation when you're supposed to be readying ammunition."
They stand on the stairs and Bryn leans against the spiraling banister, the metal cool against her back. "That won't happen. We're already safe from any of Vena's schemes due to the destroyed blackmail she had against me." She crosses her arms and looks to the arched ceilings, potted flowers rest on secluded sills. "Especially since we also have the almighty Tinsley and Claire on our side."
"And I've rescued the … rocker-in-distress so she has no one else against me or us for that matter." Javier replies, a suave smirk falling to his face and Bryn meets his eyes in a private moment of passion. "I'm glad I did what I did."
"I'm still thankful." Bryn breathes, her words accented in cigarettes and mint. "How many more times do you want me to thank you? You keep saying how you rescued me from Vena's badly-manicured clutches."
His arms encircle her waist and he pulls her into him. "A few would be nice." he drawls and presses his lips to her throat. She swings an arm around his neck, keeping her composure and letting Javier kiss her without panicking despite how fast her heart clashed against her ribs. Reflexively, her fingers graze his jaw and his mouth on her throat felt stronger as it led to her jaw, her face, then her own.
Javier's lips left and Bryn raises her head as a porcelain urn of flowers shatters at their feet, just managing to leave them unscathed. Broken shards of painted crystal, a sheen of water, and velvet roses strewn everywhere. Bryn stiffens and felt uncharacteristic of herself as she fell into him, face in his chest as she breathes relief, regains posture, and lets her hands leave his back.
"We must really be hated." she mumbles and steps away. Glass crushes into powder beneath her heels. "Damn." She tucks a short brown lock behind an ear and looks back at Javier, who doesn't meet her eyes, only focuses on what could've injured them. Her eyebrows rise and she opens her mouth but this time, he cuts her off.
"Are you okay?" he questions, "I would be a better person here and not accuse Vena right away but these vases shouldn't have fallen accidentally." He looks up, a few more of the same vases are secured with knotted rope. One loose string dangles from above, where it had obviously been cut.
"Shaken but fine," she whispers and a few guests stare at the glass at their feet in horror. "Are you okay?"
"It could've been worse." he answers and shoots his gaze to where a flash of raven was the last he'd seen close to the vases.
He looks back at Bryn as she looks toward the doorframe, noticing familiar blurs of disgruntled blondes.
Tinsley and Harper arrive and their eyes are colorful with worry. She says nothing but Harper and she exchange glances before Tinsley rushes over to them first, her heels clipping frantically. Tinsley's gaze is thick and Harper's is the same but his held more suspicion toward Javier.
"Oh my God, we saw that vase nearly hit you two on Gossip Bee's feed!" Tinsley advises and her eyes dart between them. "It was too close for comfort."
"So was their position." Harper says, lowering his voice and glaring at Javier.
Tinsley looks away to subtly elbow Harper. He manages to hold a whimper and softens his gaze when he looks to his sister, a smirk relaxing the situation. "No one must like you, huh?"
Bryn smiles, tense shoulders slumping. "Apparently."
Javier locks gazes with Tinsley and mouths the name she knew all-too-well.
"Vena."
X
"Why are we even here?" Javier asks Vena as she pulled her lips from his. "Why can't we take this back to my place?"
Vena ran a finger on his just-kissed pink lips. Javier Dominguez was just so gorgeous. He was one of St. Jude's biggest catches and was all hers.
"Because I don't want Mrs. Dominguez thinking that I'm some sort of floozy." Vena kissed her boyfriend again, his hands rubbing across her back. "Especially not this close to Cotillion season."
Javier moved back, a confused look on his face. "I thought you didn't give a shit about that."
"I don't but my mother does." Vena kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "And while she's paying for my clothes and other things, I'll make sure to do anything to keep that bitch happy."
Javier grinned before driving his face into her neck. His kisses trailing up her neck, a barely-audible moan coming from her lips. She wanted nothing more than to get to Javier's penthouse, have sex, and drink a bunch of Mr. Dominguez's aged liquor. Now, that sounded like a good time.
"You don't know how amazing you are." Javier said as he pulled his flask from his pocket. Just like everything he owned, it had JD monogrammed on it.
"I lov—"
"Don't say it." Vena put her fingers to his lips. "Just don't. Those words mean nothing but trouble."
Javier shot back his flask, letting the burning liquid travel down his throat. Vena was right; the word love wasn't for them. Vena and he weren't one of those lovey-dovey couples. They were a melting pot of sexual energy.
"Can't you two go and fuck somewhere else?"
Vena flipped her wavy, jet black hair over her shoulders and started laughing.
"Why don't you mind your own business, bitch?"
Javier looked over his girlfriend's shoulder to see Tinsley Hastings standing in front of them. Damn, Tinsley had to be one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen.
Tinsley was wearing a baggy shirt over her short Constance skirt; her slender legs disguised in fishnets cut with holes. Her perfect golden blonde hair was flipped all to the right and she was holding a glamorous Ralph Lauren Ricky bag. She looked like a kinky Catholic schoolgirl stripper.
"You know, I love you two." Tinsley laughed as she reached into her bag for a joint. "You two want some? I have Mrs. Carpenter next period and God knows I need this."
"Let me light that for you." Javier said suavely as he turned on her joint.
"Javier Dominguez." Tinsley said, blowing smoke in his face. "Always the charmer."
"You know anything for my lady's best friend." Javier said as he took the joint from Tinsley's fingers. He sucks it in and starts kissing Vena, smoke coming from both their mouths.
"You know, I feel like throwing a party today." Vena said as she climbed off Javier's lap. "It's a Friday and we have nothing to do."
"So a party it is." Tinsley grins. "Now, I have a reason to wear those Gucci leather pants."
Vena kissed her boyfriend again, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Tinsley could just roll her eyes as she took another hit from the joint.
"I'll see you tonight, baby." Vena said as she gave him another quick kiss. "Now, let's go and announce this party, bitch!"
Tinsley passed the joint to Javier before following her best friend. "Keep it. It was nice seeing you again, Javier."
"The pleasure is always mine, Tinsley." Javier called as they walked into the pristine halls of Constance. Vena wrapped her hands in Tinsley's as they strut towards the lunchroom.
"You know that Javier and you are gorgeous together." Tinsley grinned. "If you guys have babies, they'll be, like, the cutest ones."
"Ew, Tinsley." Vena rolls her eyes. "Let's not start thinking about kids, they're disgusting."
"Ladies, where are you headed?"
"Shit!" Vena hissed under her breath as she turns. She was hoping that she didn't smell like weed, she didn't need to get in trouble today. But lucky for her, it was just Mr. Baxter. He was the new film teacher who looked like he just graduated from college. He was a serious hottie. Pretty much every girl at Constance thought so.
"Tinsley, Vena, I hope you two know lunch is over."
Vena grinned. "Oh my God, we didn't even notice. I'm sorry, Mr. Baxter."
Tinsley ran a finger through her hair. "We were just going to class, don't worry about it."
Vena turned around to look at Tinsley, her eyes serious. "Tinsley, why don't you go to class ahead of me?"
Tinsley looked at her best friend, confused. "Sure, I guess. Have a nice day, Mr. Baxter."
"You too, Tinsley."
Tinsley started walking to her locker. Mrs. Carpenter could wait, she was seriously so boring. Oh, shit! She'd forgotten to ask Vena if she should bring liquor.
Tinsley headed back towards the hallway, where she left her best friend only to see Vena pressed against a wall of lockers. Making out with Mr. Baxter.
She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Vena scoffs into her drink as she stares over the couples at the craft service table: Claire and Dean. She remembers them, she never liked them, even when they weren't together, too poor for her taste. As much as Claire showed her wealth, she'd never be as rich as Tinsley or Javier's parents.
She'd get her revenge against those losers. They were the ones to rat her out to the dean.
Sadly enough, she failed in a second attempt to injure Bryn because the vase she'd thrown missed her own personal dartboard.
Tinsley was the one to catch her affair with Mr. Baxter and that was what steamed the open flames in Vena's heart most. She isn't the goody-goody she pretends to be. Never is. Never was.
She nearly broke her glass when she saw Javier leaning to kiss Bryn, a smile spread across her face, her eyes held mysteries. Javier only used to kiss her like that and now he was all over the youngest Blackwell. His arms around her as they swerve across the floor.
Matt glances around as he sips his drink. He didn't want to stay stuck in a corner with Vena. She was boring and he would rather listen to Steven's endless monologues on pastimes and how many times he broke fingers from skateboarding wipeouts.
But he looks at Vena and saw her concentrated on Javier and Bryn. He remembers the letter Bryn wrote and he actually had it on him since he never forgot about it or showed it to Bryn mostly because he hadn't gotten hold of her since she was either at band practice or with Javier most of the time.
Why not now then? Who cares if she was dancing with him? he was Matthew Stradlin and was nearly invincible. Nearly.
He didn't look at Vena when he left her alone, straight for Bryn.
He just had to figure it out.
X
"Then I broke all my fingers once crashin' into this ten-foot street pole, man." Steven babbles and declines beer a waitress offers. "I was just so damn out of it because I hit my head on this huge thing of grass –"
Floria held her glass to a waiter for another refill. "That's a bush, Steven." she corrects and across from the two, Tinsley laughs and Harper smiles.
Steven narrows his eyes at his partner. "I don't give a crap but it was huge and stuff and didn't look green … it was, like, almost brown." He takes a cubed sandwich from a table and throws it in his mouth, continuing to talk whilst chewing. "And I forgot why it happened but then I remembered it was because I saw Pam Anderson in Playboy."
"Pamela Anderson isn't too attractive," Harper tells Steven, who gasps dramatically at him, bread and meat in his teeth. "She's just too … fake for me."
"Fake or not, she married hot-rocking Tommy Lee." Floria explains and looks over Tinsley, eyes twinkling. "Do you think it really matters if a girl's fake or not for a guy to like her?"
Tinsley's ready to add her opinion but shakes her head, the word. The one she knew so well echoes like a clash of hammers.
Fake.
"Hey, Ven," Tinsley greeted, voice uncharacteristically sullen. She still couldn't believe what she'd seen earlier and was trying her hardest to keep cool. The blonde swung a heavy bottle of vodka to Vena and the seductress caught it, manicured fingers curling around it. "We've got all the liquor for the party and a healthy supply of weed. Do you think we need anything else?"
Vena gave Tinsley a glance, eyebrows cocked and a smirk. "How 'bout a healthy supply of St. Jude's studs?" She laughed and waited for Tinsley's giggle but she only fidgeted and picked at a bead on her leather belt. "Hey, bitch, what's up? You okay?"
Tinsley bobbed her head. "I'm cool, just tired. I'm probably losing it with all the weed." She laughed this time. Vena smiled. She was glad Vena couldn't sense her anxiousness and hid her twitching fingers in her coat pockets. Even though she was afraid for what would happen, she had to admit, Vena did a fantastic job decorating the Constance room with ripped streamers and strings of sparkly beads. "I'll be back, okay? I'm gonna check how it's going outside."
"Sure, go ahead." Vena said as if she had the cleanest slate. "Just be back before the party starts. This will be epic!"
She calmed herself and nodded. Of course, it would.
Her steps echo the halls and once she's out the door. She exhaled in relief, barely halfway through the building, she crashed into someone and nearly fell back. She glared at who could've caused her fall and suddenly her glare softened when she discovers whom.
A teen with a Mohawk and bald sides stood, eyes narrow and eyebrows knitted. He was Matthew Stradlin, who always managed a tough exterior with his facial piercings and a skull-and-crossbones tattoo inked on his bicep.
He was daring and adventurous and silently many Constance girls fawned over him.
Tinsley wouldn't give him the satisfaction he wanted. He thought he was almighty now that he was in a rock band but that'd never make her swoon into his arms.
"Hey, Matt." Tinsley whispered and rose a brow, clicking a heel on the marble. "Who knew you'd be at a party like this? You don't seem the type."
"I'm not. Vena doesn't matter to me," he spat and lit an American Spirit, herbal smoke following his words. "just decided to check it out. A little entertainment would do me good."
"Do us all good, hopefully." She snagged his cigarette and stubbed it. "No smoking shit cigarettes in the building. They ain't any good." She stepped up to him. "Would you be satisfied with something … better?" She pursued her mouth and lifted her shoulders.
His brows didn't deepen and for a moment he hesitated before he went to her, throwing the cigarette from her fingers to the floor. "Most definitely."
Their lips collided.
And from afar, Vena watched, smirking deviously.
Tinsley blinks out of her daydream and meets everyone's confusion. Harper lowers his glass, he doesn't ask if she's alright, maybe he's used to it with Bryn. He learnt to not push questions and looks back at Steven, who just finished a story on frozen waffles and an article in Rolling Stone.
"Hey, Steven," Harper calls, setting aside his drink and piloting his eyes to another table. "Why don't we find some more of those little sandwiches? They're pretty good, apparently." He looks over the empty plate. Steven grins and runs for the other table. Harper follows, leaving the girls alone.
Floria didn't wait for Harper to escape her vision when she gazes at her worriedly. "You alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
She can't reply, only switches her eyes to Matt as he murmurs with Vena, exchanging secrets before he merges into the crowd, looking anxiety-struck.
"Oh." Floria breathes and took a macaron off the table. "You like him, huh?"
She whips back around to face Floria. "Of course not! Well … in the past. I'm with Harper now."
"Doesn't mean you can't like him. Matt's pretty cool when he wants to be, I guess. He's just overly-defensive and I hate to jump to conclusions but I'm sure he's being brainwashed by Vena."
Her eyelids flicker as Tinsley stares at Floria somberly. "Agreed."
It never hurt so bad to agree.
X
"Mind if we dance, Bryn?" Matt inquires, completely ignoring the look Javier gave him as he turns toward Bryn, eyes questioningly wide. "We've never really had a decent moment since before your dad's death."
Javier rolls his eyes and felt Bryn stiffen in his hands. He looks down at her and she nods, forcing a smile and unlatching Javier's grip, her hands sliding down from his shoulders to biceps. "Um, yeah, I know." she admits, trying to toughen up and even though she was better. The sudden thought of her father felt fearful. "Javier, you mind?"
He wants to say he does but doesn't necessarily want a scene so he cautiously catches Matt's eye, a glare in the guitarist's eyes. Something he just didn't trust.
"Sure, share another dance with me after." he requests and retreats his hands to his pockets, a dent ruins his forehead and he nods at Matt, just daring him to fuck up before disappearing in the crowd.
Immediately Matt strides in and takes her hands, forcing his on her waist as he yanks her in. The next song that begins is slow and comforting, a perfect waltz. He smiles at her, the stubble thick on his jaw seems to darken in the lights.
"Sorry." he apologizes. "That was pretty cruel, even for me. I was just trying to get rid of him."
"Surprising to know you don't like him," she mumbles, keeping their gazes locked. "You're usually so nice."
"I just don't trust him, his reputation isn't the best and he pretty much sleeps with every girl in Manhattan." he continues, ignoring her sarcasm. "You never know what he'd do to you."
She rolls her eyes and smirks. "David's done much worse. Trust me."
"Did you tell him?" Bryn blinks and narrows her eyes. "Oh, so you haven't?"
"He doesn't need to know, I don't know him that well," Bryn spits through her smile and widens her eyes when she sees Matt smirk. He doesn't let her go when he sifts his pockets and pulls out some folded Post-Its, holding them out. "The hell is that?"
He prods it closer and hesitatingly she accepts it. Skimming the handwriting and shoving them back at him, just managing to muffle laughter. Whoever had signed as her was good. However, she's pretty sure she never wrote Matt a love letter or called him 'a hot guitarist' to anyone. It's too girly for her. Text works better.
"Matt, I hate to shoot down your dreams –" She chokes on snickers and his smile fades. "But I didn't write that, man. I have no idea who did but it wasn't me because I most certainly do not write like that."
His arms collapse from around her waist and in seconds, he has her forearms, fingers nailing into her skin, flaming like hot knives. She could feel the iron in his grip and she attempts to shrug him but his hands only procure raw strength.
"What do you mean you didn't write it?" he hisses, digging his nails into her skin. "Then, who the hell wrote it, Bryn? God? You had to write it!"
"Lemme go first, Matt. I didn't write it. It could be Vena for all you know, she hates my guts already." He doesn't listen and her glare lightens. Why was he being so horrible? What had she done? "Matt, stop! That hurts!"
"Answer me!" he snarls. "You're always involving others who have nothing to do with it!"
People begin to stare and murmur about Matthew Stradlin turning out to be a woman-beater due to how he was yelling and demanding of Bryn.
"Matt, hey," Steven steps over and looks between them suspiciously, noticing their positions and the marks indenting on Bryn's arms. "Man, let her go. What the hell is your problem?"
"Our friend is lying to me!" he shouts, not even bothering to loosen his hold. "And she wonders why David just walked out on her!"
"Doesn't give you a reason to strangle her. David doesn't involve us anymore, Matt. We weren't there so keep out." Steven commands, approaching his friends cautiously. "Let her go now. I'm not kidding."
Bryn looks to Steven in fear and hears Matt swear, shoving Bryn and nearly knocking her down. Steven catches her, brings her upright carefully as she flinches from him, bruises already discoloring around her elbows.
"What's your problem?" Javier demands and hurries to Steven and Bryn. He barely paid any attention to Bryn and Matt's conversation but had seen Matt badmouthing him and nearly injuring Bryn. "I may have done some things in the past but I was never cruel enough to hurt a girl." He looks over Bryn, noticing the bruises and meets Steven's eyes. "Mind telling me what happened?"
Steven opens his mouth but Matt cuts him off. "I would rather tell you because I doubt you'd mind knowing more about Bryn." Bryn pales and bites her lip, collapsing into Steven. "It's something you would've never expected especially involving our great rebel."
"Matt." Steven cautions, eyes ominous.
Bryn sniffles, looking as if she just dodged lightning. "Please, Matt." she pleads. "Don't do this."
Javier raises a brow. "Do what?"
Steven stares at Javier, frustration radiating in amber eyes. "Just get out of here." he commands, not to be cruel but to rescue Bryn's relationship with another guy.
"No, stay." Matt responds, sounding chaotic. "I think you need to know."
"He doesn't. It isn't our business, Matt. Bryn could tell who she wants. We don't have the rights to that." Steven says. Bryn trembles, reaching back to clutch Steven's neck. "Now, stop."
"Please," she begs and her eyes glower, shining desperately.
Matt smirks evilly, dimples on his cheeks and turns to Javier. "What was I saying?"
More murmurs. More gossip.
Sick with malice. Shout at the Devil, almost.
She remembers leaving Italy. She felt incredibly homesick and lonely, she wanted friends but only had Floria as her temporary language teacher and her brother, who couldn't count much as a friend. Her father was never around since he traveled most of the time and she usually spent time alone, walking to the duck pond and staring into it.
Her English had improved only a slight and she had learnt basic greetings but was still tortured with a heavy accent and on one of those days she met David.
He was nice and after she had gotten to know him she decided to share her own rugged past. Biting her nails and kicking her chair as she spoke.
After the admittance, she looked to him and found him, smiling. He didn't care. He was laughing.
She laughed, too. But deep in her, she didn't want Javier's reaction. She couldn't handle another reaction, she wanted to retreat. It's no longer necessary.
Bryn stares all over and captures Javier's gaze in hers. He could practically feel how broken she was and she blinks, tears beading her lashes as she releases Steven and flees the room.
"See what you've done?" Steven sneers and looks for Bryn. He couldn't even spot her. "Damn, if she commits suicide because of you, I'm definitely taking you down." He looks around and when ready to go after her, a hand catches his shoulder and he looks to see Javier, his eyes sturdy and focused.
"Let me get her." he says and nods, not even bothering to hesitate. Javier goes after her instantly.
Now, that they were no longer the center of attention, Steven twists back toward his friend, eyes bright.
"You'll definitely pay for that." he says, eyes glinting dangerously. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but I will definitely kick your ass on Tuesday."
He walks away and for once Matt's prized smirk drops.
X
Javier descends secluded stairwells in The Empire, searching for Bryn. He was surprised at how quick she disappeared. He hoped she didn't go hurt herself because she looked miserable beyond words. Her tears shined terribly, it almost hurt to see her that way but being her, she attempted to blink them off and only made her anxiety worsen.
He heads down another flight, his fingers lingering across the banisters as he dashes to reach the foot which he was far from. A low sigh interrupts his rushing and he peers below to see the crown of someone's head, a girl leans against the banister, holding a champagne flute and a cigarette.
The crimson mouth gave it all away.
He quickens his pace. She didn't look up when he closes in on her and only took a short drag of her cigarette, eyes bloodshot. A cigarette in her fingers and a glass of champagne at her heel while she kneels for the glass, she stresses the weight of her vulnerability. She had to say something.
"Hey, Dominguez," she says, lowering her voice to hide the fact she'd been crying and just managed to stop herself by stealing the champagne from a guest. "I'm surprised you didn't stick around to listen to my life story. I thought you'd be more fascinated by that."
He takes her glass and she isn't reluctant to give it up. He sets it by the stairs and caught her gaze, her watery irises widen in suspicion, which made her look so intense and scared that her shoulders fell. "Why didn't you stay?" she asks, his silence bothering her. "It'd be much better than watching me rant about how fucked I am."
"If it'd make you this upset, I wouldn't. I'd never watch you run, knowing you were terrified." he finally speaks, taking her hand, her fingers twitch and she shuts her eyes. "Matthew didn't say anything because of the threats he received from Steven." Bryn's eyelids flutter open and she snickers, wiping her smudgy mascara. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Thought I was gonna kill myself?" she guesses and laughs at her own humorless joke. "No, I wasn't. I just felt … betrayed by a friend. I never saw him like that."
"I'm sure he'll be fine. He's just being a bit controlled by Vena." Javier smiles. "As we speak, Claire's trying to get rid of Vena somehow. It'll be better soon."
"Come on, let's get back. You're supposed to share a New Year's kiss with me." She takes his hand and he pulls her in, mouth to her ear. "I won't ask you about your past until you're ready to tell me … if you ever. I won't push, I promise." A wave of relief crashes over her life.
"Thank you, Javier." she adds. "Honestly, thank you."
And from the top of the stairs, a man in a prestige suit and lavender bowtie watches, smiling amazingly. He rotates on his heel and ascends the next staircase. "Oh, memories ..."
X
Claire suspiciously accepts a martini from a waitress. It was a peculiar pink, a peppermint floating at its rim. She was about to return the glass but the waitress had already scurried off with her tray. A few of Claire's minions glare at it.
"Are you even going to drink that?" one asks, cautiously touching the pink trim. "I bet Vena's trying to poison you."
Claire scoffs. "Tell me about it." She walks over and dumps the contents into a flower pot. "That'll show her, smelt suspicious, too. I'm glad I didn't drink that nasty stuff."
The girls laugh and Claire smirks.
From afar, Bryn receives the same drink as it's pushed into her hand. She cocks a brow and looks down. "Um, thanks?" she says to the fleeing waitress. "Damn, this looks weird." In seconds, Harper crosses her and glances between her and the drink, plucks the candy out and observes it. "Check this out, Harper."
He narrows his eyes and takes the glass from her as she flings the candy. "Don't drink this, Bryn. Who knows what's in it?" he warns. "Come on, let's go find Floria."
She smiles and nods.
And feet away, Tinsley happily accepts the drink from the waitress and holds it to Dean. "Look at this. This sure looks different," she chimes and fishes out the peppermint before draining her glass. "It tasted good, too … different."
"You sure that was safe?" She pops the candy in her mouth, crunching it in her teeth. "It didn't look too trustful."
She feels her tongue tingle and swallows hard. "Uh, yeah." Dean's face blurs and she fights to regain sight. Voices and movements around her swarm together, sounding like jumbled nonsense. She blinks again and looks towards Dean and though she couldn't really conjure his face, she could hear his worry.
"Tinsley, you sure you're okay?"
She nods and struggles for air, looking around for anyone she could see clearly or at least an exit.
"Yes." She heard herself slur. "I – I just need to get out of here, I'm sorry, I-I don't feel so good."
Five, four –
"Want me to go with you?" he questions worriedly and takes the glass. "I'll take you home if you want."
"No, no," she says again and staggers. "I'll catch a cab and go home, I have to –"
Three, two –
Not waiting for a proper response, she stumbles off, feeling like she was floating. She didn't even feel alive anymore, she felt sick and dizzy.
One –
Confetti sprays everywhere and people scream and cheer, embracing and kissing. All festivity and love. She was sure many would be making out, lips crushed, tongues in others mouths. She would've wanted to share a moment like that with Harper but all she wanted to do was leave, run home, and collapse into bed.
She slugs against the wall and looks up for someone – anyone to help her.
A hand caught her arm, a powerful hand: straightening and authoritative.
She couldn't make out the face but she knew the voice, lengthy with ice.
"Let's get you out of here."
X
Harper enters his room after a long night, loosening his tie and kicking at equipment and shirts he'd forgotten to tell the maids to clean. He and Bryn had gone home when it was cast as midnight and confetti stained the marble. The snow was already thick and some patches almost caused them to fall. Harper had a close-call with black ice, Bryn already clutching her stomach as she laughed at his clumsiness.
He threw his tie onto the computer desk and grabs his phone, checking for missed calls. Tinsley left earlier and that was what confused him. Was he that much of a bad person? Why would she just leave? She could've at least told him. Shown him respect, he at least deserved that.
Carefully, he took off his blazer, throwing it over a chair and brushing his fingertips over the dust on books his father had given him. He hated to say he had never really read any. They were as heavy as bibles and sometimes he felt too lazy to carry them in his equipment bag since he already had enough in there.
Bryn would probably put them to better use because he only used them as paperweights.
"Harper, you alive?" Bryn calls, standing in his doorjamb in her usual nightclothes: a torn concert tee and shorts, shaggy hair in a knot. "You look like death, dude. Like bad-bang-with-Nikki-Sixx."
He looks over her, rubbing tiredly at his eyes and blinking. "I'm okay, just a bit surprised." he admits and she leans in his doorframe. "I just couldn't believe Tinsley left so suddenly. I almost feel betrayed."
"Harper, you know, girls are crazy." She props her leg up against the door, leaning on her thigh. "I'm pretty sure she wouldn't do anything on purpose. Tinsley's pretty cool and you already had a dick move so you shouldn't be talking much." He cocks a brow and nods. "Fall asleep and I bet she'll call in the morning." She slides her foot off the frame and waves before heading for her room, her voice ringing down the hall. "Good niiiiight!"
"Night," he murmurs and sits on the edge of his bed, racing thoughts overwhelming him as he sinks into the pillows, thinking about friends and family. Did he have anything to worry about? Or was he finished after all that happened? He sure hoped he was complete because he most certainly didn't want to lose any more friends.
His phone vibrates on his bedside table and he jumps for it, not bothering to check the caller ID before he answers. "Hello?" he answers and nearly kicks himself for the nervous tic.
Heavy breathing and the squelch of nasty breathing. He arches a brow and gets up from bed. "Um, is anyone there?"
"Harper … Harper, help." the distress of Tinsley begs. "Vena has me in … dah Empire. You have to help, I'm … scared –"
He doesn't wait for more, nor does he reply as he is already running toward Bryn's room, nearly breaking the door as he clicks on a light switch. She moans, rubbing her eyes and squinting from underneath the sheets.
"The hell, Harper? I was sleeping. This better be good." she groans, flipping the covers off her.
"Get up." he demands and she straightens in fear of his tone. "Vena has Tinsley and I don't know what else but she sounds drugged." Her eyes widen and she slides off her bed, looking around for shoes. "Hurry, Bryn!"
She sighs and grabs a pack of cigarettes and her Blackberry. "I know that much but putting on your pants would help us both. Neither of us wants to see your striped boxers."
X
That finishes off a chapter and I really hoped this turned out better than my others because this took a while to write and I wanted to make enough drama for it. I just finished watching the Golden Globes Red Carpet and I owe my thanks to GossipQueen101 for writing the first flashback.
Most of these outfits were inspired off real celebrities' like Kristen Stewart's white, one-sleeved dress at a movie premiere and Chace Crawford's slicked back hair in GG. He's so handsome with his hair like that and BANG go my eyes when he's wearing one of his perfect suits too.
And I'm currently watching the Golden Globes now and I'm definitely rooting for Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams to win awards for their movie, Blue Valentine, and though I haven't seen it yet, I hear it's supposed to be great.