Honestly? It's a story in which every possible trope/cliché imaginable is thrown into ONE big book.
Come join this group of friends on their coming-of-age journey 🎒📓
⚠️Includes: graphic sex, violence, drugs, profanity, and some Spanish dialogue
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"You're not like the others. They don't understand you. You're from a whole 'nother world. Kiss me. Infect me with your love & fill me with your poison. Take me. Wanna be a victim, ready for abduction."
-Katy Perry, ET
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The fast, upbeat music with the exaggerated bass that was meant to penetrate everyone's intoxicated bodies was nothing short of what Inez expected a rave to be like. The amount of energy in that small abandoned warehouse was impressive. But more so, was the neon colors and ridiculously skimpy outfits the majority of people were wearing. Fishnets, booty shorts, body rhinestones, colorful wigs, and Kandi bracelets everywhere.
And then, she spotted a girl practically floating above the crowd, waving to everyone around her with a wide grin, and most people actually waved back as if she was a princess passing through on her carriage. She met Inez's eyes and smiled wider, pointing in her direction, but it wasn't until she came closer that she and Eva recognized it was just Andrea sitting over Enrique's shoulders.
Inez arched a brow, her insides twirling as she watched Enrique help her climb off so she could run and greet them with a hug and express how glad she was that they could make it. She recalled Enrique telling her that he and Andrea were just close friends but, in her opinion, this was too close.
To top it off and irritate Inez even further, it didn't help that Andrea was standing there looking like the phenomenal goddess of all raves. Small rhinestones adorned the shape of her eyes, her curly hair was picked up into pigtails with sheer white iridescent scrunchies that seemed to glow in the dark the way the lighting was set up, and her wrists were full of Kandi bracelets. She was wearing a white crop top with thick spaghetti straps and the words Rave Babe spelled across in bold pink. It had a straight neckline, though a small V seemed to have been manually cut out in the middle to give it some character and show minor cleavage. Over her high-waisted, metallic pink booty shorts, she had strapped on a white holographic fanny pack that never looked more fashionable. Her outfit was simple compared to those around her, yet loud enough to make a statement.
