The President's Son

17|| Reunions

I'd been starting at my phone just looking over those digits over and over again. It was like that moment when you're reading something but don't really get it or your mind is wondering so you need to read it again.

For goodness sake what was I doing?

I could swear it had been over fifteen minutes that I sat on my ridiculously expensive sheets on the comfortable bed of mind just staring at Malachi's contact.

I remembered his words... "I really like you Lilac."

Gosh, I'm becoming a simp.

But I made my decision. Well, I made our decision which now I think was very selfish of me; but it was for a good reason. Wasn't it?

Screw this. I need to talk to someone.

I quickly Liam's number but unfortunately it went to his voice mail. That doesn't usually happen so I'm assuming he's in a meeting or doing something "productive."

On the other hand, there was no way I was going to call Mathew. That would just be weird. Even tough we're trying to build our filial relationship, I really cant imagine myself bawling my problems out to him like that.

So I called one person I know would listen. She had to, infact, she had no choice.

Paloma Kervensky

Paloma and I had been friends every since my tenth birthday. I wouldn't describe us as bestfriends, but I would say we're pretty close.

Thinking of her took me back to the numerous times where we forged our parents signature to get matching tattoos which to this day we regret; definitely not one of our finest moments.

But in this day and age, with a little bit of money attached to your bad deeds, you're set free. At this point anything is possible.

Anytime I thought back to that $500 we used on food at restaurants made my head ache. We were only fifteen then and being the silly teenagers that we were, we brought other friends along.

Enough of the past, back to the present...

As of today, Paloma is classified as one of the youngest millionaires in New York owning a very success fashion line. I should probably collab with her sometime but for now, I was going through shit and I suppose a nice pile of junk food in a New York dinner with an old friend wouldn't hurt right?

So I dialled her number and luckily...it went through.

𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎𓆉︎

As you may have guessed, yes. I travelled my disgraceful ass to New York within the day and thankfully it didn't take that long.

Currently, I was swirling my straw in a tall smoothie cup with my usual shades on trying my best not to catch the attention of paparazzi and fans at the booth facing the wall.

I know this isn't really the ideal position for celebs to sit in a diner but trust me, I wouldn't want anything else.

"Pssssst"

I snapped my head in the direction the sound came from only to notice the angelic feature sitting right in front of me. Paloma

She was just as I remembered her; dark brown hair, cute freckles and that tattoo highlighting her right arm which she could have covered it up.

"What's with the shades?" Was the first thing I asked. Who ask's that anyway? I'm too weird for my own liking.

"What's with yours?" She answered and it was just like old times when we laughed our lungs out until we stared to cry.