A Week of Fame

You Again

               She was giddy that you finally agreed to let her have her party. Once back in the car, she started sending out her text messages. It made you uneasy thinking there were going to be so many strangers invading your space. However, Adrian was always great at shoving you out of your comfort zone.

"You know we don't have supplies to host high class people, right?" You think suddenly.

She waves you off, "I've already called a caterer, and I found party supplies in that last store, which is what gave me the idea. Girl, I got this, trust me."

You left it at that. Why wouldn't she already be prepared? Adrian never skimped when it came to a good party. At least there would be booze. If anything were going to get you loosened up for the night, it would be alcohol. While she worked to prepare for the party starting in an hour, you opted for a shower. You had absolutely no decoration skills, so she kicked you out easily enough. You had always been the less is more type. So, makeup and hair was easy. You let your hair dry in your natural curls, and your make up consisted of minimal shadow and eyeliner, and some mascara.

You hadn't exactly packed for the party life, rookie move. Thanks to your quick thinking you found a sundress that hung down at your knees. The maroon material flattered your complexion. It was good enough. You donned some sandals, and called it quits. You found yourself back on the first floor, and Adrian had somehow managed to get herself ready for the party on top of styling the house.

Lining the openings of the archways were shining white lights. There was a lady working at the stove in the kitchen. The bar had become fully stocked. And what kind of party would it be without a DJ, and a beer pong table. She had really out done herself. It looked classy, yet entertaining. Adrian herself had become the model of perfection. Her long slim build filled out the tight black skirt and sparkly purple blouse. The black stilettos she had on really made the slender muscles of her calves pop. Those couldn't have possibly been comfortable.

She turned to you, "It took you an hour to change your clothes?"

You were insulted, "Listen, I took a shower, did my makeup, and had to search high and low for something to wear. I worked hard on this, you're lucky it only took me an hour," you emphasized.

She gave you a sneer, "Well at least you're here. People should be showing up any time now."

"How many people exactly?"

She shrugged, "50 or so."

50 was not even a close estimate, there had to of been at least 200 people stuffed into what had become the very tiny villa. It was difficult to move around, let alone actually hear yourself think. Between the thumping of the music, and the shouting over it, you make your way out to the front porch. Drink in hand, at least it was a little calmer. Adrian was right, her parents certainly gave her some connections, you knew that there were some celebrities there. You never paid attention to movies enough to actually learn what their names were, but you still knew.

Adrian was having the time of her life. Even though she was happily engaged, her boyfriend understood her need for attention. And so did you. She had grown up with money. Her dad owned some well-known publishing companies, plural, back home. Hence, the celebrity connections. This was her life on a constant replay. She pretty much had free rein to do whatever she wanted, and you were just along for the ride.

You made the decision not to drink a ton, as you were pretty much the stand in babysitter. Hey, somebody had to be the responsible one, right? All night long you did your best to keep an eye on Adrian. But you turned your back for one second and she was gone. She was beyond tipsy at this point, so you were frantic to find her. You went up to the bedrooms and heard her voice through one of the doors.