Dreams Apart

The welcome party

Third person

Summer and Jane walk in on Angela, reading newspaper articles about the "Miller family." She doesn't flinch nor keep her eyes off the paper when the girls shuffle in.

"Angela?" Jane and Summer share looks of worry as they approach her.

"Are you okay?" Summer asks. Angela chuckles dryly with weary eyes. She looks away from the article to give her friends a brief stare.

"I'm so sick of that question." She sighs, sinking into her seat while pinning her hands on her forehead roughly with irritation.

"Look here, it says..." She started off, getting up from her seat and walking towards them.

"Is Maria's delirious kid okay?" Her chuckle grows louder and turns into laughter. Jane and Summer slowly turn to face each other in devastation and sympathy for their friend.

"No, no, no, but look at the latest one." Jane puts her hand on my shoulder, trying to stop me from reading what was intended to cut my wounds deep.

"No, but it's kind of funny because they're right." I feel so empty, with nothing at all. "Will she even make it to the all-arranged welcome party tonight?" I read the next headline, pushing my tears away and hoping to not blink.

Their headlines and theories didn't hurt me, but what did was that they were actually right. I was crazy, and that was it.

"We're going to the party." I decided. I needed a distraction, and I needed to prove myself wrong, or maybe just act as if nothing had happened.

Summer and Jane were bewildered to hear my suggestion. "I'm not going there sober." Jane looked to Summer, who giggled in agreement.

Just one night where I can prove them all wrong. One night, I ignored my reality and the nightmares that followed my bed in the form of coats and necklaces.

Pants and bras on floors. Music blasting, outfits tried on and thrown out. Lip gloss and makeup are on shelves, and alcohol is in our systems.

For the first time in a while, my thoughts were gone. Nothing at all. The world just went quiet; the voices, the shattered memories, and everything else were gone.

Just for now.

"IT'S GONNA GET LIT TONIGHT!!" We screamed out loud to the song that blasted loudly in my penthouse. We wore peach slik gowns with our hair curled thickly and straightened to our shoulders.

We popped bottles and put on diamonds.

Andres and Hardin would fetch us. They were all invited by Austin through a lousy phone call instead of a well-written invitation that Diana was giving out to everyone else.

Diana didn't like them; she believed they weren't rich enough, and if they were, then their headlines weren't clean.

We were met outside with the sight of Andres and Hardin, who were dressed for the occasion. I mean Andres.

Andres's arm awaited mine. He dressed in a plain white casual suit with a vest to show off his abs and forearms, which curled perfectly into the fabric of the outfit he had picked out.