Meet (Y/n) Price, the rebellious little sister of Stuart Price who is the exact opposite of himself, yet is very overprotective over her, since he raised her himself as a baby and acts as a father figure instead of an older brother.
Years later she...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Prologue
A young woman with dark chocolate hair was sat patiently by a white cosmetic table, grasping her mobile tightly in her palm getting frustrated, as none of her soon-to-be-husband and his friends including her best friend hadn't answered back to any of her calls.
"Hey it's (Y/n), if I'm not taking your calls it's cause, I'm just avoiding someone I don't like. Please leave a message, and if I don't call back it's you."
She felt her heart clench in fear, as her best friend wasn't picking up her phone, and went straight to voicemail.
"Hey, it's Phil. Leave me a message or don't? But do me a favor and don't text me, it's gay."
"Anything?"
She turned to face a woman in her early 50s, with tangerine hair, dressed in a crimson dress, sporting a white bandana around her neck, walk over who she recognising the familiar person of her mother.
She glanced down at her phone. "I've tried them all, it keeps going straight to voicemail."
"Well, there has to be an explanation." Her mother reasoned placing her hands on her hips.
"Sweetie it's Vegas," an older man in his 60s sat on the couch reading a magazine explained
"You lose track of time in those casino's, there's no windows, there's no clocks. He's probably on the heater. And you never walk away from the table, when you're on the heater," he finished wagging his finger around in the air.
"You do if you're getting married," his wife gave him a stern look.
Suddenly the woman's phone rang, causing her face to lit up slightly, as she answered with no hesitation. "Hello?"
"Tracy... it's Phil."
She stood up from her chair quickly, feeling anger build up. "Phil, where the hell are you guys? I'm freaking out."
"Yeah, listen, uh... we fucked up."
She rushed out of her seat, eyes scrunched up in confusion hissing slightly. "What are you talking about."
"The bachelor party, the whole night it ju-... things got out of control," he explained nervously. "And, uh... we lost Doug."
"What?" She said in a hushed whisper.
"We can't find Doug." He repeated.
"What are you saying Phil?" Tracy asked in frustration, "Were getting married in five hours."
"Yeah..." Phil said slowly, "That's not gonna happen."
