Top Priority

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Taylor's pov

"Come onnnnnn," My best friend, Alex, tugged on my hand from where I sat on our couch, "We'll have fun, and I need a buddy to come with me!" She gave me her signature smile.

"You know I don't like to go to parties," I argued back, not truly serious.  But I was serious about my lack of partying.  I fell out of that kind of lifestyle over a year ago.

"Tay, you rock parties.  You're like the life of the party, and there is no party without life," Alex plopped down next to me, folding her hands and bringing them to her chin and giving me puppy eyes.

"That doesn't even make sense.  And what am I going to where?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I know you have clothes from your wild days.  I will help you, I promise." She insisted, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Fine," I said, and smiled to show I didn't mind her persuading me into going to a random person's party.

Alex squealed, wrapping her arms around me and tightening her grip, "Alright," I joked, huffing out a breath, "I'm going to die from asphyxiation before we even pick out an outfit,"  I wiggled from her grip, standing up and heading to my bedroom.

She happily followed me, though her eyebrows were furrowed, "What's asphyxiation?" 

"It's when you die because you can't breathe," I glanced over at her before opening my tiny walk-in closet, "Okay, what are you wearing? I don't want to look like a slut but I don't want to look like a teenager either," I looked through all the different clothes I had hanging up in the closet, sliding them along the valet rods, "And you know I'm not a fan of dresses."

"Yeah.  How about these jeans, and this lace thing?" She held up a shirt that buttoned together at the crotch, it was a lace top with a sheer black cover from the waistline down, finished with a plummeting V-neck.  "And you can borrow my Gucci belt.  Boom, perfect," 

"I love you," I laughed, and grabbed the outfit from her.  The black jeans were baggy with holes and would fit perfectly with the top.  "Should I start getting ready now, or?" I asked slowly, raising my eyebrows at her.

"Yeah the party is in about an hour and it takes twenty minutes to get to the place the guy rented out," Alex began walking out of my closet to give me time to get ready.

"Only an hour? What the hell Alex!" I cried playfully. "Go get me that Gucci belt!"

"You realize it's already six o clock?" She left my room with that, and I immediately stripped out of my oversized Green Day shirt and black shorts, slipped on the top before the pants.

Alex returned as I was putting on heels that I knew would be killing me by the end of the night, but I would worry about that then.  She handed me the belt, and I slipped it through the belt loops, noticing that she was watching me with an admired look in her eye.

"What?" I questioned with a smile, and my bald beauty shook her head slowly.

"Nothing. I'm just happy you're happy," She walked up to me, hugging me.

"Me too," I said, and she kissed my cheek playfully.  

"Alright, well I'm going to get ready.  Love you bitch," Alex winked at me before heading out of my room, and I finished getting dressed.

Nostalgia hit me as I walked into the bathroom to put on a light layer of makeup.  I remember how I used to party almost every night, dancing with random people and sleeping with whoever.

But my best friend died because I couldn't be there, because I was black out drunk on the couch while he was suffering.  And still to this day, nearly one year later, sometimes the thought of drinking alcohol makes me sick, even something boring like a beerbox or a White Claw.