Bad Friend

26. Plain Sight

Los Angeles.

I didn't make the drive up very often, mostly because I stayed within a two mile radius of my apartment, but also because it wasn't my most favorite place in the world. It was loud, busy, and was filled with too many people pretending to be something they weren't. But I supposed there were a couple of good pockets. The city was large, after all, and I knew of some pretty interesting places.

Tonight I was not at any of them.

I was at some fancy restaurant off of Sunset Boulevard that had been rented out for the night. The entire restaurant. Rented out so that Harry could have a kind of going away party before he left for filming in London. I thought that celebrating usually happened after filming was finished, but it appeared that the people who were a part of Harry's life liked to have any reason to celebrate.

Glancing down, I wondered if I was underdressed. I didn't have a lot of fancy clothes, but when I showed Lena Harry's invitation text to this thing last week, she took me shopping. We walked around for a while, but nothing really stood out to me. Part of the problem was that I didn't know how to dress for a party at a trendy restaurant with people who made a lot more money than I did, but I think my nerves had me turning down everything Lena showed to me. Eventually Lena took me to her place so I could rifle through her closet.

In all the time I'd known her, I'd never been to Lena's apartment. It was considerably bigger than mine, but quaint at the same time. Like her wardrobe, her place had a kind of pink theme to it. The walls were a very soft, subtle pink with fairy lights and gauzy curtains adorning the windows; there were potted plants hung around the room and seated on surfaces throughout the apartment. Aside from that, everything was pretty minimal, the majority of her decorations saved for her bedroom. Her room was covered in a collage of pink–themed prints—flowers, quotes, sunsets, silhouettes, neon signs, and a number of other images. It was a wide variety of things, but it all came together nicely. The lamps were puffy clouds that emanated a soft glow, her comforter was puffy and white to look like one big cloud, too. It definitely had more personality than mine. My room had more art hung up than hers did, but Lena's were more artfully placed, and hers were considerably more cheerful.

For an hour, Lena and I ransacked her wardrobe to try to find the right thing to wear. I tried on dresses, mini skirts, lace bodysuits tucked into jeans, anything that Lena deemed appropriate for the party. By the time we'd put something together, it looked like a tornado had blown through Lena's bedroom.

Now here I was, standing at the entrance of this beautifully decorated, probably overpriced restaurant, feeling inadequate in a sequin top shaped like a butterfly, a black skirt, and my hair tied up with a matching butterfly clip. It felt very 90s, and when I looked in the mirror in Lena's room, I thought I looked cute, a nice mix of edgy and chic. Everything I liked about myself was accentuated, from my collarbones to the tattoos on my arms, to the way the butterfly top and skirt showed off the curve of my waist. And I still thought I looked good, just perhaps not in the right setting.

At least I had the sense to wear heels, I thought, looking down at my feet as they peeked out beneath my skirt. I'd worn the only pair of black heels that I had, some simple ones that had thin black straps that criss–crossed around my feet and ankles, but glancing around the room, I saw a lot of red bottoms and outfits that looked like they'd just come off a runway.

I felt out of my element, and I hadn't even been here for five minutes yet. Pulling my phone out of my purse, I checked the time. It was 8:34, four minutes past when Harry promised he'd come meet me. He must've been busy with something else, which was fine because this was his party, but now I was just standing here by myself. And people were starting to take note of me too, glancing at me curiously as they walked by.