𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗔𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥 ⚔︎

5

in the master bathroom, jesse and his best friend tracy were getting ready for a night on the town. both of them stood grooming themselves at a long, jutting marble sink in front of a large mirror.

with a tiny little brush, tracy leaned forward and stealthily applied gold-tinted bronze eyeshadow before puckering her lips, smothering them in a shiny gloss. right beside her, jesse styled his hair with a tub of wax, his fingers running frivolously through the auburn strands. he wore a dark purple blazer with emerald green pinstripes over a white t-shirt, black trousers, leather biker boots, and a small diamond and gold crucifix necklace. tracy wore a tight black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, slim denim jeans, and flashy high tops sneakers. she had a gold circle necklace resting on her chest with the hooped earrings to match. her tightly permed hair was loose and had been puffed up, a few curly strands hanging by her heart-shaped face.

"do you think it'll be busy tonight?" tracy said, popping the lipgloss back into its shiny metallic tube.

"it's friday," jesse replied, shaking a bottle of hairspray. "of course it will."

"let's hope i'm not spending the night looking for you— or better yet, holding you up so you don't fall face-flat on the floor, like last weekend," she hummed.

jesse shook his head with a cheeky smile. "well, let's hope i don't have to drag you off some thug in the VIP section."

tracy tutted. "oh, please! just because you go for any motherfucker that buys you a drink!"

he pushed her and she chuckled, shoving him back. jesse got her in a headlock and she screamed playfully, trying to wriggle out as an escape.

"okay, enough! enough!" tracy hollered. "my hair, jesse, my hair!"

tracy davis had been jesse's best friend since they were both just 7 years old. she had known the lavigne family for thirteen years — since the early spring of 1975, when her father, michael davis, had started working for edward. born may 15th, 1967, she grew up in a retro-esque luxury apartment in elmhurst, queens: with an older brother, cameron, and two young twin brothers, louis and lloyd. her mother angela owned a hair salon, and her father was a former drug kingpin who had once 'ruled' over every block in north brooklyn, from rikers island to bushwick. she was currently attending fashion school in manhattan, where she took pride in designing and creating all kinds of trendy and chic garments — some of which found their way onto jesse's back and in his drawers (for a small fee, of course). 

everybody, even their parents, thought that tracy and jesse were dating. even at a young age, so young that they had taken baths together, everybody was anticipating the day that they'd break the news — but they never did. suspicions died down once jesse got girlfriends and tracy got boyfriends. it was clear that they were just friends — they were like brother and sister.

being an only daughter, tracy was often given special treatment. she was her parents' prized possession: a confident young woman, who found unique and often aggressive ways of expressing herself. she had just the right personality for absolutely anything, which is how she fit in so well with the lavigne duo. with chantelle, she'd go shopping all day, visit the beach, talk about boys, swim in the mansion's pool with glasses of iced tea waiting for them on the patio — she was elegant, calm, talkative. with jesse, she'd go to parties and dance, get blackout drunk, and stay up all night, finding herself in all kinds of trouble. she was wild, energetic, and messy. she was truly versatile, managing to hide or show certain parts of herself when needs be. she had always been good at that.

the time struck 8pm. like clockwork, they left the master bathroom and walked down the hallway, a spring in their step as they went. they giggled quietly, tracy bursting out laughing at something stupid jesse whispered in her ear. this caught the attention of chantelle, who was on the other end of the hall, studying in her room for her final college exam, which she would be taking the following monday. textbooks were laid out on her bed and there was a notepad and a pen in her lap. gigi lay beside her, licking her white fur and purring. she looked up at her bedroom door, half ajar, watching as the two pranced down the dark red runner on the grand staircase. she didn't say anything as they passed. she was far too used to this weekend routine.