The Downside of Popularity

22|Slumber party?

Alina
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The last time I attended a slumber party, I was twelve.

So I’m guessing I’ve either forgotten how a slumber party is thrown, or Kaylee has forgotten what a slumber party should be.

The earth trembled under my feet strolled toward a swanky-looking two-storey mansion with lush rose gardens in front and a wraparound porch.

The front door was thrown wide open so the bass of the electronic pop music could spill out. Next to the open door were two muscly men dressed in matching black tee and blue jeans. A few students were milling around outside, snapping at each other, or typing feverishly on their cells.

“Just ask your elder brother what the password is, he’s friends with a Royal isn’t he?” a dark-haired boy said to a petite blonde talking on the phone.

I faltered in my step. How was I planning on making it inside the house when I didn’t know the password? My only hope was that Kaylee would’ve added my name to the invite list the men were holding.

When I got to the front door, I sucked in a breath and cleared my throat, smiling sweetly like that would make the bouncers change their minds and let me come in without a password.

You’ve got this Alina, I chanted like a mantra in my head when they took one sweeping look at me and tossed their heads into the list. They stayed quiet for a beat too long, and I was beginning to regret coming here at all when one of them said “Enjoy the party Miss.” in a deep, gruff voice.

A bit off-balance in my heels, I leapt inside the house before they could take another look at the list and see that they’d mistaken me for someone else.

With luck like mine, that was totally possible.

Once I got allowed into a private party thrown at Spicy Wingz only for the bouncers to return right when I was about to devour the bowl of wings they’d served me saying I had to leave because they’d mistaken me for someone else. How I managed to look like that raven-haired Korean dude to them was a mystery to me. Even until today.

The inside of Kaylee’s house looked like something out of an interiors magazine. But what else could I expect? Her parents owned a multinational construction company after all. There was something chic about the bold coloured wallpapers on exposed brick walls, metallic sculptures on glass tables, plush-looking armchairs, and enormous chandelier hanging down the high ceiling.

A clumsy blond dude carrying a cup overflowing with beer nudged me in the arm as he walked past. He didn’t bother to apologise for almost spilling his beer over one of the most expensive dresses I owned. He simply kept moving until he got to where a bunch of other dudes gathered around a pool table.

I rolled my eyes at the back of his head. Saving my breath because dudes will always be dudes, and never gentlemen.

The few girls around me were scantily clad, wearing designer heels and too much makeup. A curvy girl with short platinum hair cocked a brow at me, eyes glazing over the coral-coloured halter neck dress I was wearing as she held in a laugh.

I cleared my throat to grab her attention, glaring at her until she squirmed and looked away before breezing out of the living room in search of a less crowded place. I didn’t need anyone else to notice how much I didn’t fit here.

After about three minutes, I find myself in a kitchen styled like it belonged to Beyoncé. The entire place was neat and spotless, like no one from the living room ever walked in here. There was not a single stain on the white worktop, the tap in the sink wasn’t dripping water like someone had forgotten to turn it off completely, and there was no towel spread over the microwave like it was always back home.