Genevieve Carter has got it all. The house, the friends, the looks, the family, even the perfectly planned future. Vieve has always felt lucky. She knows what it means to be Genevieve Carter, and she's never know anything else.
And then came Alex.
❣...
"High stakes. Huge. Massive! Ells I need to look insane." I say, lying on my bed with my feet propped up on the bed frame. Elodie laughs as if I'm whatsoever kidding. "Genevieve Verity Carter. Emphasis on the Carter part. I am saying this one because I'm your best friend but two because it's fucking true: you look amazing hungover in the morning with your perfect hair all tangled, in your Garfield PJ's. And I know. Cause I've seen it" She laughs. "Hey you are sworn to secrecy about those PJs Ellie and I know that because one i'm your best friend and two I made you take a fucking oath!" I shout, throwing a pillow at her in laughter.
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Eventually, I chose a black dress, sheer tights and heeled boots, and pouf my hair up into an updo. "How do I look?" I say, runway walking into the room. "VIEVE. New look for you yes! IN.SANE." Screams Ellie, clapping her hands together. "Thank you, thank you" I say, taking a bow. I swap my studs out for gold Tiffany link earrings, and slick on some lipstick and lipliner. I look good and I damn know it. "Your parents would have a fit" she laughs and I go red. "Hey, I'm joking, you look classy! Don't worry about it." She pulls me in with one arm and pulls out two pieces from my hair. "Perfect. As always" she says, eyes rolling but with a warm smile on her face.
Elodie wears a Black mini skirt and a navy corset top, with her curly hair in a Long ponytail and my dark blue Isabel Marant boots, and my YSL hoops. She looks drop-dead beautiful, as per usual, and yet so freaking cool and laidback, as per usual. "Help, I- I think I might faint!" I shriek, before falling on to my bed.
At the party, I've had a couple too many drinks and our friend Scarlett's on duty to swat away anyone who doesn't look like a "tall, brunette, blue-eyed guy who looks half-dead but in a hot way" (my own lovely drunken words.) Target spotted. And he's probably downed more tequila than me by the looks of it. Winking at Scar, I make my way over and sit myself next to him, my legs on top of his. "Well hi again." I say flirtily. He smirks up at me playfully. "You're drunk." "You're drunker" He considers this, well, as much as someone with alcohol in their system can consider anything. Then, he slowly leans over to me, stopping short centimetres away from his face. Suddenly, I feel as if I've completely sobered, but fight to keep my gaze unmoved by his sudden proximity.
"You don't want to do this" he whispers. "Oh, yes, I, do." I laugh into the air.
In a quick movement, he picks me up, and we move through the crowds, absolutely everyone's eyes on us. I notice Brock in the crowds, his face like stone. We're in a room. Unknowingly, I've wrapped my legs around his torso and his head is pressed against mine, looking down at my breasts, biting his lip. Holding me with one arm, suddenly he lifts me head. "You're sure, Vieve?" "Positive." And with that, his lips crash on to mine, and he kisses me.
