Complicated

1: Partying

Underage drinking, fake I.D's, sweaty dry humping, and roufies. All made up every single club, that I had ever went to. See most stories begin with the story line, "He see's her, they dance. One night stand, head over heels etc." Nope, not here. 

    When Violet Monroe was born, nobody thought that at the age of 19 she would be binge drinking and getting sh!t faced at the city club. Wearing that skimpy outfit her best friend bought her for her 16th birthday. Being raised in a high class society where Violet could barely show any skin, she was swore to the oath of turtle necks, and loose fitting slacks that showed off NOTHING. 

Violet met her best friend Alex when they entered High School both as freshman. Alex was like any other best friend; nuts, insanely sexual at any given moment, wild, and clearly a good a$$ drinker. Considering that on Violets 17th birthday Alex took her to a local bar. And introduced Violet to her  now best friend's whiskey, vodka, Bacardi 151, and tequila. 

~flashback~

"Common V! You can't be a light weight your entire life!" Alex shouted as she dragged me to the bar, at the front of the club. 

I couldn't believe that I had let her put me into a tight black fitting dress that she gave me last year as a present, only to prove that it was more revealing then what strippers wore. The neckline was outrageous and stopped just before it reached my bra. The fit was tight, and hugged my a$$ and hips snug. My feet were in absolute hell, as they were going to have blisters on them from the 6'' stilettos she handed me before stepping out of the house. 

The club was very much so crowded as she slipped multiple shot glasses in front of me, all filled with different colored liquids. 

And all I can remember is the burning sensation as each shot went down my throat, and warmed my insides to the point of pure bliss.

~end of flashback~ 

So, now at the age of 19. I was blinded by the liquor burning my throat as it slid into my stomach. Since I moved out I've had the problem of drinking to much, and I had my reasons. Because a person can only be broken so many times before she breaks within herself. My parents taught me always to behave, to grow up, act mature and I couldn't do the things that my best friend did growing up. 

Meeting Alex in ninth grade, she compared our lifestyles the first week we began talking. She grew up in a regular house, 2 bedroom, 2 bath and normal appliances. But me, I grew up with 6 bedroom, 5 bath, pool, tennis court. It was over neccasssary. 

My dad was the owner of a major cooperation, and my  mom owned her own personal dog grooming company. Nobody would've thought that their only child would grow up to be a binge drinking, drug using daughter. Their own precious daughter, that grew up in signature clothing, and shoes. Anything she wanted they would give it to her. 

Why I moved out of the luxurious lifestyle? 

Who wouldn't.

It was terrible, I had to act like a completely different person. I had to obey the rules, I couldn't go to parties, but instead I had to go to classy parties. I had to dress in clothing, that was to loose, and uncomfortable. Had to act like a different person, mind my manners, keep my mouth shut, yes sir no sir. It was terrible. 

Alex changed my life so much, she helped find out who I really was. She helped bring out my true personality, my crazy, amazing self. 

When I was with Alex she clearly proved to anybody around me, that I was the stuck up classy rich girl that everyone thought I was. I was different, I would rather wear skinny jeans and a tee than heels and a loose fitting gown than to impress anybody. 

See, I always woke up every morning with my blonde hair and naturally naked face. 

Now, I wear my makeup, my light eyeliner and mascara. My hair was dyed around the end of my senior year in high school, when Alex wanted to prove to my parents that I can be my own person. 

Sitting in the club, waiting for Alex to get back from the bathroom. My glass of whiskey made my hand cold. The liquor just sat there still filling the glass, that made me want to drown myself in it.

Hearing the chair beside me shift, I glanced over. Sitting in Alex's old seat, was a tall, lanky man. His hair was down to his shoulders, and was brown like my hair. His face was covered by his long hair, making me unable to see what he was thinking. So I downed my glass. I couldn't handle being next to a man, let alone one who looked just like the guy who had ruined me in less than a couple months.

My phone was in my bag, as it went off. It was Alex.

Alex: 'Bathroooom beeb."

Setting my glass down, I turned to get out of my chair. Only for the side of my chair to hit the neighboring long haired man. He turned, and my world stopped.