Jasmin has moved from Miami to Chicago, which is an amazing, but dangerous place.
She's innocent, but definitely knows her worth.
Jasmin has been through many ups and downs when she moved. She learned the difference between real friends and fake fri...
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Antonio
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The stupid black wings Nico forced me to wear sit uncomfortably on my back as I lean back on the chair. The music blasting from the speakers makes my ears throb uncomfortably, and I wish to be anywhere but here.
I sigh, running my hands through my hair and spreading my legs further, being stopped by the people squishing me in between them on this crowded ass couch. This party is weak as fuck.
I huff out a breath, needing a hit if I'm going to sit through this thing. My eyes connect with Lucas, and he seems to get what I'm trying to do when he stands up, making his way out the front door.
I follow shortly after him, pushing my way through the people drunkenly making their way to the kitchen to get more alcohol. Probably even get them a lil' double cup. The sweat, alcohol, and weed leaves a disgusting stench in the big, but small space.
Fake cobwebs, different statues of different halloween characters, and decorations are littered everywhere. I can't lie, the decorations are good, but there's hardly anything to do. Fresh Prince of Utah by YoungBoy plays through the speakers as I walk out, the cool night air cooling my overheated body because of that crowded space.
Lucas passes me the lighter, and I take it. I untuck the blunt from behind my ear, plucking it in between my lips. The lighter lights the end of the blunt, and I rotate it slowly, lighting it evenly. I move forward, leaning my elbows onto the railing, inhaling the smoke into my mouth.
People think I enjoy going out to parties, but I don't. Too much fucking drama happens, even though I enjoy it, I would rather spent my night, especially a Friday night, alone in my bed, sleeping. People say I'm lazy as fuck and I can't even deny it.
Footsteps and familiar voices moving closer to the porch catch my attention, and I look up, pulling the blunt away from my lips. Emily, Amelia, and Kaliyah make their way up the driveway, recording a video or something.
It's not until they turn, that I see Jasmin trailing behind them, her head pointed down towards her phone, typing hastily with her eyebrows furrowed. Amelia calls her name, snapping her attention to her, before smiling at the camera then looking back down.
I pull the stick back to my lips, taking another hit, while my eyes scan her appearance. Her hair, still straight, is pulled into a slick half-up half- down do, and the dark make-up around her face makes her cheeks look sunken, and her eyes tired. Like a zombie.
The short bodysuit clinging to her body hug every curve, the deep v-neckline cutting into the valley of her breasts. It stops a little above mid-thigh, the knee-high boots clinging to the bottom half of her legs.
