Party Girl

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song, 'never be the same' - Camila Cabello

Vinn's Pov 

I finished it, unlike my pussy of a friends, the deadbeat rapist is dead, and gone. I walk into the club to meet with Elijah and James, when i enter the club i am instantly, taken back from the strong smell of alcohol, and loud music, i head to the bathroom when i see a man hovering over a girl, i look closer, i notice brunette hair, short slim body, Melody. I raise my hand and punch the guy right in the nose then again, and again, i then stop and look at Melody her face filled with horror, i look her up and down, her white dress hugging her body, she looks so good.

We talk for a bit, she then drags me to the dance floor, and fuck she looked good, she looks like and inoccent angle living in her own world as she dances and sings along to the loud music. she smiles at me, her smile lighting up the whole club, then a girl, comes up to Melody, she grabs Melody's shoulers and hugs her, the other girl was clearly drunk, "Melodyyyyy" she says, Melody turns around and smiles at her "hey harper, this is Vinn" she says pointing to me, the girl names harper smiles at me, "anyway, imm going home with himm," harper says pointing to Elijah.

i point to asher and signal him to come over here, he gets up from the seat he was sitting at and walks over "hey man" he says as me and him shake hands, asher then goes to harper and wraps his left hand around her waist "you going home with her" i ask him, he nods "hell ya i am"he says i give him a disgusted look, harper and asher walk away leaving me and melody alone.

"Do you have a way home?" i say facing Melody, "um yes i can catch the bus or uber", i shake my head at her no way am i letting her take any of those things happen no way in hell especially at 12am at night, "no i can take you home, when do you wanna leave?" i ask her, she smiles at me softly "can we go now im tired?" i take her hand and we walk out, i hadn't had anything to drink tonight so i could drive, i open the car door and she gets in i close her door and then i walk over to the driver's seat.

"Nice car" i look beside me at melody, "thank you, got it this year" she laughs a little clearly a bit tipsy, "can we get ice cream" if she being for real, ice cream out of anything "whatever you wish" she gives me a cheesy smile, and responds "thank you!" her voice is filled with excitement, if i could see her this happy and exited everyday, i would buy a whole ass ice cream shop. i drive to the ice cream shop, i park the car quickly getting out and heading to her door and opening it up for her "such a gentleman", only for her, i nod at her and we walk into the ice cream shop.

I watch her as she stares at all the ice cream flavors, if i did not know any better i would think she is a 5 year old child, getting ice cream after school to celebrate because she got a gold star on her silly test. "Can i get salted caramel, please" she asks me her voice cute and kind, "whatever you want", she looks up at me happily "yay!" she says, she a massive smile spread across her face.

she gets her ice cream and we walk over to a bench outside, "i have always loved salted caramel, totally underrated", when she says that i notice and accent i must of not noticed before, "are you from america?" i ask confused, "no, i moved from australia when i was 19" she says, intesting australia, i have been there once 2 years ago for business, "your accent is not that strong" i say, as it isn't she sounds american, "it never has been, even in australia i sounded american", i hum in response, "are you italian i here an accent" she asks me, i never realized my accent was noticeable "yes i am i moved to america at 14" , she smiles at me "thats so cool i have always wanted to go to italy" my lips form a small line, and she finishes her ice cream, she gets up and throws the cup the ice cream was in, away.

we get into my car and i drive her home, from the outside, its notice her house is not big nor small, i wait in my car till shes inside her house for at least 5 minutes just to make sure she's safe.

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