Madison regrets ever going out with Lindsay. The mess in her kitchen is catastrophic; she had to cook something after getting back from the club last night, and, as the law of means goes, she had nothing she could snack on. Clothes are strewn across her living room, and she's betting at least one sock is missing. This shit happens every single time.
Yet, she still goes out with Lindsay, time and time again.
Her phone buzzes. Mads spends a solid minute wandering around, trying to locate the sound—or more like the memory of it. Finally, she spots it under a couch cushion and sighs with relief. At least she hasn't lost that.
There aren't many notifications on the screen: a message from her mom asking what time she'll come over, a snap from her brother who stayed in the States for the summer, and a voice memo from Lindsay – the latest one. Mads rolls her eyes. It's three minutes long, and she's sure more than half of it is her friend's hangover (or possibly still-drunk) rambling.
She's mostly right.
Lindsay goes on about last night's party, how she can't believe Mads actually had the balls to talk to Lando Norris (!!!), the hottest man in Monaco, and how Julie is such a coward for running her mouth about a guy who didn't even do anything. Mads isn't entirely convinced that Julie flat-out lied, but maybe she just embellished the rejection to make it more dramatic—a lot of girls do, let's be honest.
Mads gets distracted by the loud sound of a car speeding past her window. She sets her phone down and walks over to the balcony to close it. She catches a glimpse of the car's tail—a blueish-green Porsche Carrera cruising effortlessly down the street. Madison shakes her head. There's way too much money concentrated in this one place for her liking.
Everyone here seems to be either rich, famous, or both. And often an asshole, to boot.
She returns to her phone to see a new message from Lindsay:
"You're in?"
Mads has no idea what Lindsay is asking. She scrolls back to where she thinks she stopped listening to the voice memo. That's when Lindsay starts rambling about a very private, almost impossible-to-get-into party she's been invited to. Mads can already taste the alcohol on her tongue, and she's incredibly tempted to decline being Lindsay's plus-one. But then, Lindsay mentions Martin Garrix will be there.
Mads is a sucker for any DJ who's ever played at Tomorrowland.
Without overthinking, she texts Lindsay back: I'm in. She isn't even surprised when her phone rings a second later. Sighing, she accepts the call.
"Yes, bitch, I knew you were my ride or die!" Lindsay practically screams into the phone, her voice echoing in Mads' already-pounding head.
Madison closes her eyes, steeling herself. "When have I ever said no to you and a private party?"
Lindsay laughs on the other end. "True!"
A cough and some swearing follow, making Mads frown. "Linds, are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Lindsay replies breezily. "I just need a really cold shower before we go."
"Should we get there on time, or are we making a late entrance?" Mads asks, knowing Lindsay's answer before she even speaks.
"On time is probably impossible for me, but it's on a yacht, so we actually have to be there between seven and eight. Otherwise, they'll leave the marina."
Mads raises an eyebrow. How the hell did Lindsay score an invite – and a plus-one – for a private yacht party?
"I mean, their loss," Lindsay adds, laughing.

YOU ARE READING
bet on it | lando norris
Fanficin which Madison has no intention of falling for another Formula 1 driver - until the very last moment, when she does and can't help herself or in which Lando doesn't care enough to admit he has commitment issues - until the very last moment, when h...