"Cleo..." Seth whispers, our breaths mingling as his thumb slowly traces my lips, maintaining eye contact. I watch him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His eyes dare me, and the pulse in my pants surges. Suddenly, our lips crash toge...
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☀︎ ︎MANHATTAN, NEWYORK ☀︎︎ AUGUST 11:55PM
I flip down my car's sun visor and check my reflection—lipstick perfectly in place, no stray flyaways. As expected, I look perfect. Before stepping out, I slide on my oversized sunglasses. The moment I open the door, the flashes go off, and the paparazzi swarm, shouting questions at me.
"Whats the secret to your perfect skin?!"
"Are you dating anyone right now?!"
"Any upcoming travel plans?!"
"Who are you wearing tonight?!"
Ugh, the same old boring questions. I roll my eyes, ignoring them as I push through the crowd. My shades shield me from the blinding flashes as I glide past the line and straight into the club, leaving the paparazzi behind. Inside, the atmosphere is exactly as I expected: a mix of friends and people who wish they were. I flip my hair like I own the place—because, honestly, I practically do. My best friend, Gianna—Gia—comes running up, clutching a glass of alcohol.
"There she is!" she screams, wobbling slightly in her heels, clearly already a few drinks in. "The birthday girl!"
"Finally! There you are!" I tease, pulling her into a hug. Gia is the only person I consider a real friend; everyone else is just an accessory.
"Now I don't have to hide my drinking!" I laugh.
"As if you ever did!" She laughs back, nearly spilling her drink.
"Yeah, that's enough for you." I chuckle, grabbing the drink from her hand and taking a sip. "Cleooooo," she whines, "I just got that!"
I roll my eyes. "Bitch, you're literally falling over!" I laugh. "We're getting you water." I turn to one of the girls standing nearby. "Water," I demand. She looks confused for a second before scurrying off to get it. I mutter under my breath, "Fucking dumbass."
When the girl returns with the bottle, I snatch it from her and guide Gia to a seat. It's way too crowded downstairs, especially with all those people crowding around me, so I lead Gia up to the rooftop. It's still busy up here, but at least it's less chaotic than downstairs.
I sit Gia down and gently hold her face. "Drink," I command, pouring the water into her mouth. She manages to drink half the bottle before reclining back. "Feeling better?" I ask, settling next to her.
"Am I ruining your birthday?" she groans.
"No, I already had cake with Heather earlier," I reply.
"What kind? Was it strawberry? Strawberry's your favorite," she slurs, her eyes half-open.
I chuckle. "Yes, it was strawberry."
As Gia sobers up, I scroll through my phone and sip my margarita. On any other night, I'd be out making headlines and causing the usual trouble for my father to clean up. But this is my birthday party, and instead of enjoying it, I'm stuck here playing babysitter to my drunk friend. Not exactly how I pictured my night going. Honestly, it's a little annoying that Gia's already wasted before I even got a chance to enjoy my own party, but whatever—it's Gia. If anyone gets a pass, it's her. Besides, as her best-friend, it's kind of my responsibility to make sure she's okay. After about 20 minutes, Gia is already begging me to go back downstairs and dance.
