Make Me Forget✔

O N E

Song Of The Chapter: Camila Callebo- Crying In The Club.

Anastasia's POV_

Drink after drink after drink after drink...

It doesn't take much to get a girl like me wasted.

Another Saturday night, another countless amount of money spent on alcohol, another chance to escape the week's typical routine, another foreign bed to visit, another new pair of lips to kiss, and another night to forget.

It's just that, being young and attractive isn't going to last forever, and from the way I see it, youth isn't here to stay, so I better take advantage of the time and admiration I'm getting, before I'm too old to have fun.

Yes, a little club full drinks and hot guys to take me home is my fun.

A bitch?

Maybe...

But I'll take it.

We all have a certain vision of a perfect night, and because mine is different than yours, I can tell you're already forming a wrong image about the sweet and innocent Anastasia you first thought I'd be.

But here's the thing, If I'm okay with it, then you kinda have to be too.

I'm pleasing myself, for myself, not for others.

So basically, bitch or not, a woman knows what she wants, and when to get it. And I want nights I won't be able to remember in the morning, and I know exactly when to get them.

"What are you two so busy talking about?" I chuckled at my two best friends like the drunk, barely conscious human I am at the moment, after I came back from the bathroom, fixing my short, off-white satin dress properly as I talked.

Music, screams, giggles, dancing, smoking... The area around me was as crowded as ever, and I found myself unable to hear my own self as I spoke, so I wouldn't expect the girls to hear me either.

This amount of chaos isn't ordinary for a small club like the one we attended, but I guess everyone wants a fair share of the fun, just like we do.

Being an adult isn't exactly the way anyone could ever imagine it, and I think I'm one of the few people that never wanted to grow up.

Well, I'm still irresponsible and unorganised most of the time, but I have responsibilities now, just like everyone around this noisy room, so maybe a few more people joining in isn't such a bad idea, because I can see some new faces... and I like what I see.

Joyce and Mia were way too busy whispering and gossiping angrily to even notice I was back.

When I see them in such a state, I can already tell they're discussing a guy.

They have exactly the same taste in guys, which always leads them to little arguments about the topic.

I don't usually take much time in the bathroom, but my makeup needed major fixing, and I'm totally not going around hot boys looking like a drunk mess.

I'm pretty drunk, that's for sure, but I can at least look decent while being it.

"Who's your next victim?" I laughed, resting my heavy head over Mia's shoulder to get a clear idea about the empty chat they picked up.

"That guy." Joyce answered my question with a light smirk on her face, pointing at a guy sitting behind the bar, a cup in his hand, as he sipped on his drink slowly, his foot tapping over the metal frame of his stool nervously, as if he can't sit still, wearing a plain white T-shirt, a red bomber and a pair of black jeans, his hair in a very messy quiff, as he kept getting his fingers through the locks of his straight brown hair one time after the other.