I slipped on the white dress. Pulling it up over my hips. My long black hair pulled up into a messy knot on the top of my head. I took a few risqué photos before I headed out of the apartment.
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When I got to the club I saw Simon standing outside. He was like my god father. My dad had died three years ago and his best friend, the oh so famous Simon Cowell had to watch over me. Even though I was set with money and legally an adult.
I gave him a glare before walking into the club. I smiled around at a few people, slightly waving my fingers at them. The smile soon turned into a scowl when I saw Michael and a few other guys standing in the corner of the bar, downing shots. I looked away, not letting them ruin my night. I saw uncle James talking to my most favorite girl ever. She looks quite similar to me. Same hair, and body type, but she was a little lighter than me. I soon walked over to see uncle James and Selena.
"GOMEZ!", I shout! I jumped on her back and gave her small kisses on the side of her cheek. She just giggled, taking my hand and dragging me off her back.
"Hey Sexy Lexi!", she chuckles pulling me into a bear hug. After pulling out of the hug she grabs my hand, slowly twirling me around. Her eyes graze up and down, eyeing my dress heavily.
"Jesus, Lex!", She sighs," Cleaning up nice! Breaking hearts and dicks!"
I blush winking at her. All of a sudden someone clears their throat. I look over to Uncle James. He was giving us both and awkward look.
"Oh my God! Geez Gomez, Really? Not around the uncle!", He says before signing, and walking off.
"Oh well! Gotta tell the truth!"
She winks at me.
"So where were you tonight? You weren't at your flat. I left the apartment and walked up stairs, but you were not there.", I say.
"Oh, right! Zayn needed help with a song, so I was over in the studio before we came here."
I grimace. That boy is to big of a playboy for me.
"Anyway, want to go get some shots?!", she asks changing the subject.
"Yeah!", I squeal, taking her thin fingers in my hand, dragging her over to the bar.
"Four shots of the strongest you got!" I shout at the bartender.
"ID please!" He must not trust the bouncer! Oh well! I flash my card at him. He stares for a moment, then nods. He walks away. A few moments later he returns with a small black tray. Sitting on top of the tray are four shot glasses filled with a light brown liquor.
