Struggle For Power [✓]

Chapter 22

Selena's POV

Ariana, Demi and I were walking down the streets of the big city, bridesmaid dresses and god knows how many accessories for us in and big shopping bags, filling our hands to the brink - and we weren't even done. I had come to the conclusion that weddings are just a method to support capitalist societies. 

However, on a more vain note, I genuinely felt like we were in a scene of Gossip girl, our sunglasses bigger than our heads, bags big enough to block the entire path with us three walking down. I was definitely feeling like a cheaper version Serena right now. Maybe even a Blair at a push without the bitchy energy. 

After shopping for dresses for over 2 hours and everything else for another good few hours, we decided to head to a small cafe and grab something to eat and to satisfy our hunger and to save ourselves from the insanity of retail therapy. I was in need of some kind of refreshment and I was avoiding alcoholic based drinks in case of drastic decisions. 

I felt like this small shopping spree was a need right now. Mentally, I felt like I was everywhere, but nowhere. It was weird, I couldn't even describe it other than that. I just hadn't felt like myself, like I had spirited elsewhere. I hadn't even thought about Justin and his confession earlier. It didn't even haunt my mind, not even in the moments of silence between us three.

"We still haven't even discussed one of the most important things about a wedding." Demi stirs her hot drink with a wooden stirrer.

"And that would be?"

"What are we doing for your bachelorette then? I am thinking a stripper." Demi speaks up even louder, squealing about the concept of a half-naked guy on top of us - her in particular - not that I wouldn't particularly mind the idea of.

"Honestly guys, I don't fancy a big party. I am happy with face masks, manicures and cocktails."

"Why are you doing this to us?" Demi groans, her head falling back until it hits the soft material of the booth, completely distraught by this revelation that was ruining her plans to lust over a half-naked man. She was absolutely terrible at trying to discreetly hide her mood with her glares glaringly obvious.

"This is literally the only day you'll have a free pass to have an eight pack in your face and Michael cannot even get pissed off at you." Ariana, who I thought would be more on my side, was now choosing Demi for this.

I stared at the two women who were burning me with their intense flares of disappointment.

"I'll remember this information when it's your turn to get married and I'm planning your bachelorettes." I eye them both up with a hard stare before taking a sip of my coffee latte, which was a little too hard.

"So, that's a pass on the stripper then?" Demi sounds hopefully like I was going to change my mind but I roll my eyes in response, making it obvious.

"I will make this perfectly clear right now, no strippers." Just to add to my point further which makes them laugh quietly to themselves. "Just no naked men in general."

"Fine." Demi huffs while crossing her arms, trying to show her high teens annoyance. "What about a fema-"

"Not even a female stripper, Demi." I huff as I slam the coffee mug down on the wooden table a little too hard, making Ariana jump slightly. Though, I felt a female stripped would have been better in my opinion. "I don't need to see some beautiful woman and drown myself in self-pity."

Ariana and Demi exchange a glance at each other before simultaneously leaning forward, elbows leaning against the table. Their sights were now back in my direction, this time coated with a form of worry.