Midnight Memories

t w e n t y // n i n e

"The saddest thing about betrayal is that it rarely comes from your enemies." - Anonymous

When I finally woke up, Ryder was gone. I felt disoriented, as if I had been asleep for years, even though it had only been a few hours.

I rolled out of bed and opened up the blinds. It was completely dark outside, I had slept the whole day away.

Sighing and rubbing my eyes, I walked over to the closet and took a cream colored Patagonia fleece pullover off it's hanger, suddenly freezing cold.

Wrapping my arms around my chest, I padded quietly down the hall to the stairs, where I begun to hear voices, all layered over one another, including one that sounded like it belonged to a female. I headed downstairs, following the sound of their conversation, which lead me to the living room.

Remy was sitting in a large leather swivel chair in front of yet another Mac, typing in some sort of code, whilst Grier did the same on a laptop. Niall of course, was eating, whilst simultaneously watching a soccer game on the huge flat screen mounted on the wall. Ryder was silently sitting next to him, staring blankly at the screen.

Jet was sitting on a stool at the mini bar, next to what had to be the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen. She had long blonde hair, flawless skin and piercing blue eyes, her tall frame looking like it belonged on a runway at fashion week rather than a barstool in a Boston living room.

"Stella!" Jet smiled when he saw me. "Come here, there's someone i'd like you to meet."

I walked over, feeling incredibly self conscious in the presence of the ethereal beauty. "Hello." I said dumbly.

"Stella, this is Paisley Paddington, an old friend of mine. I asked her to drive down from Princeton to come talk to you." Jet introduced her.

I gasped involuntarily. "So you're the Paisley that..." I trailed off when I saw her wince.

"So." She took a sip of the glass of red wine she'd been holding onto. "I see Derrick told you about me."

"No, no." I backtracked. "It was actually Jet that mentioned you."

Paisley set down her glass. "Good. Then at least you heard the true side of the story."

"Well, actually." Jet cut in. "We never got that far."

Paisley chuckled darkly. "Only for you Jet, would I drive four hours in the snow to come talk about the past."

"He's gotten worse, Pais. Only you know the true extent of how dangerous he is. She needs to be warned."

Paisley sighed, anxiously tugging at her navy Tommy Hilfiger blazer. It shocked me that Paisley, who was so outwardly perfect, seemed genuinely haunted by what she was about to say.

"Well, it all started a few years ago, back at Juilliard. I was a ballet dancer, just starting my freshman year. I wasn't from the city; i'm from Westchester County, so I was sort of the "new girl." She made quotations with her fingers. "All the rest of them had been training together since they were three years old. The all lived in the Upper East Side, and had all travelled the world, and could afford all the toe shoes and tutus their heart desired. My dad comes from old money, so I was by no means poor, but being a prima ballerina was my dream for myself, not my parents'. I had to make my own way."

She stopped, taking another long sip of wine before she continued to speak. "Anyway, the first few months was the shittiest experience i've ever had. The girls were obsessively competitive, I had to stay a certain weight so I was barely eating, and some days I would dance until my feet bled, just to distract myself. Then, one day, when I was leaving the studio, I bumped into Derrick." Another pause. "Everyone knew Derrick. He was a senior- a creative genius, everyone said. Not to mention he was a Vanderbilt. He was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, and, well, he wanted me. Plain old Paisley Paddington with the ratty pointe shoes and three year old leotards."