𖥻 ❙ ━ 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗦 𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗦.
❛ IT WAS NEVER JUST AN INFATUATION. ❜
take a dive in the life of luxury as you follow
valerie tesfaye in her ongoing battle between
who she is, who she wants to be, and what
has to be done to get th...
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𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻, calls and connections 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 - 𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿/𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗮. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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WHATEVER YOU DO PRINCESS V, make sure your ladies in the making have your back. If not... the pressure might break things you thought were unbreakable.
Taking my phone I send a text to Blair saying I won't make it. Earning a string of messages and rings; asking me to explain, which would end with the both of us disappointed. Silencing my phone, I order a shot before actually giving it a shot.
"Why the drink?" a familiar voice asks, "Special occasion." I hum raising the alcoholic drink up. Glancing at Bart, he hums. Ordering a drink himself, "Well, cheers to a special occasion." he tells me with a small smile.
Feeling my lips tuck up I nod, clicking my glass against his. Talking to the older man, I quickly figure out that I'm surprisingly more blunt and honest when I have some sort of liquid encouragement. Nodding at my answer, he doesn't seem to be too surprised.
The light of my phone brightens once again, glancing at the caller id my lips part, "I- I have to take it." I say, taking the call. Turning around on the chair I move away a bit, "Abel?" I ask, "Hello, Lolita." the almost foreign voice greets.
Chuckling softly at the irony I look around if I can catch a glim of him, "What do you need?" I ask the older boy, "Nothing." he denies, "Then why are you calling?"
Hearing him take a deep breath, I rest my search around the bar, "I- I just missed you." he admits. Seeing Bart still sit, I move my eyes away from the older man, "I miss you, too." I confess to my older brother.
"I'm going back to UEC soon. Maybe we can hang out, catch up?" he asks, "I would love that." I nod, even though he can't see me.
Continuing the small talk, I end it by saying that we can do this when he's actually here. Ending the call, I take a breath.
Looking around the bar you can easily spot the middle-aged Wall-Streeters. Most of them married yet flirting. Glancing around I can't spot the older Bass' anywhere. Taking the same seat, I see the note about him leaving on the napkin.
With a fifty dollar bill that I'm assuming is for my drinks and a ride home. Raising my hand I order another shot, tucking my dress right.
Talking among the older man, I laugh at their — not at all funny — jokes. Using their disgusting desire to get laid to my advantage. Which earns me many business cards. And as you might have guessed prohibition never stood a chance against exhibition.
After all, it's human nature to be free, and no matter how long you try to be good, you can't keep a bad girl down.
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