Teen Idols And Happy Meals

Candy and Cowgirls

Jacen’s POV

I couldn’t recall exactly when Halloween had stopped being about candy and had started being about slutty women in revealing costumes, but I figured it happened around the time I turned fourteen and had started attending these stupid parties. Now, the only tangible difference between a Halloween party and a regular party in Hollywood is the costumes.

The artificial fog being pumped into the room was the same. The strobe lights just as disorienting. The liquor just as readily available. The girls dressed just as skimpily; except now they wore bunny ears on their heads.

“Hey! You wanna dance?”

I paused in my skeptical perusal of the room to take note of the girl in front of me. She was clearly supposed to be a sailor, but I couldn’t help but think that that outfit was quite loosely adapted. She had the little cap of course, and the red shoes on top of thigh high stockings. But the little blue and red dress she wore was so short the people standing behind her could probably tell what color panties she was wearing. If she were wearing any that is.

I blinked lethargically at her. She was pretty I guess. Full lips, nice skin, thick eyelashes. All that stuff. But I couldn’t get over that sickeningly sweet scent wafting off her; like she’d taken a bath in vanilla extract.

“He’d love to,” Pat piped up beside me, shoving my shoulder encouragingly and causing some of my Manhattan to spill. I gave him a poisonous look. Not only was he speaking for me, but he was wrong.

“No thanks,” I told the girl, leaning back further in my seat and taking a sip of the drink I’d been nursing for a good half an hour.

“Oh c’mon,” she pouted, leaning forward more to get down to my level. My theory that she wasn’t wearing any panties was reinforced by the leers of guys passing behind her. “It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, go on Jace,” Pat said, mimicking the girl’s tone as he smirked at me, “It’ll be fun.” I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my drink. He shoved me again, causing the drink at my lips to slosh.  I closed my eyes for a long, angry second.

“I said no thank you,” I repeated as I opened them. My irritation was primarily directed at Pat, but he seemed least affected by it. The girl seemed far more offended as she pranced off, her tiny skirt ruffling against the tops of her thighs.

“So what? She not pretty enough for you either?” Pat pestered, snapping his fingers at a cocktail waitress dressed as a cat.

“Guess not,” I muttered, glancing around again. I knew who I was looking for, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself, lest anyone else.

“You know, I don’t get you Jace,” he said, taking a shot from the cocktail waitress’ tray, “When you had a girlfriend you were always fucking other girls. But now . . . Well I haven’t seen you with anyone since you dumped Rosalyn. I mean, what’s your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal,” I snapped. Of course, I could’ve told him that I, in fact, wasn’t single. But I was hesitant to. In order to protect Nikki from the public eye, I had to keep our relationship one hundred percent secret.

“Well prove it then,” he said, taking his shot, “Dance with one of these girls.”

I made a face. “I’m not drunk enough to dance,” I said. It was remarkably true. I’d been here for about an hour and was still on my first drink.

“And that’s another thing!” he went off, hooking his arm around the back of the leather sofa we sat on. “Do you know what time it is? Sloshed O’clock and what are you?” He leaned in close as if hoping to hear better, “Sober! What the fuck is up with that?”