reckless ✧ s.w.

one

"Ugh," I moaned, reaching over to my nightstand and turning off my alarm.

Last night, Danielle and I went clubbing with a few friends. Although I knew how to control myself, I let loose last night and downed more than I could remember. Dani was completely wasted, and I remember having to hold her up to keep her standing. I was in between tipsy and drunk, but I had also smoked a few joints. Once we got home, Dani followed me to my room and we knocked out.

We were your typical party girls from the Bay, always have been since junior year. Any party in the area—you name it—we would be there. It was a bad habit going out every night and drinking, but it was something we just could not stop doing. Sort of like drugs.

"Danielle," I shoved my best friend. "Get up."

"Mmmm," She whined. "Wake me up when it's 2015."

"It is 2015, bitch." We had celebrated New Years Eve in West Hollywood, at Club Den. We were now paying the consequence because we have rehearsals for our tour today.

Danielle and I were signed to Universal Music almost a year after our YouTube channel hit 2 million subscribers. Turns out one of their artists saw a cover of ours and liked it. So, we moved from NorCal to Los Angeles and now we're renting an apartment here in Hollywood. And well, here we are going to be on tour!

I checked my phone for the time, 7:40 AM and realized we would be late.

"Danielle! We're gonna be late, dammit!" I shot up, rushing into the bathroom. Once I was finished with my morning routine, I applied very minimal makeup—mascara, eyeliner, and filling in my eyebrows. I ran to my closet, pulling out a black and white baseball tee dress, a black lace halter bralette, and Nike pro spandex to wear underneath. I then shoved a pair of black leggings, sports bra, muscle tank, and my black free runs into a duffle bag.

"W—what?" Dani slowly lifted herself out of bed, obviously hungover.

I groaned, "This is the third time, Dani. We have to get our shit together. Get up and get ready!"

"Fine," She lazily shooed me away. Dani dragged her hungover ass to the bathroom and did her normal routine.

Ten minutes later, she looked refreshed and got dressed. She was wearing a pair of distressed light wash boyfriend jeans and a Brandy Melville crop top. She was running around, trying to look for something.

"Hurry up! We have to be at rehearsals in less than 15 minutes!" I yelled, while trying to shove my feet into my boots.

Once I accomplished that, I ran out of my room and packed Dani's rehearsal clothes into the her duffle bag. Managing to hop down the stairs with two bags, I stumbled into the kitchen to grab us a quick breakfast—PopTarts.

"Done!" She called, rushing down the flight of stairs.

"Finally," I mumbled. "Fuck, we have 5 minutes to get to the studio before Sophia kills us." I grabbed my keys from the hooks and jumped into the car.

Sophia is our manager—a great one, might I add. She's a sweetheart, and always thinks about what's best for us. Sophia is in her mid twenties, so she understands the problems we end up tangling ourselves in.

"Thank god traffic isn't bad today," Dani sighed.

"Yeah, I guess. But, we can't keep going out and getting wasted. Tour is coming up so soon, and rehearsals are ending this week. That's it."

"Oh shit, I forgot my clo—" I pointed to the back seat, smirking ahead at the road.

"I knew you'd forget, so I did it for you." She turned her head and saw her duffle bag, then let out a light laugh.