Aria Anderson was only 20 and fresh out of college with a degree in choreography, Ballet, modern, jazz technique, and body conditioning. When she met Spencer Collins. A 25-year-old, theater choreographer. With a dark soul.
She thought she escaped h...
You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it.
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I look around the room and sigh heavily. I hate being with people I don't know. My own friends weren't even home last night. They've been celebrating all weekend. They both knew we had to get up early. I roll my eyes at the thought of my best friends. We're getting too old to be playing this game still. Especially with something this big. I take a sip of my coffee and continue looking at everyone. There are definitely more guys than girls here. Which makes sense. But, I hope they are nice or at least leave me alone. I don't want to make friends with anyone. Just be cordial because we are coworkers. But, I still don't want to be bothered. I feel someone's hand graze my butt and turn around with a quickness.
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I roll my eyes. Damn it, Rico. Roxy takes my coffee out of my hands and starts drinking it.
"Come on. Are y'all serious right now?" I say with a groan.
"Lemme get some of that chica." Rico says.
Roxy passes it to her. Rico starts walking away with it as I follow behind her.
"Come on." She says taking a sip. "I got the meanest hangover."
"Not my problem."
"I'm right there with you."
"Again not my problem. Y'all shouldn't have been partying all night again. Knowing y'all had to get up early like me."
"Don't act like you're ms. innocent."
I roll my eyes at them.
"I'm done with that life. Now give me my shit." I say reaching for it.
Rico passes it back to me and I take a sip. To find it empty. I groan out.
"I'm gonna kill you, Ricole Santana," I say as I toss the cup in the trash.
"Oh, meirda." She says as she runs off.
I chase after her. Dodging through people who were staring at us. Roxy standing there laughing.
"Come on honey bee. Since when did you get so slow?"
