beautiful thieves | ✓

thirteen

Once again I'm barely recognisable. I'm wearing the outfit that Jayden picked out for me, along with the beige tights that very nearly hide every single bruise, with my hair styled and curled and smoky black eye-shadow on my eyelids. I feel confident and almost sexy. Not like myself at all, but in the best way possible.

Maeve slaps my ass as she walks past, looking just as incredible in a short, black, bodycon dress with her makeup done similarly to mine. I seriously need to learn her techniques so I can get this glam as easily as she can.

"You ready?" she asks, looking over her shoulder as she spritzes her neck with floral perfume.

I give a single nod of the head. "I think so."

She reaches up to grab a black, zip-up hoodie from a hanger. "Take this," she says, holding it out to me. "It'll be cold out in the fresh air. But you'll be taking it off at the club so don't worry about it covering your outfit."

I take it and thank her, knowing that the clothing isn't from a cheap as soon as I slip it on. It's soft and cosy and I don't think any amount of times through the washing machine would change that.

Maeve was right; the evening air is chilly even with Maeve's arm winded through mine, the breeze blowing straight through my tights and hoodie. Thankfully it's a quick trip to the garage, where everyone else is waiting in laid-back yet posh and expensive attire, standing beside two vehicles-- excuse me, limos-- with two men I don't recognise, presumably the drivers. I've been told that Blake is the most professional and skilled driver here, but of course he's planning on drinking tonight, just like the rest of us, so he's not going behind the wheel. However, I might take it easy considering the most amount of alcohol I've consumed is when Dad snuck me a cider while us and the twins had the evening without Mum hovering around.

Everyone starts to climb into the sleek, black cars when Maeve and I finally arrive, but Enoch waits for a moment before approaching the two of us.

"Good evening, Lucy and Penelope," he says, before handing us each a card. I furrow my brow in confusion, only to take a closer look at the card he's given me, seeing that my name is now Penelope Carpenter and I was born on February 14th, 2002- Valentine's day.

I hold up the ID. "Do I look like a Penelope to you?"

Enoch shrugs, smirking. "It's what the online random name generator selected for you."

"Hey, it chose Lucy Faulconbridge for me," Maeve deadpans, and I can't help but snort.

I shake my head and give Enoch a playful shove before we pile into the back of the limo, joining Colby and Chelsea who seem to already be on the drinks as they hold shot glasses and are laughing hysterically about something. Not that I'm judging that they started at three in the afternoon-- Chelsea's a mother for Christ's sake and deserves some fun.

We start to drive and I'm handed a shot glass barely before we've even left the garages. It's almost spilling out the sides with a liquid that by the strong stench and the appearance of water I can tell is vodka. I down it in one, almost choking as the taste overpowers any senses and I laugh along with the others. So much for taking it easy.

We're driving for barely ten minutes by the time we make it to where the nightclub must be, but as we all step out of the vehicles, me already pretty wobbly in my heels and after the shots I've had, I see that the area is not as impressive as I'd thought it would be. We're in a run down part of a city that seems abandoned, with graffiti all over the walls of the crumbling buildings. I don't think I've ever been somewhere so derelict and if it wasn't for me being with a group of people who I know will have my back, I'd be shitting myself. These alleyways are not somewhere I'd want to walk through alone.