I leaned back, sighing as I closed my eyes for a brief moment to ease to aching in them. I'd been cramming both my thesis papers all day since I had to submit the drafts by next week and it wasn't helping that I was sober while doing this crap. Bo hadn't had the time to pick up a new batch, too busy with prepping for finals. All he had was pot and that crap was only good for nothing but smiling and laughing like a domesticated seal.
I looked around. The library was eerily quiet. It was already half past eight and I was the only person in the building save for the grumpy old hag Sheila who sat by her large desk.
As if knowing she was being watched, she lifted her head, scowling at me. The bitch was a raging Catholic and after I destroyed the town's beloved St. Paul's Roman Catholic Church, she's hated my guts. It wasn't fair really, how all these religious fanatics wouldn't let it go. I went to prison for that shit and granted, my brother got me out after serving six months out of my one year sentence but I didn't ask him to. I was perfectly willing to rot in prison for the rest of my life, it wasn't my fault I had the unfortunate fate of having a heroic brother always ready to save me from my demise.
I checked my phone. There were a few missed calls from Jude like always and a bunch of texts from Bo and Tristan, telling me to get my ass out of the library and meet them at Mikey's.
I sighed, figuring I needed some alcohol in my system to at least help me sleep tonight. I walked out of the library, muttering a quick goodbye to Sheila who simply huffed out a breath in response.
I headed to the Ferrari I had stolen from Jude's warehouse where he stored all the toys he'd grown bored of. Technically, I was just borrowing. If he hadn't taken the keys to my car and bike last week, I wouldn't have had to take his car without his permission.
I dumped my books on the passenger seat, shrugging off my oversized Princeton sweatshirt and settling on the camisole I had underneath. As I drove off, I lit up the last joint I had left.
When I parked outside the bar, everyone turned at the sight of the damn Ferrari. I rolled my eyes as I exited the car, ignoring the eyes that followed my every movement. I took one last drag from my joint before throwing it on the pavement, stomping my boot on it as I walked towards the entrance.
The vicinity was packed with party goers who were seeking temporary salvation at the bottom of a liquor bottle after a week of living their miserable lives. Mark, the bouncer, was standing outside the door and I kissed his cheek as I passed him.
Mikey's Bar & Grill was known for their beer that Mikey brewed himself. One taste and you'll be asking for round after round. What made it so desirable was that Mikey refused to sell it for commercial production and would rather have his drink exclusively served to his patrons. I'd cheers to that.
I passed the bar, nodding curtly at MJ who manned the fort. He gifted me a wink and had a glass of whiskey sliding towards me by the the time I reached him. Leaning over the counter, he met me halfway as I kissed him in greeting. I traced his bottom lip with my tongue before meeting his, tugging at the dog tag he still wore despite having been discharged from the army five years ago. I pulled him closer to me as I deepened the kiss, the taste of something spicy catching me off guard.
"You either don't know what a toothbrush is, which is absolutely disgusting, or you've been swiping hot wings from the kitchen again," I muttered.
"You callin' me a thief?"
"No, but everyone knows you're a fuckin' glutton who cannot be trusted alone in the kitchen."
"We all have vices. Mine's just way tastier than yours."
I smirked. "That's cuz you haven't tasted mine."
"And trade in my hot bod for skin and bones?" He snorted. "I'll pass."
"Good, cuz I'll kill you if you use that shit."
He chuckled, straightening. "I thought you were off tonight?"
"Needed some juice," I said, settling myself on a stool. "Busy night, huh?"
"Would be really awesome if someone gave me a hand," he muttered sardonically.
"Isn't Raffy filling in for me?"
"Yeah, but the kid can barely keep up with me and I have to pick up his slack all the fucking time," he muttered, sending a glare over at his cousin who was scrambling to serve and take orders on the other side of the bar. "Can't I just fire him, Red?"
"Babe, you've fired three people already. I don't have the time to hire another person for you to fire. Just give him a chance, yeah? I'm really busy with school and I won't be able to take shifts until after finals."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course, Ivy League."
"Fuck off," I bit out, shoving him.
He snickered and tended back to his patrons while I turned, eyeing the bar for a moment. It was a two story establishment, humble but could not be easily mocked. It wasn't sleazy but there were a few men who looked like they could kill you if you looked at them the wrong way though. The tables were filled and so were the booths that were set along the walls. A band was playing up front and they didn't sound like shit for once.
I eyed the upstairs area where the pool tables and arcade games were placed but didn't catch glimpse of Bo who often spent his time there, emptying his pockets by playing a shit ton of Pac-man.
I downed my glass, slamming it down at the bar and MJ didn't even bat an eye as he filled it to the brim.
"Wanna take the bottle?"
I pondered on the question for a moment but shook my head. "Not tonight, babe," I said before walking away as I caught sight of the two idiots sitting in my booth, arguing about some shit.
Bo was the first one to catch sight of me and he didn't miss a beat. "Tell me. De Niro or Brando?"
I snorted, sliding beside Tristan. "Brando."
"What?! Come on! Have you seen Taxi Driver? De Niro killed that movie!"
I shrugged, leaning back. "Have you seen A Street Car Named Desire? Damn, what I'd give to have been born in his generation."
"Stanley raped Blanche!" he exclaimed, yanking his beanie off his bald head.
"That was his character not him, dumbass," Tristan said. "And the fact that you can't differentiate him from the character speaks volumes about his skill. His portrayal of Stanley turned him from being virtually unknown into a prominent figure in Hollywood."
"Oh, please. He's a stiff actor! He barely even acted in The Godfather!"
"So stiff he won an Oscar for it and then refused to accept the award," I muttered, chuckling when he rolled his eyes.
"The irony of it is De Niro played the younger version of Brando's character in the sequel. De Niro is inferior on that point," Tristan added.
"How come?!"
"For starters, De Niro was denied a role in the first Godfather movie and he auditioned for all of Vito's sons," I answered. "I mean, yeah, Raging Bull and Taxi Driver were badass but he never came close to Brando. The man has no peers in the film world. He was practically the King of Hollywood in his prime. Like dude, if given the chance, who would you have wanted to be? De Niro or Brando?"
"Brando," Tristan interjected with a sip of his beer.
I tipped my glass in his direction in acknowledgement. "Brando is hailed not only as one of the finest men who ever graced the screen but also for portraying such gripping sense of realism in every character that he plays that no actor could possibly achieve. They all say so. And De Niro... well... he's a badass method actor but barely near in the same league as Brando. Brando practically revolutionized acting and empowered method acting. Compare the accolades and you'll wonder why you even asked who's better. And I bet Brando was one spectacular fuck."
"I shall drink to that!" Tristan exclaimed, clinking his beer bottle against my glass while Bo threw his hands up in defeat. "Sup, Gel?"
I shrugged. "Not much. Going through a massive craving period but I'll live."
He chuckled, as if going cold turkey in the middle of finals was humorous.
"Got somethin' for you to help with that," Bo said with a sly glint in his eyes.
I perked up, straightening as he placed his palm flat on the table, sliding it towards me while looking around us. I snatched it before he could even make it halfway down the table and curled my hand around it.
"I officially worship you," I said, feeling the powder as I pressed my fingers against the plastic packet.
He shrugged, looking like a smug motherfucker. "You flatter me. That would be one-fifty."
I rolled my eyes, fishing out my wallet and wincing when I barely had enough. "Yeah... uhm... put it on my tab?"
"No green. No shit. Sorry, sweet cheeks."
"Come on, Bo. I'm on a tight budget right now. You know Jude's got me on a fuckin' leash."
He sighed, scratching his head. "This is the third time, Gel. Can't run a business if I ain't got shit to finance it."
"I know, but come on... for a friend in need?"
"You know I adore the shit out of ya, but this is strictly business."
"Hey, I got this one," Tristan chimed in, taking out a few bills from his wallet. "My high just crashed anyways."
"You are awesome. I'll pay you back. I promise."
He shook his head, giving me a lopsided grin. "Nah. Just save me some for tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah. Got it," I said, downing my glass as I got to my feet. "Be right back," I called over my shoulder, striding towards the restrooms.
There was a line and I rolled my eyes, not in the mood to wait while some dumb bimbo spewed vomit all over the toilet bowl and headed for the men's room.
"Just gotta take a piss!" I announced as I pushed the door open, taking a sharp turn for the empty cubicles while a few men stood at the stalls.
I faced the toilet bowl, straddling the seat while flicking the plastic packet with a finger and folding it in half to equal the rations for Tristan and I. I poured enough for a line on the cover of the toilet tank before taking out my student ID and a five dollar bill. I did the task quickly, flushing down the toilet while simultaneously snorting the line.
I straightened, tilting my head back as I rubbed a finger under my nose and felt the drug enter my system.
Not enough.
I looked at the white powder in the packet, biting my lip as I contemplated on doing another line. Just a little bit. I went for it before I changed my mind. Soon enough, I was on a sweet motherfucking high.
Grinning, I walked out of the cubicle, skipping on sunshine and ignoring the strange looks sent my way as I exited the restroom.
"Angel?"
I turned, blinking my eyes as the glaze of euphoria messed with my senses. The man stood in front of me, looking at me intently.
"What are you doing here?" the man asked and after a moment, his identity registered in my drugged brain.
"Rick." I smirked, cocking my head to one side as I raked my eyes over him. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise? Wouldn't have pegged a fancy pants like you to come around here."
He glared, his eyes drawn to something on my face. "Your nose is bleeding," he said as he pushed me towards one corner.
My eyes widened and I hastily wiped the back of my hand over my upper lip, cursing at the sight of blood on my skin.
"Is this..." he trailed off, snatching what I was holding in my hand.
I immediately reached for it but he curled his fist around the damn thing, holding it behind him.
"Give it back," I hissed.
"Aren't you supposed to be trying to get clean?"
"Why don't you just fuck off? Are you following me or something?"
He scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself," he spat, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to me. "Here. Wipe your nose."
"Now, give it back," I said as I held the handkerchief by my nose.
He actually laughed, the sound mocking me. "I'm taking you home," he said, taking my arm and dragging me behind him.
"Stop it! I'm with my friends!"
"Okay, then say your goodbyes."
I yanked my arm out of his hold. "Give it back."
"Shut up before I flush this thing down the toilet," he fired back.
"It's not mine," I hissed. "Now. Give. It. Back."
He quirked a brow, opening his palm to look at it. I made a move to snatch the packet but he quickly locked it in his fist.
"Oh, this I'd like to see. Lead the way, Miss Lastor. I'll do the honor of handing this gem to your friend."
I was fuming at the audacity of this man.
"Who the hell do you think you are? I don't even know you!" I snapped, garnering a few glances from the people around us.
"I'm a good Samaritan. Now walk," he said, shoving me forward.
I refused to move and he dragged me out of the hall and into the middle of the bar. It didn't take a rocket scientist to find out who I knew since Bo and Tristan immediately looked my way at the sight of me being manhandled by an arrogant piece of shit who thought one fuck with me meant he could order me around like a little bitch.
"Is that them?" he asked, openly pointing at them.
I pursed my lips, shaking my head but Tristan, the dumb fuck, got to his feet. I stumbled as Rick dragged me behind him while marching purposely towards our booth.
"Let go!" I hissed, aware that a few patrons were looking our way, probably expecting a bar fight.
"Hey, bro, she said let go," Tristan said coolly.
Rick extracted his hold on me but only to hold up the packet in the air. "This yours, bro?"
My eyes widened at his idiotic move of blatantly waving around an illegal drug for an audience to see.
Tristan flinched. "Put that thing away, dumbass," he hissed, glancing warily around us.
Rick slapped it against Tristan's chest. "Do you know who this girl is?"
Tristan's brows creased as he pocketed the snow, glancing at me. "The fuck is happening right now?"
"Nothing," I huffed out, swiping the handkerchief under my nose before throwing it at Rick.
I didn't miss how Tristan's eyes widened when he caught the blood on the fabric. His gaze snapped over to Rick who stood arrogantly beside me.
"You didn't answer my question. Do you know who she is?" Rick asked, cocking his head in my direction.
"Of course I do."
"So that means you also know her brother then. Jude Lastor?"
Tristan visibly paled as he swallowed hard. I did the same at the thought of my brother dragging me to rehab kicking and screaming.
"I'll take that as a yes." He chuckled, taking a step forward and towering over Tristan. "Jude's been on a warpath lately, searching for the idiot who supplies his sister's addiction. What do you think he'll do to the both of you if I told him it was her supposed friends all along?"
Tristan and Bo shared a look, visibly terrified.
"Now, I don't condone violence and if I told him about this, I'll be serving you up for a sure death. I can't live with that, but I do know people from every corner of the law and I'm not necessarily against throwing two dumbass kids in jail who think doing drugs is cool. If you don't want to say goodbye to your future, stop helping her get herself killed."
He glanced at Bo who sat stock still in his seat.
"Is this the kind of crap Princeton teaches their students?" He scoffed, shaking his head as he looked back at Tristan. "Do yourselves a favor and get your shit together. Your parents aren't paying a shitload of money just so you can squander it off on poisonous exploits." He turned to face me. "And you. You're coming with me," he said, already dragging me behind him.
I waited till we were outside to blow the fuck up.
"How fucking dare you!" I screeched, shoving him away from me.
I was high enough not give a fuck that everyone within earshot turned to look at us.
"We fucked once and now you think you can just come swooping in with your high and mighty ass acting like you have the right?! Fuck you!" I slapped him before I could think of it. "You better pack your shit up cuz you won't have a career to get back to in the morning, asshole."
"Yeah? Let's just see how that goes for you," he taunted, taking a step to close the distance between us. "I'll gladly face your father and tell him what sort of depravity his sweet little princess has been getting into. He might even put me up for a promotion for this crap."
I gaped at him, the drug blasting through my fucking brain faster than a traveling light. The kick of my high was going on a bad note in a flash and the mention of my father only had my fucked up head going through a terrifying rollercoaster.
"You wouldn't," I said, his words sobering me up.
"Oh, baby, I would."
I swallowed hard, my body turning cold. "No, please," I whispered. "Don't do that. You can't," I pleaded, reaching my hands out to grip his jacket. "Please... he's going to... he's..." I trailed off, my breathing turning into harsh pants.
And then something happened. The world tilted. All hell broke loose and the devil was dragging me down by the ankles. I was losing my grip.
What the fuck?
"Angel," I heard him call, his arms coming around me to hold me up.
"No! Don't touch me!"
I shoved him away, staggering back as my head started going against me. My sight of him shifted, rapidly becoming distorted, the voices around and inside me deafening me. I dropped on the ground, clutching my head as a sharp sting struck me from the inside, tearing me in half, ripping me apart, and leaving every inch of me freezing cold. My heartbeat went onto a lap of cruel beats that slammed against my chest and I knew I was in deep shit at the realization that my trip went from bad to horrendous.
It all came too fast. I couldn't catch up. Too much was happening all at once. I was slipping. Dying.
"What the fuck did you do?!" I heard a voice say in the distance.
"We were arguing!"
"She's losing it! Fuck, she's bleeding!"
"I'll call 911."
"No, you fucking dumbass!"
I felt someone lift me up, carrying me somewhere but my head was spinning, my lids becoming heavy. I felt my back come in contact with a hard surface and I became aware that I was choking on something.
Blood.
There was cursing, yelling, and shadows looming around me. I was crying for reasons I did not fucking know, my body trembling harshly while someone was trying to talk to me as they guided me on my side and I all but vomited my guts out.
"Angel! Fuck! Keep it together!" a voice called as my consciousness threatened to slip into an alternate reality.
"How much did she take?"
"It's in my pocket!"
"People are watching!"
"Fuck. Bo, drive!"
My head was fuzzy, my heart seemingly beating against the back of my head while a sledge hammer was trying to break my chest at each blow and I wanted to disappear as every breath that I took choked me.
I felt movement, as if the ground was moving and I tried to take back my senses but the drug kept dragging me down.
I'm dying.
Air whipped around me while someone kept shouting, making it so hard for me to find something to hold onto to keep me from slipping away from reality as strange voices filled my head.
"Shut the fuck up!" I heard myself scream and everything went dead cricket silent.
I knew this shit. I've had bad trips before but that piece of shit just fed me with more bad in a smack.
I dragged myself up, leaning my back against a surface. I forced my eyes to stay open, fixating on my boots as they laid limply in front of me. I focused on my breathing, counting them, whispering them under my breath, not caring that the numbers were getting scrambled. I could barely feel anything. My limbs were numb. I tried to move them but they wouldn't. I pinched myself and it felt like something was electrocuting my fucking muscles. I screamed.
"Gel, chill out. How much did you take?" I heard someone ask and when I lifted my head, my hazy gaze settled on a distorted version of Tristan.
"I fucked myself up, man."
"It's okay. You're just having a bad trip."
"No shit!"
I swallowed hard, cotton balls lodged in my throat. I tried to feel my pulse and the lack of it had me freaking the fuck out as my anxiety went into overdrive.
"Relax... relax... let it pass. Get a grip. What else did you take?"
"I shot up on speed and took some Adderall a few hours ago to help me study," I managed to say, closing my eyes briefly. "And I smoked a joint on my way here."
"You fucking idiot."
We suddenly jolted and I screamed the shit out of myself in fear of falling. My hands shot out in front of me, grabbing a hold of anything and gripping, refusing to drown in my own mind.
"You're okay. You're okay. It won't hurt," I heard Tristan say.
"What? What won't hurt? The fuck are you saying?!" I blurted out in a frantic voice as I went into a complete 180, spinning in my own motherfucking axis.
"Stop freaking out and calm the fuck down. Don't fight it!"
I nodded, letting in deep breaths through my mouth and keeping my body relaxed. But it felt like something was pulling me down, electrocuting me from the inside. I shot down and slammed my door on every hallucination that threatened to mind fuck me.
It's not real. It's just in my head. I'm not dying.
I didn't know how long it was with just me breathing through the fucked up shit happening inside my head. It might have been five, ten, or twenty minutes but it felt like an eternity of being stuck in a dark unmoving oblivion as I surrendered my control and let the drug pass through me while my demons rejoiced at being fed.
Tristan was pulling at my hair and I lifted my head for fraction. He looked at me for a moment before letting out a sigh of relief.
"You look like shit but you're good," he said and I managed a weak laugh that ended far too quickly.
I felt us stop and I looked around. We were at the park. I sighed, at least we were out of sight. I let my lids drop, too tired to keep my eyes open.
Bo suddenly came bursting out of the night.
"Oh my god, we killed Angel Lastor! Angel Lastor, T! We're dead men walking!" he spluttered out hysterically.
I managed to snicker, opening my eyes halfway. "Too soon, babe. I'm still dying."
He hoisted himself up into the back of the truck and knelt beside Tristan. "You fucking dumbass! You blew off half an 8-ball in one fucking sitting! AN 8-BALL! What the fuck were you thinking?!"
"I wasn't."
"Just cuz your tolerance is as high as the goddamn sky doesn't mean you should get the fuck up there too!"
"Dude, shut up. You're not helping," Tristan said, slapping his chest.
I placed a finger over my lips. "Ssshh..." I whispered as my eyes fluttered to a close. "I'm dying here, man. Sssshhh…"
"Just breathe and don't fucking sleep," Tristan muttered, sounding frustrated. "Keep your eyes open dammit." He flicked my ear, snapping his fingers in front of me. "And seriously? An 8-ball? Do you have a death wish or something?"
"Something like that." I chuckled, tilting my head back and forcing my eyes open, focusing on counting the stars instead. "Hey... is that Camelopardalis?" I mumbled, lifting a hand and tracing the constellation with a finger.
"What?"
"Yeah, it is."
I chuckled, letting my hand sway along the sky as the stars floated along my movement. My eyes widened and I curled my hand into a fist, scooping up a handful of stars. I opened my palm and they flew away. I gaped like an idiot.
"Holy shit."
"You're insane," Bo muttered almost in despair.
"I might be." I chuckled, bringing my gaze onto him. "Good shit, Bo. Where did you get it? From the flea market? It wasn't yours. I felt it, you dirty little fucker."
He pursed his lips, looking rather guilty. He should be. "I'll have someone kick Jerome's ass. He said the shit was clean. Sorry."
I shrugged. "My fault. Got caught up. And where's that asshole who smacked me with massive anxiety?"
The two of them slid to the side and presented a very shaken up and pale Rick who looked like he just pissed himself as he sat on the edge of the truck. Precious.
"Hey, asshole." I smirked. "Someone kindly hit his pretty face for me."
Tristan didn't let the opportunity pass up and didn't even wait for a second as he swung a fist at Rick's face.
"Dumbass," he muttered as he sat back.
Rick took a moment to catch himself, clutching his jaw as he shook off the pain of the blow. Our eyes locked and he had the gall to glare at me.
"Don't even think about it. If you didn't pull that shit with me, this wouldn't have happened."
"If you didn't stuff yourself with cocaine, this wouldn't have happened at all," he spat back, flexing his jaw as he passed Tristan a glare.
"Touché." I chuckled, shifting lightly as I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold. "Did anyone see me?"
"No one who knew shit about you," Bo said.
"So they saw me."
"Kinda hard to miss a girl going through a bad trip in front of you, Gel," he muttered sarcastically.
I grimaced. "Damn. Jude's going to hang me upside down if he finds out," I said, my eyes immediately zeroing in on Rick. "You gonna snitch on me?"
He pursed his lips, looking at me for a moment while my two good friends went on the defensive as they turned and fixed their attention on him. He didn't seem the least bit intimidated.
"Are you going to do this again?" he asked.
A smirk played on my lips. "What do you think?"
"Yes or no, Angel."
"No," I lied.
He weighed in my response, leaning forward as he propped his forearms on his knees, eyeing me intently. And then he shook his head.
"He needs to know. What would happen if this incident occurs again?"
I snorted at his proper words. "You think I'm some virgin or something?" I said but he simply glared. "If I didn't know what I was doing, I'd be on the ER right now."
"That's not the point."
I shrugged. "I made a rookie mistake by taking too much but trust me, if I'm going to go, coke ain't gonna be my way out. That shit keeps me alive."
His face soured as if my words revolted him. "I'm not going to take part in this."
"Too late, babe. You're already in. You fucked me, remember? If you throw me under the bus, I'll drag you down with me." His eyes widened as he swallowed hard, his body visibly stiffening. I smirked, getting the reaction I wanted out of him. "I told you to stay away from me. Too bad you didn't listen the first time. Now, are you gonna snitch on me or not?"
His face hardened as he fixed me with a hard glare. "You do realize that you'll end up dead if you keep this up, right?"
I shrugged. "That's the general idea."
He let out a deep breath, glancing at Bo and Tristan almost accusingly. "You call yourselves her friends and yet instead of saving her from her demise, you're paving the way for her."
Bo and Tristan dropped their heads in apparent shame and if I had the energy, I would have hit the asshole already.
"Don't drag them into this. This is my mess. I fucked up. Not them."
"No. I gave you the snow," Bo interjected.
"I bought it," Tristan chimed in.
I rolled my eyes, "I shoved half an 8-ball up my nose. It's a miracle I didn't OD." I set my eyes on Rick, raising my brows expectantly, "You gonna snitch on me or not? Don't make me ask you again. I really hate repeating myself, just FYI."
He sighed, looking torn. "This is wrong."
I snorted. "Of course it is. I just don't give a shit."
"Exactly why I can't trust you to put a stop to this. The more you feed your addiction, the deeper you're digging yourself a grave. I can't let you do that, Angel."
I was getting pissed off. "Who put you in charge of what I get to fucking do?"
He shook his head in dismay. "You're better than this, Angel. Don't throw your life away for a temporary high. It's not worth it."
I scoffed. "Trust me when I say throwing my life away is definitely worth it."
His brows furrowed at my words, as if trying to analyze my shit. He glanced at Bo and Tristan, a questioning look on his face but they themselves glanced at me. I glared and they lowered their heads while Rick looked like he was trying to get inside my head. I was really starting to hate this guy.
He leaned forward, looking at me with a grave expression on his face. "Just imagine what your brother would feel if he saw you laying in your own vomit without a pulse, Angel. Do you really think Jude would be able to take it? He'll kill himself."
My anger rose and I lunged at him, smacking my palm across his face at his nerve to put my brother in the same context as death.
"Don't ever, ever, speak of my brother like that, you piece of shit."
He met my eyes, glaring. "Your lives correlate, Angel. You die, he dies."
I slapped him again but it might as well have been as flimsy as the air whipping against him at how he easily dismissed it. We glared at each other for a long winding moment. His eyes were raging and the more I looked at those blue pair, the more my head was fucking with me because I swear I caught them swirl like a sink getting drained.
I was the one who broke away first, too high to properly engage in a pissing match with this prick.
I sighed, leaning back and massaging my temples. My high was reaching its peak and I knew I was still too far from crashing.
"Let's get out of here. I need to get rid of this before I show my face to my brother. He'll sniff me out within a second."
"Where do you want to go?" Tristan asked.
I let out a weak breath, tilting my head back. "New York."
Bo and Tristan winced at that.
"Pass. The last time you dragged us up there, we almost got arrested," Tristan said with a firm shake of his head.
"Yeah. Sorry," Bo added.
I rolled my eyes. "You're such pussies."
"How about dumbass over here?" Tristan jerked his thumb at Rick.
"You're going home, Angel," the prick said and I really was getting so damn tired of him meddling with my life as if he had a part in it.
"Are you seeing me right now?"
He pursed his lips, his eyes flickering over my face in a quick movement. What he saw probably wasn't a pleasant sight as he looked grim after taking me in.
"Yeah. That's right. Don't even get me started with the fucked up shit going on in my head right now," I muttered with a sigh.
"I'm still not going to humor your whims."
"Why are you even here?" I asked, truly wondering.
"I'm here on behalf of your brother who's probably going crazy right now wondering where you are."
I scoffed. "Not my fault he can't get a life of his own and insists on forcing himself into mine."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Wow. You just reached a whole new level of bitch right now."
I clicked my tongue against my teeth, smirking. "It comes naturally to me."
"I'm taking you home," he said with a glare. "If your brother gives you hell for this, then face it. You brought this upon yourself."
"Oh, I'm not scared. I can easily ignore him. I do it every day." I shrugged. "I just don't want to see the look on his face when he sees me walking through the front door looking high off my fucking mind with my nose bleeding like a waterfall. It would kill him and I hate looking at him knowing that I'm causing him pain," I said, ignoring the look of shock settling over their features as they took my words in.
Damn. Shut up.
I sighed, tilting my head back and looking up at the dark night sky, feeling a great urge to do something. I felt alive and sitting on my ass was not using my high for what it's worth.
"Let's go back to Mikey's. I left my ride there and some punk ass kids might try stealing it." I glanced at Bo who remained seated on his spot. "Are you going to drive us there or should I?"
He shook his head, going back inside his truck and settling back on the road. Tristan sat beside me while Rick kept himself propped up on the edge of the truck. I just kept looking at him, figuring it was safer to fixate on something than to let myself wander off into a dark abyss that I couldn't escape from.
He matched my gaze, leaning forward, barely blinking as he kept a cold expression on his face while I simply smirked, taking in every inch of his face to humor me.
He was one good looking son of a bitch that if he wasn't a square asshole, I would have probably considered keeping him for a while to amuse myself. But he was. And I didn't like the fact that he kept pushing my buttons. But damn me if I didn't want to fuck him.
We arrived back at the bar and I broke off from our staring contest, laughing as I shook my head. He came towards me, taking my arm and pulling me up. For a moment, I held onto him, testing my limbs. When I was sure they wouldn't fall on me, I pulled away, jumping off the truck. Like a joke, my legs decided to fail me and I landed on my arms and knees, cursing.
I felt a gush of air over my head as someone landed on the ground with perfect grace and I rolled my eyes when I saw Rick standing over me with an irritated look on his face.
"You just can't stop with the tough girl act for one second, can you?" he muttered, grabbing a hold of my arms and helping me up.
"I got a reputation to maintain, sweetheart. Wouldn't want my peers thinking I'm a little bitch, now can I?" I retorted, wincing as I straightened.
He gasped my forearms, folding them as he inspected them with a careful eye. "Great. You scraped yourself. How do you expect me to bring you home looking like you got beaten at some dark alley?"
I snickered. "Please, I know a good beating. This is just a scratch."
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I'll take you to the hospital to-"
"Hell no!" I immediately cut in. "I'm Angel Lastor, you fucking idiot. Imagine the shit that comes along with that! The press would feast on me!"
He seemed to consider it while I huffed out a breath, telling myself to keep calm because losing my shit in my current condition would only offer an abundant amount of terrible outcomes.
"Okay," he stated calmly. "I just want to dump you on your doorstep already. Where's your car?"
I cocked my head in the general direction where I parked the car. Tristan, Bo, and I parted with a quick, 'See ya', respectively. Like always, they wiped off the events of our night from their pretty little heads at my expense. The thing about being an heiress and the daughter of a wealthy and influential man such as my father was that dusting off my misadventures under the rug was necessary unless all parties involved to said misadventures wanted to ruin their lives.
Bo and Tristan had long learned that it was better to look the other way and not press further than to go on digging knowing full well that they'd only be looking for trouble. They've watched me spiral out of control in every sense of it and they'd just shrug it off. By the next day, no word of it is uttered. But Frederick Richardson wasn't like them.
He was a prick with a self-righteous ass who didn't give a lick of damn about who I was or who my father was and didn't mind giving me his opinion about my choices in life and acted like he knew shit about me even though he's only known me for five minutes.
I ignored every word he uttered as we headed for the car. When I went to the driver's side, he immediately blocked my way.
"Not a chance in hell am I letting you drive. Give me the keys."
I scoffed, sidestepping but he merely followed my movement.
"Keys, Angel."
"Fine," I relented, slapping the keys on his palm. "Wreck it and you're answering to Jude."
He actually opened the door for me and I rolled my eyes at the unnecessary gesture. He slid into the driver's seat while I gathered my books and backpack in my arms before sliding into the passenger seat, dumping everything by my feet before closing the door. He glanced at me while I shrugged on my Princeton sweatshirt and took out my makeup kit from my bag.
I passed him a glare when he kept looking at me.
"What? Drive, idiot."
He caught himself and fumbled with the key, clumsily inserting it in the slot. He paused for a second before placing his hands on the steering wheel tentatively.
"The fuck are you doing?" I said when all he did was stare at the dashboard like a moron.
He shook his head and cleared his throat, eyeing the buttons in front of him for a moment and almost tentatively pressing a button that was not the engine starter. Then it hit me.
"Oh, hell no." I snapped my compact shut. "Don't tell me you don't know how to drive a Ferrari!"
"Uh... I've never driven one before," he said in a reluctant voice.
"You're an idiot. Get the fuck out. I'm driving."
"You're intoxicated."
I scoffed. "You're more likely to crash the car than I would, babe."
I got out of the car, striding towards the driver's seat and practically had to haul him out of the damn car. I let out an exasperated breath, shaking my head as I watched him gingerly enter the passenger seat.
"Don't step on my stuff."
I caught him roll his eyes as he pushed them away with a kick. I glared at him as I started the engine, shifting the gear into manual. As I sped off, that urge to do something grew and became harder to resist as I stepped on the accelerator.
Rick was clutching the dashboard while I flicked a button, letting the roof slide back and embracing the cold night air as my hair whipped around me.
"Slow down!" Rick yelled over the engine roaring like a beast.
I smirked and shifted gears, pushing the engine further.
"Angel!"
"Yeah!"
"Slow down!"
"Okay!"
I yanked at the emergency break and swerved the steering wheel to the side, causing the car to make a perfect 360.
"You fucking bitch!" he screamed as he held on for dear life.
I cracked up. "Pussy."
I eased the car back on the road, weaving through other vehicles as I sped past them. Eventually, I came to a halt at a red light, the tires screeching on the road. I glanced at Rick as he panted while I chuckled at his disheveled state and tied my hair in a ponytail with the scrunchie on my wrist. I took my pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lit one up, taking a long drag and blowing out the smoke in a long stream.
"Are you suicidal?!" Rick suddenly screamed.
"Obviously," I muttered dryly, taking a tube of red lipstick out of my makeup kit and coating my pale lips as I used the rearview mirror to guide me.
He was staring at me again. I ignored him and went on putting mascara over my eyelashes, my dilated pupils becoming more apparent. The light turned green and I sped off, throwing my makeup kit on his lap.
For once, he was quiet and I turned on the stereo, the soft hum of the piano sonata I had been listening to earlier filling the silence as I drove in a steady speed, the city lights passing by us.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" I found myself saying. I glanced at him, seeing him furrowing his brows. "The freedom. It's the most exhilarating drug there is. You only need to step out of the artificial boundaries you put yourself in to feel it. It's wonderful."
I leaned back, an arm hanging over the car door while I drove with one hand, taking one drag from my cigarette after another.
"Most people fear it. Scared of losing themselves. Letting go," I went on. "Life offers us many things. Pain. Suffering. Joy. Such things are inexpensive. The most significant one that not many people appreciate is freedom but the unfortunate fact is, we don't need to be shoved in a jail cell to lose it. We ourselves take away our freedom because of the misguided belief that freedom is ruled by written and artificial laws. It doesn't have to be that way though but too bad because most people fear to the thought of being limitless."
I flicked off the ashes of my cigarette and sighed. I was rambling but I either voiced out my thoughts or let them linger in my head and fuck me up even more.
I caught sight of a gas station ahead of us and I headed for it.
"Fill up the tank. I need to take a piss," I said as I got out of the car.
My high was slowly subsiding and I was craving for more but I fought it. Not only did I not have the money but I just suffered from a bad trip. That was practically the universe yelling at me to slow the fuck down.
When I went back to the car, Rick handed me a bottle of water, ordering me to drink it. I rolled my eyes and chugged the damn thing, hissing as it burned its way down my throat but I welcomed the freezing cold as it filled my empty stomach.
We set back on the road and I didn't know if Rick noticed it but we were far from home. I didn't want to go home. I hated being stuck in that cube I called my room and have to be alone with my demons lurking in the shadows. More than ever, I wanted nothing more than to leave this piece of shit of a reality filled with pain and suffering that I constantly inflicted on everyone I touched.
"Where are we going?" Rick finally asked.
I smiled. "New York."