twisted beautiful things

vii. drown

vii. insecurities

'our days are numbered, wired and i'm tired of it

i know you're trying 

but you'll never unravel me'

(sabrina claudio)

...

gianna

Amir is pathetic.

Honestly, I was having a good ass time at this lovely event, balancing a glass of wine and a plate of grapes in my hands, when I happened to pass Amir and Elsie, talking quietly at the edge of the dance floor.

"I see you've met Matt, have you?" She's asking him casually.

I stop walking to linger at the counter for a number of reasons.

She is drunk. And a mess. Her dress is stained with wine and her eyes are wild. Plus, Matthew is a friend of mine. Not one of those fake friends that are only 'friends' with me for clout, but a genuine, caring friend.

Also, I just love drama.

Sue me.So anyway, Amir looks like he'd seen a ghost as Elsie continues on talking about how handsome Matthew is and how Amir doesn't have to pretend.

My eyebrows raise. Well this is new.

Amir, gay? Hm. At least, that's what it seems like she is insinuating.

Interesting...

Amir looks like he is going to drop his plate of desserts- really, how he can eat all that and still look like a shrimp is beyond me-and I smirk a bit to myself.

Elsie has literally left him unhinged as he stalks away coldly, nose in the air.

Well, this is an interesting new development.

Honestly, Amir is a genuine coward for not coming out. Like, it's not that hard. Matthew's been out of the closet for a while now, and he loves it.

And actually, I love the idea of Matt and Amir together.

Good, rich Amir Bukhari and poor, humble, hardworking Matthew Pierce. A match made on a TV screen.

And well, I love a good plot twist.

So I feel my red lipstick smile twist into a smirk as a small plot forms in my head to stir up some drama.

Things have been getting a little boring around here, I think.

...

I spend the rest of my miserable night at the bar, listening into conversations.

One of my favorite pastimes.

It's like-these people think they are being so sneaky.

They're not.

It's obvious that the bartender and the lady in the red dress next to me have a thing going on, even though she wears a giant, very expensive, very gouche ring on her finger.

It's obvious that the man on my left is broke, just by the way he is boasting about the things he is going to buy.

A group of ladies farther along the bar have their heads bent together, excited whispers rising between them.

Oh, I love this.

I glance around the ballroom, searching for a nice boy to lead on. Automatically, my eyes find Julian, but his eyes are only for Novella. Phooey.