A dash of lip gloss. A spritz of perfume. An adjustment of a push-up bra.
I watch, while fixing my own makeup, as a curvaceous woman next to me is examining the roundness of her buttocks, asking her friend if she should get implants.
You really don't, honey. I think to myself, absentmindedly gawking at her supple, exposed thigh.
I focus on my reflection, the two shots I'd just taken hazing my vision a little bit. The way my silver sequined co-ord top and skirt catch the lights dazzles me. It's a fascination I inherited from my mom, who would gold-plate our entire driveway if she could. I sigh because I can't hide out here for the entire 4-minute dubstep track that knocks on my eardrums like an incessant old aunt.
As I leave my little feminine haven, I wince at the noise. But it all washes away when I see her.
Astrid, oddly enough, is dancing with her eyes closed and a pleasant smile on her face, a beautiful contradiction to the trashy ruckus of the DJ's atrocious playlist. She looks the way she'd normally dress in a sea of glitz and glam, but that's what I've always liked about her. When I felt like my world was spiralling out of control in the midst of all the shine and splendour of the Alpha lifestyle, she was my focal point so I wouldn't feel dizzy.
But I'd never dare to traverse beyond the line of friendship.
When we were younger, Astrid was more than candid about her many crushes. It was quite annoying to constantly hear her boy-crazed candour. So, I would quietly kiss this guy and that, all the boys she named, but it wasn't entirely out of jealousy. I just wanted to know what they had that I didn't.
Astrid caught me a couple of times, too, but in fear that she'd think lesser of me or call me a slut, I'd greatly exaggerate about how attracted I was to them and how I loved them so much. It was all utterly juvenile and pathetic.
When I left for college, it got easier. I actually had time to experiment and explore my sexuality and for once, my feelings for Astrid eased up. That is, until I returned after graduating and saw her strolling hand-in-hand around town with some guy I'd never seen before, and then it was high school all over again. I knew she'd never reciprocate my feelings and I could think of only one way to permanently end my inner torture.
And that was to accept the proposal that came from Midnight Shadow.
Astrid turns towards the bar, where the bartender shoots her a dirty look and grimaces at her rudely. That pretentious scumbag! I take a step forward to go castigate the vampire, when the familiar scent of jasmine saunters over.
"Princess," her voice is like a melodious purr. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
She tugs a corner of her plum lips to the side into a bewitching grin, and tucks a strand of white hair behind her heavily pierced ears.
"Valentina," I acknowledge her presence, while keeping an eye out on Astrid, who looks vexed but calm. "Tell me, why does my best friend still get treated like shit, despite everybody knowing exactly who she is to me?"
"Exactly?" she repeats the one word she knows she can twist. "I don't think everybody knows exactly how much she means to you." She takes a full lap around me and whispers into my ear, "but I do every time I've made you scream in pure bliss." Valentina's tongue lightly caresses the end of my ear lobe to which my body positively reacts.
Valentina de la Mort was my first female lover. We met when Astrid and I were still in high school, sneaking out every weekend to party at Oscura. Valentina took one look at me and knew right away that she had the remedy to cure my ailment. Something drew me to her. Maybe it was the danger of touching and kissing a vampire. Since then, the memories of our nights together are way too racy and indecent to even think about. You never forget your first.
"Don't tell me you're starting to have feelings for me," I cross my arms, lower my chin and flicker my eyes at her in a beguiling manner. Conversation with Valentina is always like a game of cat-and-mouse. You scratch here, I scratch there. It's probably the only way she can enjoy company after all these years of existence.
"Princess, you must think so highly of yourself," she playfully taunts. "My feelings died along with my humanity."
"Then you wouldn't mind telling your employees to treat Astrid with an ounce of decency."
And as I rebuke Valentina, I see Astrid's eyes light up at the tall, dark gentleman dressed in a leather jacket and dark jeans striding up to her. A pang of hurt pricks my heart, though I ought to be happy for her. The sooner she finds somebody, the sooner I can move on.
"Hmm, looks like the tigresse has caught someone's eye," Valentina observes much too pleased at the sight. "Want me to take your mind off of it, chérie?" Her finger lightly traces the side of my arm. It hitches my breath for a second.
Yeah, I might be pining after my best friend, but a girl has needs too.
I watch a bit longer, contemplating Valentina's offer. The man grabs Astrid's wrist and I almost shout 'hey asshole!' in the distance, but then he pulls her in and kisses her passionately.
"Oh-la-la," Valentina chimes in. "You sure you wanna stand here and watch?"
No, I don't want to stand here all night and watch this.
"Let's get out of here," I tell Valentina and we make our way towards the dark corners of the VIP.
YOU ARE READING
Sun & Moon
ChickLit"I'll have a whiskey and the lady will have a shot." A very tall man appears right beside me with a curly dark lock of hair resting above his brow that reminds me of Superman. His nose slopes down straight like a Grecian sculpture. His voice is cool...
