CAPO

Beginnings.

Arabella sighed, smiling at her bestfriend, "I'm sure it's nothing. What are you doing with your hair?" She asked, spritzing a few sprays of perfume on her opened chest.

Cleo smiled, "Leaving it like this," She said, motioning to her full, curly black hair. Arabella hummed, smiling as she made her way to her dresser, brushing through her hair. She tied it away from her face as Cleo pulled one of her reading chairs from the corner of her white room, sitting next to the girl.

Cleo's full brows wrung into a frown as she applied eyeshadow to Arabella's lid. "How's Marc?"

Arabella grinned, "He's okay. Work has just been hard on him, you know?"

"I know. Being an architect sounds like a horrible job," She snarked, making Arabella tsk at her. Cleo smiled, applying more eyeshadow to her bestfriends lid.

"Tell me you're not gonna spend every waking minute in this apartment for your break," She then said, pressing gently on Arabella's nose, signaling her to open her eyes.

"And what if I am?"

"Well, then Joy and I are gonna pull you out of here by your hair,"

Arabella laughed, turning to the mirror on her left side. Once she saw herself, she smiled widely. Her eyelids were sparkling with a light champagne glitter, and her eyelashes stood out far, making her brown eyes wider.

"Good?"

"Very good, thank you," She said, pressing a kiss on her friends cheek. Cleo hummed standing up and fluffing out her hair. She turned, pulling a pair of white heals from her bag. Arabella raised a curious brow as Cleo turned back to her, smiling mischievously.

She held the heals out to her, earning herself a shake of Arabella's head. Cleo tolled her eyes, "Don't make me put them on myself," She threatened, knowing how ticklish Arabella's feet were. Without another word of protest she stood and took them, shootingthe girl a glare as she put them on.

She was now a good five foot eight with the heals adding another five centimetre. She stood in front of Cleo, watching as the girls eyes scanned over before she smiled up at her, nodding.

Then, in less than five minutes the girls were out of the door. Arabella kissed the cats' foreheads before she left, making sure their food and water bowls were full. Arabella opted to take a taxi, but Cleo had other plans. She tugged her behind her, and Arabella yelped.

"We're walking, its around the corner,"

It wasn't around the corner.

Arabella felt like she had been walking for hours but in reality it was around ten minutes. Her calves ached and screamed at her to find a place to sit, but Cleo's steady hold on her hand didn't falter once.

Once they reached the bar, Arabella's legs gave out. Luckily she gripped onto the barstool, slipping into it. The music pumped loudly in her ears, red pink and purple lights flashed all around her and sweaty teen bodies grinded on eachother, drunk out of their minds. Without asking, Cleo ordered her favourite drink and one it came, shoved the vodka and lemonade into her hand.

Cleo and Arabella had this thing they did everytime they went out. Tilt their head to the left meant they were okay, to the right meant they needed to get out of here, rubbing their bicep meant that whoever they were talking to was incredibly creepy. They shared looks every now and again, and the other would nod to the occupied person.

So, Cleo kissed Arabella on the cheek and nodded before she left, making her way to the bathroom without her. Cleo was a regular user of marijuana, and so was Arabella. But she never smoked before she went out, she needed to be in the right head space.

Arabella sipped on her vodka, putting her palm over the opening as she looked around the club. It was a full house tonight and she felt strangely alone even though she could barely see the floor with the amount of people in the room.

Just as she took another sip, she felt a presence next to her. She turned, coming face to face with a redheaded boy. She raised a brow at him, making him raise one back in response.

"Can I buy you another?"

She laughed softly, taking in his appearance. She noticed how he wore jeans to a very well known club and then she looked around for a second, noticing the group of people behind them, eagerly watching them.

"How old are you?"

"Uh- why does that matter?"

She licked her lips, "Who wears jeans to a club where you have to pay thirty pounds for a shot?"

He sighed, "I'm seventeen,"

Arabella lifted her hand, waving him off, "Get out of my face," And he did. She took a big gulp from her drink, thankful she kept her hand over it the entire time she didn't drink from it.

Cleo returned, her eyes low and smile wide and hazy. "You okay?" She asked Arabella, leaning against the counter of the bar. She nodded, taking a sip from her drink, "I am. Are you?"

"Mhm. Let's go dance!"

"I'm not drunk enough," She laughed, quickly gulping the vodka down before she took Cleo's hands and followed behind her to the middle of the dance floor. It was times like these were Arabella would snap and she'd let go of everything, and she wouldn't think about Marcus or her parents or her work or anything, she would just be free.

And that's exactly what she looked like to him.

He sat against the wall far away from the dance floor, observing everyone as he played poker with his coworkers. He didn't pay much mind to the array of women in the nightclub, but when he saw her carefully walk onto the dance floor with a girl who was high out of her mind, he couldn't pull his eyes from her.

She started slow at first, laughing and closing her eyes. And then he found himself completely stunned by her. She quickened her movements and her hips swayed and when the light hit her just right, she looked fucking magical.

While Arabella was dancing, she felt eyes on her. She brushed it off because she was in a nightclub and people were probably staring at her as they usually did. But something told her to stop, to look for the eyes, to find out who it was. So she did. She looked around to her left. Nothing. Then she turned her head to her right and then she saw him.

Legs spread wide and whiskey glass held by strong hands and only then could she see the tattoos on his neck and hands and she swallowed, her eyes skimming over his seated figure. Just then, he raised his glass and took two big gulps of what she assumed was whiskey, and then he stood, lighting a cigarette and taking his coat from where it hung over a chair.

Her cheeks burned with a drunk blush as he walked in her direction and in the moments of chaos, Arabella found peace in sky blue eyes. He shrugged his coat on, his eyes never leaving hers. Then when he passed by her, he smirked, and Arabella's stomach erupted with butterflies.

He swiftly closed the club door behind him and then she turned, spotting Cleo dancing with a boy and she then decided that she deserved to have fun, to get drunk. So, she did.