UNFAMOUS [BOOK ONE] (A Wattpad 'Featured Story')

Ch. 24 | House Party

The air is sweet and sticky, laced with the nose crinkling scents of body odour, various alcoholic beverages, and smoke from cigarettes and shisha. The deeper we delve into the party, the stronger the inquisitive scent of cannabis is, diluted every now and then by a person drenched in cologne or perfume to salvage your lungs for a moment. Every dorm room on Jade's floor is part of the adulterated atmosphere. Everywhere I look I am surrounded by beautiful girls and some equally beautiful men. I am mesmerised by the way they slink and glide around each other with an air of pre-eminence in their swagger, each one dressed immaculately in designer clothing (home-grown designers included in the mix) and accessories, equipped with the finest hairstyles money can buy. I feel like I'm trapped in one of those fabulous American teenage dramas where practically everyone is at least a 7 out of 10, and I'm trying my best not to look star struck. So many Unfamous 'legends' are milling around me, making me want imitate them to try and capture a piece of their cool so that they will assume that I am meant to be here. These are the exact bunch that I need to make fall in love with me and claim to be my friends -yes, I realise how that sounds.  Sadly, all of this perfection belongs to Jade. I'm envious at how one boy can possess such a magnetic aura that people gravitate towards him and clamour to befriend him. He commands so much attention from so many important people, just for being him and nothing else; amazing! Why can't I do that? I frown to myself; I have the capacity to be just as remarkable as Jade, if not better, but for some reason people aren't taking to me as well as they should. I bet that if I had opted to use my voluptuous frame and taken a few Candy Mag pictures -becoming a self-proclaimed model -then I would've been where I wanted to be a while ago...probably without a boyfriend (not that I have one now), but 'one of them' none-the-less.

Carter strolls along at my side, flashing his notorious grin at the females (who swoon when they see him), and bumping fists, slapping hands and giving nods of acknowledgement to the guys. Nobody says anything to me and I don't say anything to them. Some people spared me an ephemeral glance to see who I was, and then I guess they figured I wasn't anyone worth greeting because they just carried on about their business. I recognise a few of the faces, but when I make eye contact with them in the hopes that they will make me feel that there is a place for me here, their expressions register blank as if they do not have the slightest recollection of me. Am I still so forgettable? I hope that the girls and Ty are in here somewhere or will be here soon so I won't feel so alone anymore –Carter doesn't count as company.

"CAAAARTER!" an unfamiliar baritone sings from across the way. I spin 90 degrees to see who is so excited to see Carter, and then the most amazing thing happens. It's as if everything is happening in slow motion; everyone's attention diverts to where the voice had come from -the boys watching with contained jealousy that this person hadn't called to them with such enthusiasm and the girls smiling their best 'hey baby' smiles like glammed up robots, as if they were all programmed to desire this one person. The crowd parts like the Red Sea, making way for the owner of the voice. When I peek through the crowd I see that he has two stunning (and giggly) females attached to him.

Could it be? I know I'm being an uber loser, but if this is who I think it is, an introduction is absolutely necessary. As discreetly as I can, I loop my arm through Carter's and stand smiling pleasantly at his side. Carter's body jiggles from his silent laughter, he knows what I'm up to, but he snakes his arm around my waist anyway, right before the last of the crowd parts to make way for the living legacy that is Jade 'Holy Moses he's hot' Washington.

The moment he comes into view I know that it's him. The rumours are true; he reeks of perfection; a being more flawlessly designed than Nathaniel himself. This guy looks like what wet dreams are made of, so much so that my stomach clenches and shudders simply from admiring (vigorously gawking at) him . His skin is smooth, supple, and golden as if he'd been moulded out of a tub of Palmer's Cocoa Butter, with a shock of inky blue/black hair that flows like dark water past his shoulders. He smells brand new, like a pair of white on white Air Force Ones fresh out the box, with a hint of wild indulgence, tickling my senses in the worst way.  Oh how I long to be one of the throwaway groupies on his arm just so I can experience the twisted pleasure of being used and abused by him, just to say that I did. Gosh, he's heart-stopping!