The Ugly Side of Beauty

Chapter Fifteen: Darkness

"What's wrong, Lorelei?"

"Is the movie bad?"

"Did someone kick you out?"

I shook my head and smiled. "Bathroom break," I called out. It did no good to ignore them when they make up things, because then they can post anything and whatever you say afterwards will just look like denial. They laughed and I headed over to the loos. There were volunteers and security guards everywhere so I felt pretty safe. 

Then where there was no light, Archer Brooks slammed me into a wall, and I opened my mouth to scream but he clammed my mouth shut with one heated palm. Archer, with his dashing good looks and high end profile, was the most eligible bachelor of the year. His socialite status was higher than even Paris Hilton's back when she was at her most popular. But he was famous as a player, and my pulse quickened under him. 

"Hey, Lore," he chuckled, sounding drunk. Or was he high? "You know," he touched my face and I flinched. "You're so beautiful. Like porcelain." He leaned in and kissed my forehead and I turned away, struggling in his grip.

"Let me go!" I ordered. I shoved him back and ran, hearing his laughter ring out behind me. I went back into the premier hall, smoothing a hand over my hair to check that it was still in place, and excused my way back to my seat. Harper was making a fool out of herself there, yelling and laughing with the people behind her. Some shot her death glares and others--the older ones like Morgan Freeman and Tom Hanks--looked indulgent and amused. 

I sat and tried to focus on the movie. I reached down to unstrap my heels so that I could be comfortable since the movie would take a while, and something fell out from my collar. Huh? I picked it up, staring at it in completely confusion, then understanding dawned on me. 

Archer Brooks must have slipped it under my dress collar when he pressed me against the wall. It was a tiny plastic packet of white powder, and I had a bad feeling it was what Harper had been taking. Before I could figure out what to do with it, Harper's hand snatched it from me. 

"Well, well, well," she smirked. "Miss Goody-two-shoes with the loot. I approve."

I held up my hands in a surrender. "It's not mine, it's Archer Brooks's. Take it, I don't want it."

Her baby blue eyes lit up and sparkled like a kid on Christmas morning. "Aw, Lore, you're the best."

After the premier, my parents left me with a bodyguard and let me go to the after party, where everyone let their hair down and danced. Soon, I got bored and followed my bodyguard home.

The next day, the headlines on the news was not about the movie. 

HARPER DOULAIR DEATH BY OVERDOSE

I stayed home from school that day, freaked out and vomiting, wearing myself down into a fever. I shouldn't have given her that last packet. It was all my fault. She wouldn't have OD'ed if I didn't give her that last pack. Someone was dead because of me. Harper. I leaned over my bed, grabbed the basin and vomited again. 

My parents were worried and called the doctor, and in my feverish delirium, I told the doctor everything. 

The doctor, out of some sense of responsibility went to inform the police, and they questioned me like there was no tomorrow. 

"I swear," I said through gritted teeth. "It wasn't mine. I never did drugs. I would never jeopardize my career like that. Harper was on something, and I gave her extra. I shouldn't have. I should have just thrown it away but I didn't want to call attention to us and what she was doing."

The entire incident died down quickly when Archer's influence shut things up effectively, but by then my agency had a tainted name, and for months I couldn't book a job. Nate tried to cheer me up, but sweet though he was, he didn't understand. He didn't understand the pain of guilt.