Jake's grip is firm on my hand and we are making our way down the carpeted hall and as soft as his touch is there's and element of strength in his grip on me. As if I belong to him but only in the nicest way.
"I'm not entirely sure but I think it's either room 412 or 422" he says looking at the gold embossed numbers on the shiny brown doors. A loud rhythmic bass sound is becoming more and more evident the further down the hallway w we walk.
"I suppose we should just follow the music" I said smiling, I let go of his grip and begin to flutter in a fairy like dance in the direction of the music, past room 412 and along the way to room 422. This is what Jake had done to me. In that hallway, with him, I wasn't scared of cameras, reporters, or people looking at the doorways and seeing me act so "unconventional". I didn't care if they thought I was weird. Jake thought I was lovely, and that was enough.
I felt him laugh behind me and then come alongside to grip my waist with a smile as we reached the door. Jake pressed the doorbell and I assumed the position of the happy girlfriend, ready with a smile at his waist, both to make him and me look good. As loud as the music was the door swung open really quickly , and I was a greeted with a pair of inquisitive but cloudy brown eyes under a soft mop of carefully strewn apart silky black hair.
"Enzo" his voice said readily, his hands leaning solely towards me. As if Jake's descriptions of his new girlfriend had rendered him so curious he couldn't be bothered wasting any time in even greeting Jake. He had to investigate now.
"Katherine" I said with a smile, laughing slightly along with Jake. After a seemingly long and slightly squinted glance at me Enzo's curiosity seemed to have been sated and he turned his attention to the person he knew with a smile.
"Jake! He said energetically. It's been ages. Weeks man! Come in before you die of boredom'"
Jake hadn't told me much about his relationship with Enzo. He'd said they were acquaintances, but the warmth Enzo used to greet him added to the authority he felt he'd had to judge me, made me think that there was possibly a hell of a lot more to the story.
As soon as we walked in my lungs were choked by different clouds of different smokes. Clearly there were different herbs and different substances at play here, I should have guessed from the clouds in Enzo's eyes. We were in a room containing a fridge, a stove, a breakfast counter and some living room furniture leading up to a balcony with what looked like a pretty awesome view, both the doors were open, and you'd think that would take away the intensity of the smell of the smoke – sadly it didn't. It was evident that this apartment either belonged to a very broke adult or a semi - privileged student. And even though Jake was here with me I was pretty scared. When he said we were going to a party I assumed it would be a normal, clean cut , high school party. I get weeds and drugs and herbs are a thing, but not in public, not for people like us, in a world where one blurry picture can undo years of hard work and render you unemployable...or worse only employable in D grade horror films about Irish mythical creatures. But how would I look if I told Jake I wanted to leave? He had so few friends here in L.A , I would look like a total unsupportive bitch if I asked to leave before meeting or even trying to know any of them just to save myself.
At this point Enzo was talking. Slurred words in a baritone voice. I wasn't really paying attention but a few words or rather names stuck out "Emma...Kaylee...Bitch". Wow. I guess Enzo wasn't a fan of most women.
I had been so focused on the various smells and drug paraphernalia that I hadn't taken in the other people around. There were people dotted around the apartment and on the balcony, swigging from vodka bottles and red plastic cups and for a nice change paying absolutely no attention to me. And they all looked all...well...a bit disheveled. Not entirely made up, as if they were too focused on other highs to care whether all their buttons were done up or if their hair had been brushed completely down or if they had remembered to eat dinner.
YOU ARE READING
Stolen Images✔️Teen Fiction
Vanessa Du Preez and Katherine Sparks couldn't be more different. With one known and loved by millions around the world and the other often only in the company of her camera and her little brother. But slowly, the two women's stories are pulled tog...