I Hate My Brother (editing!)

16.

"Good luck, bunny! We should probably find someone for Meow over there." Cass laughs, thankfully without Ally hearing since she's a few steps ahead of us otherwise we both would've gotten a smack to our heads.

———
The inside, like you pictured, is humongous, exquisite and well, luxurious. Of course, like every other mansion in all movies, there is a giant chandelier right in the center of the foyer welcoming you. Except now, it's switched off, replaced by automatic flickering orange lamps.

I'm guessing and crossing fingers that their family aren't home. Because if I were to walk in to my own house being littered with practically creatures of all kind, I'm certain I'll scream bloody murder.

The party is now at its peak since the three of us were relatively late due to the dress incident. Shockingly, Ally doesn't seems to have a hard time fitting in as she rapidly relaxes and is back to her smiley self once we weave into the crowd. The foyer itself is already big enough, or at least what we're used to as a makeshift dance floor in other house parties. Here? It's only just the foyer.

We move on forward to where we assume the living hall is supposed to be, seeing as it is a much larger space other than missing furniture. There, with a giant curved screen TV hanging on the wall, is exactly where the dancing is supposed to be. It's pretty dark all around though as the only lights illuminating the room are the small scary lamps and the occasional brightness coming from the TV which's simultaneously responsible for playing the music.

Trust Carson to be playing Soundcloud mixes.

"Are we going to find the guys or what?" Cass raises her voice louder so I can hear her.

"Are you crazy? Of course not!" I declare, smiling slyly. Oh, tell me God, where else will it be more appropriate than here for my rules to apply?

Have I ever mentioned my specific set of rules?

Rule no. 1: I don't date.
Well not like as if I'll magically start dating tonight, so that's out the freaking window.

Rule no. 2: I don't sleep with friends. (Or anyone that I'll end up seeing often)
This is perfect. We're in a costume party! Hell, I don't think I'll want to know how that man bleeding in the face by a drill looks like without all that make-up.

Rule no. 3: No moaning of names during the act itself.
After having been with a couple of one-night-stands, I know better now that it'll be only smart to not leave any trail of hints to remind you of who you slept with last night.

And the goal here? Is not to develop feelings. No-strings-attached sex, that's what it fucking is.

Trust me. Friends with benefits don't ever work. One party always ends up destroying it by falling for the other. This is why I've been so insistent of sleeping with strangers, or at least people whom I won't coincidentally bump into in any way.

"Alrighty! Let's go find some drinks to get the party started!"

———
"Cue the fifteenth missed call," I say with an eyeroll. The guys have been bombing my phone with texts and calls, apparently trying to find us since they've spotted my car outside but not our bodies.

Lucky for us but unlucky for them, this mansion is big enough for us to play a game of hide and seek. We've been constantly on the move for an hour now, an effort to avoid running into any of the four. Also, none of them have any clue what we're dressed up as either; so finding three girls in costumes camouflaged in a flood of people surely isn't going to be easy for the seekers.

After getting our drinks to start off the party with, Ally got all excited to beer-pong that she literally dragged us to the table and demanded spots despite a few others already waiting for their turns. Like the gentlemen they are though, of course they'll let the two alluring ladies skip the queue. Ally and Cass then partnered up— playing against a traffic light and a spandax Spiderman, while I stand nearby one of the many refreshments table to endlessly refill my shotglass of vodka.