We were at the Chanel store because I had insisted we go there first. After all, Chanel was my personal favorite.
"Why do you like Chanel so much? Yves Saint Laurent is better," Tiffany remarked, a hint of challenge in her voice.
"Back off, Tiff. We don't have the same taste. Mine is superior, and you're welcome," I retorted, not missing a beat.
"Ouch, that hurts!" she exclaimed, feigning offense.
"I don't have any comments about Chanel. Porscha is clearly obsessed with it," Vanessa chimed in, her tone indifferent as always.
"As for me, I don't have any favorites," Jessica added, trying to stay out of the fashion debate.
"We all knew that when you made out with two guys at the same time in the nightclub," I quipped, causing Jessica to blush.
"That's offensive!" Jessica protested, but her smile betrayed her amusement.
"Speaking of nightclubs, why don't we hit one tonight?" Vanessa suggested, changing the subject.
"I'm up for that," Tiffany agreed.
"Count me in," Jessica said, her enthusiasm evident.
"You know I'm not one to kill the vibe," I added. The girls cheered in excitement.
"Let's go!" They exclaimed.
"But I won't let you guys leave until I finish my shopping," I warned, and their smiles instantly faded. After all, shopping was a serious business, and I wasn't about to rush it for anything.
—
As the queen bee of University of Beverly Vale, my outfit had to be the best. I chose a stunning Chanel mini dress, its fabric shimmering with every movement. The dress was a deep midnight blue, hugging my curves perfectly and ending just above my knees. Paired with sky-high black stilettos and a matching Chanel clutch, I was the epitome of chic and sophistication. My golden curls were styled into loose waves, and my makeup was dramatic, with smoky eyes and glossy pink lips.
Tiffany, always the fashionista, wore a trendy Yves Saint Laurent jumpsuit. It was a bold red color, cinched at the waist, and paired with strappy gold heels. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her makeup was tastefully done with a red lip to match her outfit.
Jessica, the gossip queen, opted for a playful Dior skater dress. The dress was a soft lavender color with a flirty skirt that swished as she moved. She paired it with silver pumps and a matching clutch. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and her makeup was soft and natural.
Vanessa, my second-in-command, chose a classic black Versace bodycon dress. The dress clung to her figure, highlighting her athletic build. She paired it with black ankle boots and a simple clutch. Her hair was styled in a sleek bob, and her makeup was minimalistic, with a bold red lip adding a pop of color.
As we stepped into the nightclub, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. We were a sight to behold, each of us showcasing our unique styles. But as the queen, my outfit was undoubtedly the best, setting the tone for the evening and ensuring that all eyes were on me.
—
Jessica was already drunk, Vanessa was still holding up, Tiffany was slightly tipsy, and I felt like I was about to pass out.
"Where's Jess?" I asked Vanessa, leaning in close to be heard over the music.
"I don't know, probably making out with some guys already," she replied nonchalantly.
I rolled my eyes. That was Jessica, always the flirt and the gossip queen.
"Hey guys! Let's go dance!" Tiffany suggested, her voice slightly slurred.
"I don't dance, that's gross," Vanessa disagreed, her expression unimpressed.
"You're really a bore, you know," Tiff retorted, rolling her eyes.
"I'm in!" I chimed in, ready for some fun.
I was about to head towards the dance floor when everything suddenly turned black. Damn, I had passed out.
—
I woke up with a throbbing headache, a harsh reminder of my drunken escapades from the previous night.
"Wait, what the hell?" I muttered, looking around in confusion.
"This isn't my damn room!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the unfamiliar space.
I leaped out of bed and made a beeline for the mirror.
"Why do I look like this? My hair - oh my gosh! Where the hell am I?!" I exclaimed, my reflection confirming my worst fears.
I jumped as the door opened, and a man walked in.
"You're awake," a deep voice said.
I spun around to face him, my heart pounding in my chest.
I raised an eyebrow before blurting out, "And who the hell are you? Are you a kidnapper? A thief? A murderer? Oh my god, I need to call 911! Where's my phone?!"
"You better calm down, Seren," he said, and I froze. Only my brother called me "Seren".
"Who the hell are you? Are you a stalker?" I demanded, backing away.
I grabbed a pillow as he stepped forward.
"Stay away from me, or I'll kill you," I threatened, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
He put his hands up in surrender.
"Oh, I didn't know my friend's sister was a killer," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Wait - what?" I stammered, completely thrown off.
"I think I'll tell your brother that you didn't attend your morning class," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
Suddenly, it clicked. He was one of my brother's friends. And I had missed class. Great, i'm doomed.
—