The following Friday Night, Parker, Luciana and I are spread across Parker's suite bathroom in a mess of Dior makeup and glitter, mixing up Four Lokos and Grey Goose. I'm making my face over- candy flossing my features, streaming petal pink across my cheeks, my eyelids, slashing it across my pouty adolescent lips.

Parker has her floral-printed Orla Kiely makeup bag in her lap and a Fenty neon green liner in hand, trying her best to trace the outline of the neon green smokey eye she has done on herself. Due to the lethal combination of alcohol, her coordination with the liner is shaky as best.

"What do you think?" Parker asks, turning to me.

I widen my eyes at the misshapen eye-liner and cackle, "It looks like you have a penis reaching out of your eye."

"What?" Parker frowns at her reflection in the mirror and wipes her eye with a Kleenex.

"Here, let me help you." I pour some La Mer cleansing oil onto a piece of cotton and scooch across the bathroom sink. I fold the cloth in half and clean up the line, humming to Luciana's tunes playing loudly on her opened Macbook. Luciana's playlist is a mixture of hard-trap and rap music, crooning out a song by The Weeknd, something about popping ass and doing drugs, as I re-apply concealer on Parker's face and breathe my Four Loko and Vodka laden breath into her nose.

"There you go," I grin. Parker smiles nervously as I step back, Luciana watches this exchange from the corner of her eye, mouth set so tight it almost disappears into a line.

"Shouldn't have taken the first shot," Parker grumbles as she sips the sickly sweet mixture of Four Loko, otherwise known as Devil in a Can, and vodka and winces at the kool-aid acidic taste. "Should we do gems on our cheekbones, to go with our highlight?'

"Oh my God, yes!"

Parker and I spend the next hour gluing Swarovski gems onto our cheekbones, sharpening our contour and matching our neon makeup to each other since we're wearing similar neon Supreme LV bikinis in colors of bright green and hot pink. To go with our bikinis, we decided on matching Alexander Wang joggers that have cool flames licking up from the hem. Along the side of the velvety track pants are these cool graphic designs going up the sides and I pair them with these neon Balenciaga sneakers that have orange and pink stripes going up to them.

"Cute," Luciana says, her smile borders on mocking as she acknowledges Parker and me in our matching outfits.

"Yeah, Amory decided it'd be cute to do a Spring-Breakers vibe."

"And Parker wanted to match," I add teasingly as I bring my own whiskey glass full of Four Loko and peer at Parker through my dark fluttery lashes. Parker blushes at my comment under the thick smear of foundation, concealer, blush, and neon shadow. Her ice-blonde hair has been tightly dutch-braided across his head with neon green extensions; her skin is tanner and bronzer than ever.

"Hmm," is all Luciana could say as she wiggles her slim body into an all-leather bodysuit with cutouts going up all her flat abdomen. Her caramel skin glitters with the golden body oil she lathers up previously. I don't miss the way Luciana eyes the interaction with Parker and me. I don't miss the way she sizes me up, looking at the way my boobs sit in my bikini top. I don't miss the way the hate smolders in her gaze.

She hates how her position has changed in the Elite, how Parker's no longer at her beck and call, how Orson's no longer her go-to fuckbuddy. Most importantly, she hated how I've seeped into every one of those roles, how her friends which she has introduced me to are now officially my friends.

I smirk back at her, eating it up. I remind myself of how she's trying her hardest to take me down, to win back her spot by digging for information on me. The resentment is delicious and it fuels me, creating a warm underneath my bones that's akin to alcohol in my system.

"Let's finish our shots!" Parker declares, cutting through the thick tension between Luciana and me by brandishing the Grey Goose bottle, which is almost two-thirds empty. She gulps down two shots of Grey Goose and chases it with a half-empty can of Four Loko before grimacing.

"Oh my God, that's so disgusting."

I laugh at her, "So do it again."

"What about you?" she jabs the bottle into my face, "You barely been drinking!"

"Okay, okay!"

We all take two mouthfuls of the Grey Goose with Luciana finishing the last of it and chasing it with the remainder of the Four Lokos cans. The cans are distributed over Parker's room, which just so happens to be the Azure Room, a really beautiful room in baby blue and idyllic paints, gilded with gold and hand-carved beds.

"Hey Parker, can you help me with my space buns?" Luciana asks ever-so-sweetly from the bathroom.

"Sure!"

Parker heads off to the bathroom. I pretend to make myself busy by fixing my two pigtails in the suite's long golden mirror as the door closes behind Parker and I instantly creep over to the door to eavesdrop. After a pause, I hear a clatter of bathroom products being rattled, then later Luciana's speaking, the vehement clear in her tone.

"So Amory's your bestie now? You're wearing matching outfits together?"

I know having Luciana see Parker be buddy-buddy with me scars her. Months ago, Parker gallops obediently by Luciana's side, lackey under her mighty sway. Alliances made under years of friendship. I come in and just like that, I eradicate all of it.

I hear Parker's heavy sigh. "Luce, she's actually pretty cool. And you know that- you said that. The only reason why you're hating on her is that she's dating Orson now."

"She stole him from me!"

Then there's Parker's defensive, pissed-off reply that comes instantly, "He was never yours to begin with! Don't kid yourself. Orson never liked you like that. And it's not like Amory took him the minute you went off to Connecticut...you knew Orson was chasing Amory since August and them...just kind of happened."

"I just- I don't know," comes Luciana's terse reply, "I just have a bad feeling about her."

"Since when? You introduced her to us! You just don't like her because she's now dating Orson."

"Phineas agrees with me! He so thinks she's fishy too."

"Luce," comes Parker's warning tone, "You're being ridiculous. You're only this mad about her because of Orson. Let it go."

My heart beating fast in my chest, I quickly sprint away from the bathroom and shake wildly as I reach for Luciana's sequin fanny pack. I promptly open her bag and begin searching around for the gram of molly I know Luciana has bought from a dealer after our dinner at that Japanese restaurant. My hands bump against her wallet, her lip gloss, and then...a small baggie of yellowish-brown rocks, which confirms me the molly.

Bingo.

I hurriedly grab the vial I've hidden in a secret pocket that's been sewn under my joggers and pour the contents of the vial into Luciana's baggie. I pack Luciana's drugs back into her clutch underneath a mini bottle of Jack Daniels, where it belongs, and return to the mirror.

I'm reapplying a Dior lip gloss when the bathroom door promptly opens and Luciana and Parker come out; Luciana with her long lustrous dark hair tightly wound up in two buns upon her head, a golden chain with gold rhinestones sitting plainly like a crown.

"Ready to rumble?" I ask, putting my gloss into my black leather Valentino fanny pack across my slim hips.

Luciana smirks at me; she's staring me down, with a duel-at-dawn type glare. "More so than ever."

I smirk back and make sure a glint glitters in my stare. She seems unsettled by the smile I shoot her, but it wipes away and soon there's no worry furrowing on her face. Parker doesn't see this exchange. Instead, she starts to jump excitedly.

"Well, let's hit the road. Ultra, here we come!"

-

"We want shots! We want shots!"

Our group is yelling it together, pounding our hands on the circular glass table. The VIP usher for our section brings us a tray of fifty shots- mint green, neon, lined up like dominos. The music is almost too loud for me to think. The world of Ultra is sounds of bawdy, electric pop baby-doll vocals cut through with ear-shattering bass drops and visions of bright, psychedelic colours, glitters, and jewels, skin showing as clothes, leather mixed matched with denim-covered butts shaking in the air.

"MIAMI, YOU FUCKING SLUTS!" Hanif screams, raising his shot into a toast.

"Spring break!" The group whoops along and then I'm gulping down the drink, shuddering at the sickly bittersweet taste and the familiar burn that snakes down my throat. Parker screws her face up, gagging from the lethal combination of the shots Hanif forced her to consume and our pre-drink potion; Orson winces but he high-fives Hanif and Aidan, while Luciana is already reaching for another, plain tequila this time, with a side of salt and lime.

"Not here to play, huh, Santiago?" Phineas muses and laughs as she shoves the other tequila shot in my direction with a wicked smile.

"Bottoms up," Her lips curl, and I have a sudden image of raw meat shearing between her teeth, "Babe."

I won't back down. I'm not scared of Luciana. I remember the sprinkle of poison I add to her drugs and remind myself, really I have the upper-hand here.

"Bring it on," I raise my neck up, eyelids scorched with pink glitter and jewels. Gang fight, bitches, and you're getting front row.

And we started off as friends (well, fake friends, but still), can you believe it?

But instead of handing me the salt shaker to pour it onto my hand, she gestures Parker over and sprinkles it on her neck. She eyes me, lips pursed expectantly. I roll my eyes. "Child's play," I mutter, and under the watchful eyes of all my friends, I lean over towards Parker and lick up along her collarbone before downing my shot.

Parker's whole face is a flaming tomato as soon as I think the shot down onto the table. I know why Luciana asked me to do that. She wants to see how deep I have Parker under my spell.

"What the hell, Luciana," Parker says as she wipes my saliva furiously off her neck.

"What's the deal, Holtz?" Luciana wonders in dry amusement, "What's up to your butt-crack?'

Parker opens her mouth to retort but she chooses to close her mouth. I touch her hand and squeeze it in comfort, "I think you're just too sober, how about we get some Sidecars?"

Parker nods and follows me to the bar. As we evade the crowd of Instagram models and It-Girls socializing across the VIP section, an elevated platform, so close to the stage we can feel the warmth of the insane light shown by the stage. In hidden pockets of privacy, I see people dipping their fingers into bags of molly or coke, and I'm surprised because it's barely eight p.m and it's way too early to drop.

"I don't get why she's being such a bitch," I sigh to Parker about Luciana, patting her shoulder as we wait by the corner of the bar, which is crowded and only has two bartenders to handle the drinks.

Parker bites her lip, "It's- I honestly think she's just being like this because...of Orson."

"She doesn't like that I'm with him."

"Well, yeah."

I roll my eyes, 'She'll get over it," I say, "Her and Orson were never serious; they were always just fuck-buddies."

We come back to the group with our Sidecars in hand, sipping slowly, getting a little bit tipsy as the night starts to get more intense. Even though Ultra Day One has been raging since two in the afternoon, the start is still wild with energy, going wild for the DJ pumping a deep, filthy bassline mixed with a popular radio song that gets people head-banging and living a glittery version of thug life.

"Can I have a sip?" Orson snakes a hand on my waist as I move the straw into my mouth. I giggle and nod as I hand him my glass.

He drinks it, I watch his Adam apple bob with the swallow, and soon we're dancing, bottoms grinding, Orson's hand sliding on my naked abdomen, playing with the string of my bikini until-

"Hey, guys! Let's join the crowd!" Luciana interrupts, grabbing my hand and dragging me over to the group of people amassing near the bar, twerking and gyrating to a remix trap version of The Chainsmokers.

I narrow my eyes at her clear attempt to get in the middle between Orson and I. But I don't get angry; I don't even let the flash of rage crossover my face. Instead, I play sweet and I let her drag Orson and me deeper into the crowd.

I let my body go in the crowd, I let it sway in between these two model-esque girls, me being so short amongst these 5'10 goddesses, not caring as my movements are languid, slow and naughty, a la Luciana, in stripper glamour mode. It catches Orson's attention and he brings me tight against him. As expected, I feel Luciana's canny slit eyes, and soon, she's dancing up close to him and spinning away; green strobe lights cutting through the dark. Orson laughs between us, feeling the competitive tension between Luciana and me, but then my gaze cuts into his, I pout my lips mockingly and obediently, he moves away from Luciana and I grab his hand away from her, pulling him wordlessly to the edge of the dance floor, my back finding some solid surface, his hands finding the curve of my hips, his lips finding mine.

The spotlights strobe across his face, neon blue washing the beautiful angles of his jaw, and soon, he's bringing me to our VIP table, pushing me down on the red booth. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down, locking him against me as our mouths hungrily roam over lips and skin and shoulders. Then the music changes again, something pulsating and euphoric. The DJ shouts in the distance, "Fuck it up!"

We break apart and Orson is grinning. He looks at the fancy Rolex on his wrist, and he whispers in my ear. "It's ten now, should we drop?"

I nod wordlessly- it's too loud to say anything in a space like this. Even in the dark, neon conundrum, I could see people chewing gum or sucking lollipops. Damn, so everyone is gonna be rolling tonight. This is gonna be intense.

"Wait, I wanna get Parker and Luciana," I yell in his ear over the din. "Lets' fucking roll together."

Orson nods as I grab Parker and wave Luciana over to the booth. Orson gathers the guys around. The DJ rallies by the front of the booth, mic in hand as he pumps his fist towards the crowd, frothing for a beat drop. "EVERYBODY, ARE YOU FUCKING READY?"

Orson reveals a bag full of pink, purple, and blue colored pills, all in different, fun shapes, like hearts or smiley faces. It's funny how much ecstasy looks like candy. The molly we usually take is the pure shit- hard yellow-brown rocks I know his dealer gets from Amsterdam. This is Molly in pill form, which means it is a lot stronger than the normal recommended dosage. I get nervous as I open my tongue and he drops it in my mouth before tossing one in his mouth.

I watch Luciana eyeing this with pure, unadulterated jealousy as her fingers dip into the baggie from her fanny pack. I smirk as her fingers mix her drugs with the poison. To seal the cherry on top, I use this to kiss Orson, our tongues slipping, sliding as our pills dissolve on our tongue.

And then, soon, it's all a waiting game on the come-up.

To explain to you how molly works, how the high works, the best analogy I can use is a rollercoaster. From the time you swallow the pill to when your roll starts, it feels like you're inching up to the sky slowly as the clock ticks by. It's a forty-minute incline to the very top and then you crash down in this euphoric, intense whirlwind of colours and sound.

Parker's troubles melt away as she comes up; she's now no longer frowning and pouting in the corner, instead, she sips from the water bottle we have on our table, making sure she keeps hydrated in this heated crowd.

"Fuck, I'm coming up," Parker laughs, swirling her lollipop in her tongue. "It's gonna hit soon, I feel."

"Same," Hanif grins at her, at us, chewing about three packs of gum. "When did we-"

"Ten-fifteen," Orson confirms for me; his eyes are already dilated, the blue in his gaze giving way to the black pupils. He's grinning at me so wildly; I grin back. "It's now almost ten fifty-five, which means it's gonna hit in-"

"Three—" Aidan screams, counting down with the DJ; Parker gives an eager laugh and jumps higher on her tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd. Phineas and Hanif bump each other in the chest, ready to mosh with the crowd.

"Two—" Most of the crowd has joined in the count. Orson comes to stand behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my head. I lean back into him and close my eyes, bracing myself for the beat to drop and my serotonin to explode over my head.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKERS BETTER BE READY TO JUMP!"

"One!" The scream reverberates through the room. Instantly, the pills release waves of stimulants into my blood and the music explodes into my face. I throw my hands into the air, joining the loud, seemingly endless scream. I could feel the molly opening my senses like it's a third eye or something. Fire shoots out from the stage, the heat washing us. The world has realigned to the music, everything—the flashing of the lights overhead, my breathing, my heartbeat, everyone's heartbeats—timed perfectly with the deep, insistent pulse of the bass.

I close my eyes, dazed, as the wave of drugs snaps through me. It's a razor-sharp rush, setting all my nerves afire. The sensation of MDMA pulsating through my veins is like I'm doing all the loops of a rollercoaster, creating a "rolling" type of high. Parker's screaming the words of the song; holding my hand from my side as we bop our heads to the beat.

"I'll be your DAYDREAM, I'll be your favourite thing!!" Parker sings in my face, Givenchy shades perched on her face like a boss.

"Wanna get on my shoulders?" Orson asks me by yelling in my ear over the noise. I nod, grinning wide. He bends down and I wrap my legs around his shoulders before he fully hoists me up. Soon, I'm six feet above, floating across the crowd as lights above me have a seizure in blue and purple. My hands are above my head and I feel like I'm on cloud nine.

"Amory, look here!" Hanif laughs, filming me on top of Orson's shoulders. I flash a middle finger at the camera and the sound that escapes me sounds like a laugh, so free and happy.

My happiness is momentarily ruined as I notice Luciana angrily glaring at Orson and I closeness. I don't let that worry me. It takes approximately six fours for the toxin to start failing her organs.

Her time is limited.

-