"Okay, explain. Because I haven't been this confused since I found out girls have periods and boys don't have shit. Let's go." Sitting primly on the gold-sheet bed of Jac Lexington's MGM suite, Benny Costa clasped her hands over her crossed knees expectantly whilst Veronica Conrad - who was far too busy with her nose in her iPhone - started to sit and made a squeal as her butt found air rather than the bed.

Sucking in a huge, dramatic breath, Jared Hayward began to monologue. "Let me paint the picture for my forlorn audience; Jac's beloved parents are starting a reality show, hence the reason why there is no champagne or our favorite party favors on the menu. I escaped military school in the nick of time to save her from getting hit by a camera - and I am fully aware she could have saved herself. I promise I'm a womanist-"

"Ooh, a reality show?" Veronica purred, practically tossing her phone harshly to the rose red-carpeted floor. "Like the Kardashians? Jac, I am totally your BFF now. I can make for a flawless Kim K, trust me."

Ditching the bed, Veronica lounged like a lavish kitten on the floor instead, noticeably covered up in a long black Ricky Owens turtleneck dress that she had to have borrowed from Benny and orange-red hair in a perfect high ponytail down her back.

Jac wondered if her strange wardrobe choice was due to all the slander she was getting online for her sex tape.

The group of four were all lounging about in the spacious MGM mansion suite rented out for the 'calm before the storm.' With a large bedroom big enough to fit a king-sized, golden-sheet bed, a walk-in mirror closet and a sectioned off dining room with the best view of the Las Vegas strip, it was almost impossible to feel suffocated with even five people in the room.

Not to mention the bathroom might as well have been a whole other suite in itself.

Even from the third floor of the lavish MGM Mansion, they could hear the thumping of the music - Hyuna's 'Babe' - ricocheting from the ballroom. The celebrity DJ, Calvin Harris, was busy spinning tunes while he warmed up and although the party hadn't exactly started yet, there were limousines and sports cars already filing into the broad, circular driveway vying for VIP spots.

According to Jac's meticulous planning, they had exactly two hours before the party officially started. Two hours which had been spared to Jared Hayward after he had informed them he had news to spill. Thus, instead of watching the setup of the luxurious party or at least going out for brunch with Seth Montador, Chris Edwards, and all the incoming rich kids so that they wouldn't be partying on empty bellies, they had all decided to suck in every word of gossip Jared had to give and marinate on it under the gist that they absolutely had to get ready for the party now - and Jared had to be there to give them opinions on their apparel, of course.

Jac couldn't help but feel slightly bored, the only feeling she could seem to manage, as she assessed her  evening look in the brightly-lit bathroom; light, spring makeup to match her black, floral ERDEM silk gown that wasn't exactly extravagant but Jac had been too drained to wear anything else. She was even wearing a pair of baby pink Valentino heels that she hadn't bought just for the party but had actually owned since sophomore year.

Veronica had already pointed them out but she didn't care.

"Damn, Jac, I am so sorry. That paparazzi storm was really intense." Benny said as Jac turned dully towards her friends speckling the bedroom like poised actors in a music video; Benny on the bed, Jared leaning on the golden walls adjusting his new black Allsaints beanie that he'd bought with the money from the old man who'd given him a ride, and Veronica on the floor typing furiously away on her phone.

Jac didn't even feel a sense of shame at Benny's apology. She just felt nothing, as if all the emotion had been sucked out of her back at the Starbucks coffee shop.

Feeling nothing certainly wasn't a feeling a birthday girl was to have but she couldn't help it.

"Hey, that's not all.  Does anyone want to know how I escaped? It was halfway brilliant, halfway stupid but completely epic." Jared piped up, a grin spreading on his face that looked so happy Jac wished she could relate.

Had he smiled that wide when he used to live and breathe Beverly Hills?

Jac was envious, nonetheless -  and maybe even a little hurt from his rejection still.  "Sure, give me more info to tell the police." She deadpanned but couldn't crack a grin of her own to save herself and Jared gave her a knowing look that pierced her soul.

"I'd love to hear all about it, actually," Veronica exclaimed, finally getting off the floor and slinking over to where Benny sat on the edge of the bed, directly in front of the military school escapee. "I must say, Jared. With the way you're looking this afternoon, I'd think it was my birthday."

"Oh, look, someone that genuinely cares without being a snitch." Jared said in a faux robotic tone, flashing another one of his annoying smiles that made Jac oddly wish he was hers, and not in the user kind of way - but as quickly as the thought came, it wasn't replaced with ocean blue eyes, but completely and utterly nothing.

With a sigh, Jac stalked off to the bathroom again. This time, closing the door as Jared started his rendition of his 'half-brilliant-half-stupid' escape. Shutting the door did nothing to muffle the music from the ballroom that had switched to a remix of Calvin's new hit 'Feels' and she pressed her back against the smooth, polished, wooden door.

She closed her eyes, took deep breaths, and waited for some kind of feeling.

Anything.

Longing.

Tears.

Anything.

However, all she could come up with was an empty pit in her stomach. Almost as if she were all cried out from sobbing into Jared's hug that made her want to claw at her throat until she didn't exist.

She could barely even build up emotion for her own anticipated birthday party, let alone her parents' fiasco or even all the lies she was still holding on to. What was wrong with her?

At that moment, her phone vibrated from the glossy, mahogany counter she'd carelessly tossed it on earlier, the vibration nearly sending it over the edge but Jac caught it before it could clatter to the tiled floor.

Glaring at her phone, she thought the recent incoming text would spark something within her at least but it failed.

'If you give me a chance to love you, I could love you better than the love he baited.

If you let me into your heart, I could undo all the damage he has created.

Oh, green-eyed forest, let me in.

I don't want to cut you down when you're already on fire.'

'Everybody lies,' she reminded herself, almost as if it were some kind of prayer that could keep her safe. Safe from all the lies. Maybe that was why she felt so desolate. For once, she was safe.

So safe that even the impending fear of being alone was no match for her because she couldn't feel anything. 'Ha, take that, bellboy!'

She was so safe that not even some random, creepy-but-very-poetic, stranger couldn't penetrate the walls she was hiding behind, the walls that were made out of regrets, anger, and pain that she no longer had to feel inside because she'd turned into an outward shield.

Thinking of her emptiness that way made her feel like a badass.

It made her feel one thing; good.

At least for the time being.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, what do you mean Erika was with you? Erika as in Erika Felix?" She suddenly heard Benny Costa shout.

"Oh-oh-oh my God." Veronica gasped, her odd shock contrasting with her purring, sex appeal.

Proud of her emptiness, Jac sauntered back into the bedroom, pretending to be engrossed in her phone as she said, "What about Erika?"

Benny was standing on the bed, her stylish colorful mink-fur Fendi sandals sinking into the soft mattress as she covered her matte purple Tom Ford lips. "Erika, our old bitch, Erika, is in fucking military school!" She exclaimed. "I cannot believe what I'm hearing!"

"Well, you're hearing it." Jared said nonchalantly, clearly unaware of the importance of his news. "I was pretty surprised to see her there. You guys know what she was in for?"

"Murder." Jac answered. "On a yacht."

Veronica burst out laughing. "Oh my God, I have to tell Chris! He's gonna love this!" Hopping off the bed, she started for the door but in a flash, Benny was on her, dragging her by her turtleneck back into the room before she could step an inch into the hallway.

"Fuck no! We are not telling Chris!"

"Why not?"

"Because he gets off on Erika's pain?" Jac suggested, suddenly disgusted with her emptiness all over again. Could she at least have some emotion for her ex friend who was currently slumming it up in military school?

Apparently not.

Sure, Erika had been a complete bitch but she had always been decent to Jac. She had been Jac's clear, sane thoughts in the midst of drowning in Damon - even when Jac hadn't exactly listened. She had been the girl who had eagerly become her friend, declaring they were going to rule the world together - just the two of them until Benny, Veronica, and Paisely twaddled along. Erika was a shitty friend to most but had been one of Jac's best friends.

Who could frequently be a bitch.

Yet Jac couldn't feel jack shit about the girl's awful predicament.

Veronica tsked, crossing her arms as her orange-red ponytail swung with her movement. "Paisely is why she's there. She totally set her up."

"And Chris." Jac reminded pointedly.

"Whatever, the bitch was a snake then and a snake now."

"That's funny because I actually ran into Paisely at the airport. She's headed there to go get her." Jared dropped, not even flinching at the explosion of such a bomb.

Veronica shook off Benny's arm with an astounding, "WHAT?"

"Wow, Veronica, this is the most distraught you've ever been." Jac commented, not even able to cringe at how lifeless she sounded. This actually wasn't the most distraught she'd seen Veronica but everyone had vowed to never mention the night Paisely leaked her sextape and had sent the girl into teary hysterics - even if the Rumor Mill was currently making it hard to forget.

Veronica began to angrily pace the broad hotel suite, the glimmering city beyond the open balcony casting colors upon her black dress. "Ugh, that bitch! Erika is mine!"

"Veronica is turning gay right before our eyes, I am appalled." Benny gasp-grinned.

"I feel bad about the yacht party now," Jac said, or to be more accurate lied, because she actually didn't care about anything. Which was starting to make her skin crawl with a surreal sense she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Well, sort of, she tried to kill us."

"Let's get this straight, guys, we can't tell Chris. He will annoy us forever." Benny stated, hands out as if she were in the works of stopping the world from moving.

However, she was ignored because at that moment, there was a loud, tantalizing knock on the door that sounded like a mixture of asshole, demanding, and entitled. Everyone in the room froze; Jared midway into adjusting his beanie that charmingly clashed with his cheap Nordstrom suit, Veronica on the verge of dialing Paisely's number, and Benny still acting as if she could stop an earthquake.

It was Jac who sighed, ambling tiredly over to the door. She was so not ready for Chris, or the stalking wannabes, or even Damon with his stupid face asking for an apology.  However, she forced herself to swing open the door -  a camera nearly knocking into her face.

"Ah, here we are. Set up over there, Rob."

The gigantic tripod Canon camera slowly shoved past her into the room, three people dressed in contemporary colors hurrying in behind it.

"I need a retouch!" Veronica exclaimed at the abrupt interruption before anyone could utter a word, darting to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

"You're all really early," was all Jac said blandly as she regarded the surprisingly small Total Lexington camera crew setting up in the middle of the luxury suite. Eve had given her the heads up only three hours ago, reminding Jac to look pretty, maintain appearances, and keep the party to a minimum. Rich kids partied hard but no one was supposed to know how hard.

Jac tried to pinpoint who was the producer, Dash, out of the small crew; one, who was short and stocky in size clad in a plain flannel and oversized jeans, another who looked like they'd been under the knife in the pursuit of becoming a failing Ken doll, and a woman in a grey, Gucci business set who was far too busy texting away on an iPad to help the short, stocky one with the tripod.

Jac was just about to zero in on the Ken doll when the woman finally tore her eyes away from her device and stepped forward with a smile that landed on her red lips and burst into a gracious beam. "Ah, I'm assuming you're Jac." She said - except she was speaking to Benny Costa who'd clumsily fallen on the bed after trying to adjust the straps of her mink-fur sandals with an oof!

The pale, dark-haired girl's face flushed and she stifled a laugh. "Oh, no, not me. I could never be Jac, that's Jac. I'm Benny."

The woman smoothly retracted her outstretched hand before shoving it towards Jac with a light chuckle. "Oh, my apologies. All I heard was black hair and I kind of just tuned the rest out," She explained as if she were excusing a no-show to the Met Ball. Although Jac made no effort to shake her hand, her manicured fingers curled around Jac's anyways, flaunting an overarching tattoo of angel wings. "My name is Sable Clarke-Simmons, a.k.a. Dash, but that's only a name I'm known by in surface level Hollywood so disregard it for now."

"I-I thought you were a man." Jac found herself stammering. Eve had told her all about Dash and how he was a dazzling, beautiful man who had a compassion for the family's reputation - or whatever.

Sable, who was also dazzling and beautiful with glittering ebony skin and a smile that was a mixture of warm and comfortably hot, tilted her head back with a laugh. "Oh, no. I'm not a man, you see, you're one of the first people who actually knows what I look like. I have a male persona to skip all of the women-versus-men-wage bull crap. Todd, here, usually fills in for my public platform." She gestured to the Ken doll who pretended as if his hands were the scope of a camera as he made a border around his perfectly rearranged face.

"That is so poetic." Jared breathed from his corner, looking as if he were truly taken by Sable's antics.

"More like badass." Benny chimed in.

She flashed another 'I-could-be-your-president' smile. "Thank you. Anyway, let's get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?"

Jac only shrugged. She couldn't even feel an ounce of indignation at her parents' stupid camera crew crashing her party. All she could feel was sweet, sweet indifference. Sable could tell her they were about to kill her and throw her into the street for views and she wouldn't evoke a single scream of protest.

"Now, is there alcohol here? Frienzies?" Sable asked, clasping her hands together as she regarded the teenagers.

There was a large silence that followed as the they all tried to figure out the two points presented. One, why on earth was an adult acknowledging the fact teen parties included alcohol - especially ragers. And two, what did she even mean by frienzies?

Or at least Jared and Benny were. Jared, as the former drug-selling boy he was, shifted awkwardly in his stature as if he were contemplating his getaway and Benny froze in her perch on the bed, clearly trying to hold in some sort of hilarious outburst.

Jac didn't care.

"There isn't any champagne here if that's what you're asking," She replied after clearing her throat. "And I don't know what frienzies are. If you mean the guests, the party hasn't even started yet."

Sable's smile didn't falter.  "No, hun, I mean drugs. Cush, coke, molly, whatever it is you little privileged children kill your brains with these days."

Benny burst into laughter at that moment, falling over again. "We don't call it frienzies." She choked.

"Well, whatever you call it," Sable said flippantly. It was total taboo to actually speak of what happened once mansion doors closed and Louis Vuittons were discarded and champagne bottles were popped open. However, it was becoming apparent that Sable wasn't a Beverly Hills-native. "Is any of that here?"

"No, ma'am. We're nice, little privileged children that don't get in any trouble," Jac responded sarcastically, feeling like a robot, or changed as Jared liked to put it. "Plus, my mom specifically said Dash - erm, you - wanted to keep all that stuff out of the mix."

"Nonsense!" Sable exclaimed, dropping her hands at her sides as if she were absolutely flabbergasted. Even Todd, the face of her career, broke into a silent gasp by her side as if he couldn't believe it himself. "That will not do! We need drugs, we need alcohol, we need kids on the floor twerking their backs in money! Not a damn kiddie tea party!"

At that, both Jared, Benny, and even Veronica from the other side of the bathroom burst into laughter.

Jac only limply shrugged her shoulders again. If she had such a problem with how boring the party was going to be, she could complain to her mother.

Shaking her head, Sable gingerly handed her iPad to Todd before whipping out a very hi-tech phone that not even Jac recognized from the breast pocket of her suit. As she started furiously dialing a number, Jac caught the glimmer of a red light emitting from the tripod camera that had been stealthily set up in the far corner of the room, angled to catch the entire conversation.

She wanted to get mad at the fact they had started recording without even asking her but she couldn't stir any outrage even if she wanted to.

It was too exhausting and she was tired.

With three minutes of pleasant-but-implication-of-dismay small talk, Sable got off the phone with a flustered sigh - and then jabbed a finger at Benny. "You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Wanna pick up some drugs and get your own reality show?"

Benny's brown eyes flickered to Jac's as if to say, 'what the fuck,' before she cleared her throat, eradicating another laugh that would probably last a millennium. It wasn't like she was in the position to do an out of the blue drug run anyway.

She held up her hands as if she were surrendering. "Uh, no thanks. I like not committing felonies and having my own privacy and shit but-"

"I'll do it. Where do I need to go?" Jared suddenly piped up, pushing up off the wall then and adjusting his Allsaints beanie.

Nearly all eyes - besides Sable's - fell on the effortlessly indie boy in shock. However, he simply shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his old Dad jeans. "I mean, I don't want a reality show or anything. Just money because I'm super broke."

Jac didn't know why but she found herself shaking her head in annoyance. Here he was preaching all about changing for the better but he was still the same drug-dealing boy he'd been last year. It only solidified Jac's comforting thought that tortured her and kept her at bay all the same.

'Everyone lies,' she thought once more. Those two words were becoming a mantra.

Sable clapped her hands three times. "Bravo, excellent. You'll get the drugs. And Todd, here, will pick up the champagne. We are going to save this party - and this pilot episode, folks! Let the filming begin!"

'Apparently, the filming already started,' Jac wanted to shoot back. But then she realized throwing out a quip would only make her feelings come back. It would only make her care about her parents and their outright idiotic train wreck of a family. It'd make her think about Blake and how he was supposed to be her saving grace but only ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it. It'd make her think of Damon and how she was fighting the urge to run back into his stupid arms and Erika who was her best friend and how she might have been wrong for dropping her like an out-of-style fashion trend for her spat with Paisely.

So Jac held her tongue and went with the flow, just like Mr. Brightside-Wearing-Crocs had urged her to.

Feeling numb and going with the flow was the perfect formula to avoid anymore hurt.

ⒾⓁⓁⓊⓈⒾⓄⓃ

Like a gorgeous Cinderella dress being bippity-boppity-booped into perfection, it didn't take long for the Birthday Bash to be back in the running to becoming the best rager of the year. The MGM Mansion came alive at the stroke of eight.  What was once an exquisite mansion nestled in a trimmed forest fortress, hiding it away from the rest of Las Vegas chaos, was now a magnificent attraction beckoning forth dreamers who couldn't get into save their life and rich kids who couldn't wait to party their sorrows away. The grand venue mimicked the fine, mansions of France with elaborate, winding balconies and ornate rooftops decorated with rose bushes and meticulously placed vines. A large, glittering fountain of crystal water gushed from the center of the circular, marble stone driveway packed with luxury cars, the sound resembling that of a gentle Niagara waterfall. The bright lights of the gigantic villa were gold orbs glowing among the neon shades of the city surrounding it, peeking through the borders of nature that shielded it from the general public but was a guide to any with an invitation.

A red carpet that started from the broad, enchanting entrance all the way to the towering silver gates greeted every clan of party goers, two bulky security in bow ties greeting each and every guest before they could enter to sniff out imposters and cheaply-clad peasants.

And the few that were lucky to have VIP access - or the few that had managed to pull Philip Lim gowns out of thin air as Lindsey Wells had thanks to Mia Matthews' closet -  got to enter the ballroom, where all the wonderful anarchy would transpire.

The ballroom was vivid colors of gold, silver, and mahogany with spiraling chandeliers, fountains spewing Dom Perignon champagne, fresco-embellished walls depicting Victorian balls and an arching balcony overlooking the scene of twirling girls, gambling boys, Calvin Harris surrounded by groupies while he spun another one of his hits, and couples sneaking behind the gold and velvet tapestries to play much naughtier games.

And Benny Costa and Seth Montador were certainly playing naughty games.

Seth had appeared behind her just as she was about to swap her glass of champagne for Fiji water, slipping his hand in hers and asking timidly if they could talk. And like the freshman couple that had to be from East Prep with their flaunting of school spirit with matching green-and-gold lion stickers underneath the next tapestry over, they didn't waste any time going at it - or as at it as they could get behind a tapestry that had them only inches away from a bustling party.

Seth's lips were always questioning but euphoric, lingering as if making sure he was allowed before pulling inward, before going further. Benny could practically feel the question mark as his hands trailed downward, gasping in the kiss when he finally snaked his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. So close that a porn star would blush.

That's what she liked about Seth. He was calculating but still a shitload of fun. Underneath the nice guy exterior, he was consuming, addictive, crazy.  And it was almost mind boggling to see it now.

After drunkenly hooking up during a hectic trip to the XS club, Benny and Seth had been dancing in a game of wonder; wondering who dared to make the first step, wondering if they even wanted to take a step, wondering what the other wondered about, wondering about the consequences.

They had to take a long, three-hour sit down to discuss what exactly was going on before Seth even felt that it was okay to kiss her. He'd kept running in circles over wanting things to be genuine and the fear of ruining their friendship if they dated and it all fell apart.

'You're my best friend, Benny, and what happens if we're not meant to be like this and we destroy what we already have?' He'd said before making a thousand more variations of the same statement.

Benny had to admit he had a point. She'd seen it happen all the time. Boy meets girl, boy and girl become best friends, boy and girl  accidentally see each other's crotches, and the rest is destruction. It'd happened with Damon and Jac - and the destruction was slow as fuck and still in the process!

And even closer to home, it'd happened to her and Brett Richers but Benny liked to think there were many underlying factors to their story. The most important being that Brett Richers was a selfish dickhead that used girls to take the blame for his drug problems and then tossed them like the first draft of a Helmut Lang collection but that was a story Benny was tired of getting fired up over.

She was tired of sulking in the past and ready to move on - even if she was pregnant with her ex's baby but she had a solution for that, sort of. A solution that had startled even herself when she'd come up with it, making her question if she was possessed by a demon that went by the name of Erika Felix but made everything feel so resolved and easy and less scary that she had a hard time discarding it.

'What if we fall apart?' Seth had asked, anxiety tinging his voice.

'What if we're epic?' Benny had responded back and as she made out with Seth Montador, feeling like her ovaries were about to burst if his hands kept traveling and their kiss kept deepening, she was starting to feel as if it truly could be epic.

"Wait, wait." Seth suddenly gasped, pulling so abruptly away that Benny felt her lips still aching for his, her entire body leaning into him as he tried to escape. He steadied her by the tops of her shoulders before she could fall.

Seth looked angelic with an edge in a 'Justin Bieber-post-Selena-Gomez' way in a wool, black Lanvin sportcoat, blonde hair boyishly disheveled and adorned with a pair of retro Oliver Peoples glasses.

They were both breathing heavily, both clearly wanting to jump right back in, except Seth was fighting it - 'of course!'

"What's wrong this time?" Benny asked, trying to gear herself up for the inevitable; being thrown back into an endless sea of anxiety and terror and the question, 'What the fuck am I going to do?' constantly plaguing her mind.

Seth finally caught his breath, licking his soft, pink lips that Benny desperately wanted to kiss again. "I just thought of something."

"You mean, invented another reason why this is wrong? What now? We're gonna be on Santa's naughty list?"

"No, not that - but honestly that's really worrying too. I never thought of that and now I'm freaking out even more. I want gifts, okay?"

"What if I'm the gift? And Santa just came by early, huh? Ever thought of that?" Benny quipped playfully, almost wishing she had a bow to place upon her head of stick-straight raven hair for emphasis.

Seth grinned. However, it only lasted a moment before it faded and he was glancing at the tapestry that shielded them, enveloping them in a dimly lit darkness that somehow drowned out the continuous chatter and booming music.

He sighed, shoulders drooping. "I really don't want to think of this but I'd be a horrible friend if I didn't."

"Let's not think, thinking is lame." Benny suggested, tugging on his crystal-studded Saint Laurent tie as if she wasn't pregnant and technically prohibited from getting down and dirty. Seth sighed up at the golden chandeliers and fresco-ornamented ceiling before looking at her again, hand reaching to grab hers.

For a fraction of a second, Benny thought he was going to give in until he dropped it and took a step back.

The question hit her like a bullet.

"What about Brett?"

Benny felt as if she were in the middle of the ballroom and he had just pulled her pants down, revealing her black, lacy Fleur Du Mal thong in front of the entire school district.

"Oh fuck," was all she could manage, withholding the one thought that rang clearly in her head; 'I so deserve this.'

"Oh fuck what?" Seth questioned, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh fuckity fuck, you just fucking ruined it, you fuck." As if it were a natural instinct, Benny tried to flee, sidestepping her way from behind the tapestry. Her mind was racing again, running like an award-winning Olympic runner with all her pesky anxiety.

What was she going to do?

She was stupid for thinking she could actually be with Seth.

She had a baby for crying out loud!

"Benny, wait." Seth grabbed her elbow but didn't pull her back, a question in his touch that made Benny want to melt into him.

He was just so adorable and considerate and despicably good that she didn't have any more ovaries to give!

She tried to get out of her thoughts, come back down to earth and just focus. To be realistic because lately, she'd been lacking. That's how she'd gotten pregnant after all, hooking up with Brett Richers at a party because she'd foolishly let his drunken lies take her out of reality.

'I want you not Mia, my oompaloompa ass.'

If that had been true, he wouldn't have told her that night had been a mistake the very next day and went running back to Mia Matthews without even telling her the truth. If that had been true, he would have at least felt bad about letting her take the rap for his drug addiction and spending a whole summer in rehab!

Although Benny tried her best to get over how fucked up Brett had been, she still found herself disgustingly bitter sometimes.

Like now.

Because the selfish, druggie, dickhead had left her pregnant, addicted, and now he was stealing her possibility to be with Seth too.

She didn't want Brett.

She just wanted a damn apology.

Just an acknowledgement that he had been horrible to her.

But of course, all she had was a baby and a stupid addiction she couldn't shake nor tell anyone about without feeling like a failure.

"Look, I want to be with you, Benny," Seth said, honesty practically dripping off his voice. "In fact, I love you and you know that. But I have to make sure it's okay with Brett. I mean, think about it-"

"I know. He's one of your besties and you have morality.  That's why you're so awesome."

He smiled tightly then and leaned in, the scent of his John Varvatos cologne only making Benny wish he'd  kissed her again rather than pecking her lightly on the forehead. "Thanks for understanding, Benny." He beamed adorably before disappearing into the party, leaving her lingering behind the tapestry, in the darkness.

As soon as he was gone, Benny found herself wanting to cry -  well, more like, she was crying but completely in denial of it, fighting back the tears as hard as she could until she was squeezing her eyes shut.

Like she'd always been doing lately, her hands found her stomach that seemed to be developing a hint of a bump, tarnishing the flat stomach she'd worked so hard in cross-country for. Was this what it felt like to lose her youth? Realizing she couldn't have a flat stomach like all the other girls anymore? Realizing she wasn't going to be able to run anymore, which meant Jac was going to surpass her on the team? Realizing she couldn't drink champagne and get ratchet with the rest of her peers?

Realizing she couldn't even fall in love with a boy who actually loved her? And not the intoxicated, drugged haze of love she'd thought she'd had with Brett.

Her life was ending before it could even get started. There was no way Mrs. Costa was going to let her daughter be with a baby in her stomach. As soon as she told her mother, she'd be shipped off to a Cherokee reservation in Idaho where she'd have the baby in secret, missing out on quality schooling, her friends, Seth.

"Fuck," she sobbed, resisting the urge to squeeze her stomach until it hurt. "You better be worth it, you little shit. You better cure Cancer and HIV and become president and stay away from drugs and stoner boys - or girls. " She whispered to whatever was inside of her and then instantly felt horrible.

She felt horrible about everything; her stupid decision with Brett, the baby, the lie she was planning to tell, the lie she was already living.

The truth was she and Seth Montador had never slept together. Instead of drunkenly hooking up, they'd stumbled into the Costa penthouse that night and had both knocked out midway into undressing from all the booze.

Benny so happened to wake up first remembering everything because pregnant girls couldn't get drunk, whilst Seth had remembered absolutely nothing.

She was able to lie.

Because she had decided that night that it would be Seth instead of Brett.

Reluctantly rubbing her stomach, Benny savored one more second behind the tapestry, whispering, "Sorry," to the fetus inside of her.

Then she wiped away her tears, thankful for her waterproof mascara, and chalked her meltdown up to hormonal changes.

She was a bad bitch and bad bitches didn't cry - even when they weren't getting any gifts from Santa due to their naughty deeds.

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A/N: Decided to split this chapter in parts because it would be really long. The next few updates will be at this party where a bunch of crap happens.

Thoughts are super, super welcome! Thank you so much for reading!