"I'm probably not answering for a reason so fuck off or leave a message, your choice."

If she were stuck in one of those ridiculous, vintage cartoons, Jacqueline Lexington's emerald green eyes would have rolled to the back of her head and back - except this was the real world so she settled for an overused eye roll instead.

"I'm assuming her 'reason' is Seth." Veronica Conrad cackled, putting quotations around 'reason,' as Jac groaned and started to dial Seth Montador's number.

It was exactly midnight and she, Veronica, and Chris Edwards were standing morbidly around one of the velvet-carpeted Cosmopolitan hotel halls, still clad in their party clothes that smelled like chlorine and champagne showers. Despite the bar fights Brett Richers had triggered that'd brought police to the XS club faster than a Barneys store could restock, they'd all managed to escape in a dingy taxi. The taxi had been a downgrade compared to the limo they'd arrived in but had been better than the backseat of a police car.

However, with Benny and Seth MIA, there was no way to get into their Spring Break penthouse as the half-Cherokee girl had forgotten to give anyone a key.

Jac didn't bother leaving a message when Seth's warm and airy voice answered her call, kindly telling her to leave a message and have a great day.

"I bet ten grand they're getting it on." Chris Edwards snickered, leaning on the gold door of the Costa penthouse.

"Seth and Benny? I highly doubt it." Jac scoffed. She knew for a fact that Benny was still seething over Brett Richers and Seth Montador had seemed to rule off dating completely after a dinner-gone-wrong with his wealthy, uptight family in Washington D.C - not that Benny would be able to date anyway.

"Have you seen the way she looks at him?" Chris smirked, arms crossed smugly across his chest. "I seriously never thought I'd see the day someone would be attracted to glitter fingers."

"Seth is really hot if you ask me." Veronica piped up, seeming as if she were talking more to herself.

"Okay? I didn't need to know that."

"Enough about Seth!" Jac scolded, her voice sounding louder than her own thoughts. While she felt more stressed out than a prep for Ivy League Day, Veronica and Chris were acting so blasé. Their friends were either missing or arrested and they couldn't even get into their penthouse yet they were far more concerned with the likely chances of Benny and Seth having run off somewhere to hook up!

Jac dialed Paisely's number, hoping the ditsy blonde would at least pick up but to her dismay, Paisely's voicemail answered instead which was just a giggly 'hello.' Thinking of Paisely arrested or lost on the Las Vegas strip made Jac more nervous than the pose-and-falls of Fashion Week models. Paisely was just so clueless.

"Paige isn't answering her phone either," She said, anxiously slipping her Windows phone back into her black Rebecca Minkoff clutch. "We should probably find her before she-"

"Hey, where did that lackey of yours go?" Chris interrupted cheekily. "Or did he run off to get it on too?"

Jac narrowed her eyes. "This really isn't the time." She hadn't seen Blake since he bailed for a phone call and had promised herself she wouldn't be paranoid. Blake was the good guy, the cliche' and overly cheesy knight in Target armor with "job things" she wouldn't understand - but that was okay. She trusted him.

He had promised her himself that he didn't want to hurt her and while her ex had said the same thing, Jac just felt more certain when it came to Blake.

Although maybe she was lying to herself as cheaterade theories were already running wild in her head. What if the "job thing" wasn't even a girl? What if he just wanted to get away from her? It wouldn't be the first time someone wanted to. Hell, even her own mother had ditched her and had only returned to jump at an opportunity to ruin her father's marriage - not that Jeffrey Lexington had seemed the slightest bit bothered by it.

Veronica linked her arm with Jac's then, snatching her out of her doubts. "Jac's right. Benny and Seth are probably more than fine but who knows what kind of mess Paisely could get herself into? I mean, it's Las Vegas. She could get arrested, kidnapped, get herself-"

"Locked in a champagne closet." Chris finished, an odd look on his face that Jac was too muddled to read.

Veronica gave the red-haired Lacrosse player a five-second glower before leading Jac down the brightly lit hallway. "We should probably check into a hotel first so we can at least have somewhere to crash if we don't find Benny tonight."

"Paisely still gets lost at the school she's been going to for two years. I don't think we should waste any time."Jac deadpanned as they headed down the maple-stone steps descending down to the next hall which was as dead as Silent Hill due to how late it was - except for one drunk couple fumbling with their door.

Jac tried not to think of Blake.

"Okay then let's split up!" Veronica exclaimed, stopping their pace with a smile that seemed way too energetic. "Chris will go find Benny and Seth-"

"And Paisely." Jac reminded.

"Yeah, her, and you and I will go check into the Wynn hotel."

"Do I get bonus points if I come back with Jac's charity case?" Chris chortled and Jac gave the boy a tired glare.

"You get bonus points if you come back with a brand new personality." With that, she tugged Veronica down the hall, relieved that she didn't have to be around Chris's irritating presence any longer. She wasn't sure if the Lacrosse player even gave a rat's ass about finding Paisely but she had a feeling he cared more than Veronica.

As the two girls sauntered past the drunk-couple and into the elevator, Jac felt her phone vibrate in her clutch and she quickly pulled it out, hoping it was Paisely or at least Benny telling her she was on her way.

However, while it wasn't exactly Benny or Paisely, it was still someone she was more than relieved to hear from - although she'd never admit it.

Blake Evans had sent her a text; 'Worried. Saw police at the XS club. Where are you???'

Jac couldn't help but smile as she texted him back before slipping her phone and her worries back into her clutch. 

ⓁⓊⓍⓊⓇⓎ

Paisely Mont Vernon had been banging her fists against the hard, metal door of the room she'd been locked in for so long that she could barely feel her hands. However, she was starting to think there wasn't anyone left to hear her. The loud commotion of running heels, screaming, laughing, and glass cracking had died down and no matter how hard Paisely pressed her ear to the door, she couldn't hear a thing.

More tears spilling over the brims of her doe blue eyes, she slid down to the floor that felt as cold as the little air around her, pulling her arms around her knees. Normally she would have loved to be stuck in a room surrounded by shelves of every luxury champagne brand that existed. However, the rose Brut bottle glimmering on one of the very top shelves of the cold, metal room looked as ghoulish as she felt.

Paisely wasn't sure how she'd ended up in a champagne closet. She'd followed all of Veronica Conrad's instructions; turn left when she got to the pools and find the back door. Yet there wasn't a back door which left two conclusions.

Either Veronica had messed up or Veronica had set her up.

Paisely refused to believe the second conclusion. Veronica was her friend. She'd practically cried on her shoulder about how alone she'd felt. Surely, she wouldn't stab her in the back after bonding on a VIP table. The hours before had felt like old, magical times when all everyone cared about was having fun and more importantly, having fun with each other but now Paisely couldn't shake off the nasty feeling that something wasn't right.

Then again, there was never anything right with her circle of friends lately. In a span of a month, Veronica had been kicked to the curb, she'd taken down Erika, and Damon was nowhere to be found. Not to mention, there was always this undertone when together that felt like everyone secretly hated each other's guts.

But despite how shady everyone at Alabaster always seemed to be, Paisely refused to believe Veronica had betrayed her. This had to be a misunderstanding because Paisely wasn't sure how much drama she could take anymore.

As if her body and soul was agreeing, Paisely felt more tears coming on, blurring her vision of the pretty champagne bottles in front of her.

'Maybe I deserve this,' she thought. Maybe this was her karma coming back to get her. She hadn't exactly been an angel among Gods and monsters. She'd fought fire with fire when it came to Erika Felix and now the poor girl was either having the time of her life out of the city or exactly where she was now, lonely and miserable because of what she did to her.

She wanted to believe she had destroyed Erika for a good cause. The auburn beauty had been a total bitch but even after weeks, Paisely still couldn't get the image of a broken Erika in a beautiful gown tearing up as nearly the entire city jeered at her.

The thought only made Paisely cry harder and louder. She was no better than the former Queen Bee herself - and the realization was more morose than all the cancelled clothing lines Paisely had bet her money on.

Chris had been wrong. She was more than just a sad, shriveled up Michelle. She was worse. She was the hair stylist who'd styled Kelly's hair, the two, lost members of the group that were always forgotten, and every star that Beyonce had squashed with her voice.

She was a pathetic hypocrite, a corruption that ruined Erika Felix, and a poser.

With that in mind, Paisely almost wanted to stay in the champagne closet until she was old and wrinkly and even would have been happy with her fate - however, the metal door behind her slowly whizzed open, slamming directly into her and knocking her over with a miserable eep!

She fell on to her palms and knees, shifting upright and blinking furiously as her eyes tried to adjust to the new burst of light seeping into the dark room. She instantly made out the two figures standing in the doorway; a brown-haired twentysomething boy with an XS club apron around his muscular waist and...'Chris?'

"Is that your friend?" The bartender asked, he was carrying a large cardboard box in his hands labeled 'Lost Shit,' and wearing an expression that Paisely noticed was common among the poor people she always felt sorry for; the 'I-hate-my-job,' expression.

Chris Edwards looked her up and down with his familiar smirk. "Yup, that's my Daisy Paisely."

Paisely had told herself she wanted to be stuck in the champagne closet forever but that didn't stop her from launching herself into Chris's arms anyway. He was drenched and smelled like champagne and faint Armani cologne.

Chris chuckled, grabbing Paisely's hands that were encircling his neck and bringing them down to her sides. "Yeaaah, you're not gonna wanna hug me after I spill all the shit I've got to say."

"No offense but can you guys spill it outside? We're closing." The bartender interrupted abruptly but Chris only produced a wad of hundred dollar bills from his soggy Balmain jean pockets and tossed it at the bartender who quickly grabbed the cash and stalked away.

Seeming satisfied that they were alone, Chris squeezed Paisely's hands, opening his mouth as if he were going to speak but relaxing into a frown. He reached up and gently wiped Paisely's dry tears away. "Aw, baby, were you crying?"

"I mean, yeah! I was trapped!" Paisely cried, tearing away from Chris. Her voice sounded so angry that it surprised her.

Chris only laughed. "Right. Well get ready to cry some more, okay?"

"Why?" She was pretty sure she'd cried a river already.

"Because I'm here to tell you to get lost."

Paisely gasped, hands flying up to her lips. "What? Why would you tell me to do that?"

Chris shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, to be more exact, I'm here to tell you to get lost before Veronica fucks you up. This whole trapped-in-a-closet thing is just a warm up. She's taking pages out of Erika's book and we all know how that goes."

"But Veronica's my friend! We made up and she told me how sad she was and-"

"You're so cute, Paige, just because someone says they're sorry doesn't mean they actually mean it. How many times does someone have to fuck you over for you to get that?"

Paisely paced the metal floor, emotions swirling around in her tipsy head - every emotion except the miserable feeling she'd felt when she was crying her eyes out. "So-so she was being fake?" She cried, running a hand through her hair.

"Yes, Paisely, she was being fake," Chris replied calmly as if he hadn't just confirmed her worst nightmare. "And if you hang around, shit is gonna hit the fan."

Paisely finally stopped her pacing, standing in the middle of the champagne closet. She felt herself shaking like she usually did when she was about to cry. However, there wasn't an ounce of sadness inside. She felt...angry.

"I'm serious, Paisely," Chris continued, oblivious to the sweet girl having a violent meltdown right in front of him. "Apparently, you left your phone at the VIP section during the shitstorm and now she thinks she has major dirt on you - and I don't think it's the pics you sent me."

"Then what?" Paisely hissed, her voice so low that she nearly jumped.

Chris, however, didn't seem to notice. "Oh, I don't know, something about the Venice Beach Bonfire." He said, reaching to scratch his neck with a haggard yawn.

If Paisely's strappy Prada heels hadn't already been practically glued to the floor, Paisely would have paced herself into one of the shelves, her entire body freezing on the phrase she hadn't heard since sophomore year - and hadn't wanted to think about ever again. "She mentioned the bonfire?" She asked tentatively, turning away from Chris and silently hoping she was good at poker faces. "Wha-what did she say? What is she gonna do?"

"I don't know, she didn't say much, " Chris sighed and Paisely noticed just how tired he was. "Just said that it's major dirt and she wants to spill it at Jac's birthday party this Friday. Honestly, Paisely, I know I've been such a superficial dick but..." He trailed off, an odd expression that was neither smug or taunting appearing on his face. Not one person in Beverly Hills - even the Edwards - could recognize the look except for Paisely.

Chris took a step forward, his head slightly hanging low. "I really don't want to see you get dragged again," He admitted sheepishly. "It was already enough I had to spend a semester watching Erika drag you every chance she got. It's why I was so proud of you in the first place for finally sticking up to that vindictive bitch. It's why I wanted you to take over. You deserve it, Paige."

Paisely didn't realize she was crying again until she felt a tear hanging on her Covergirl glossed lip and she quickly wiped at her eyes. "You're so cute, Chris."

The red-haired, superficial dick grinned softly. "Yeah, so are you but you won't be if you go back. Veronica's jumped on the Felix-ass-kissing train and now she wants you gone," He explained ruefully and then more quietly, "That's the lesbo power of Erika for you."

"I'm not leaving," Paisely decided almost instantly. Veronica already had the dirt even Erika couldn't get her hands on. There was no turning back now.

"But Paisely, she's gonna-"

"Chris, I'm the Queen-Beyonce-Supreme thingie and Veronica is Michelle and I am not afraid of whatever dirt she has." Paisely declared. Her voice wasn't angry anymore but it was still the most self-assured she'd ever sounded, so confident, in fact, that Paisely wasn't even sure if it was her own voice.

She didn't sound shrill or nervous or drunk. She sounded like a bitch.

Chris smiled wryly as if Marc Jacobs had finally released the collection he'd been waiting for. "What are you gonna do?"

"What has to be done," Paisely proclaimed, looking Chris directly in the eye. "I'm going to end her." With a flip of her blonde hair, Paisely side-stepped the Lacrosse player and finally strutted out of the champagne closet.

She felt as if an entire weight had lifted off of her. She had always hated drama, always hated the petty fights that came with them, and had always valued friendship over everything else. However, she'd forgotten she lived in Beverly Hills and as the former Queen had said herself ; Beverly Hills was just a game board.

And since no one would let her be happy cheering from the sidelines, it was time to join the game.

ⓁⓊⓍⓊⓇⓎ

"Okay but like seriously, why are you so comfortable taking those things? They're like the symbols of peasant culture." Veronica asked as she and Jac slipped out of one of the many yellow taxi cabs parked on the curb in front of the affluent Four Seasons Hotel.

Jac only shrugged. "It's just like having a chauffeur." Except in a car with bland cushioned seats, no mini fridge to quench thirst on the ride, and possibly a driver who talked way too much despite begging him not to. If it were a good three weeks ago, Jac would have walked before she ever considered taking a taxi but now she could see what Blake had meant. Taxis, or anything "less lavish", weren't atrocities, they were the symbols of normal life.

Producing a hundred-dollar bill out of her clutch and paying the chatty driver, Jac weaved her way through the hordes of designer-clad Spring Breakers and overly enthusiastic tourists and into the tall skyscraper looming gracefully over the neon-lit city.

The Four Seasons Hotel lobby was, like every five-star hotel, elegantly decorated. The glossy floors displayed a maple-colored mosaic, mauve, leather armchairs occupied by what looked to be lounging businessmen and groups of friends who looked nowhere near tired despite the time in each corner of the room, and a large, towering bouquet of violet Japanese Azaleas reaching all the way to the dome-shaped ceiling at the very center of the luxurious lobby.

While it was almost two in the morning, bellhops were still sauntering from elevator to elevator carrying Louis Vuitton, Rimowa, and the occasional Target luggage bags as guests clad in cocktail dresses and suits hurried in and out of the revolving doors as if they had a mission to complete before the sun came up.

Jac and Veronica ambled over to the oval-shaped front desk that was arrayed with intricate vases of purple lilies and as Veronica began to mull over what rooms to book, Jac checked her phone, hoping for a text from the missing.

However, all she had was five more missed calls from her mother. 'What does she want now?'

"So, Jac, what are we doing for your B-day?" Veronica asked suddenly, resting her elbow on the front desk, brown-orange hair cascading down her shoulder. The bellhop who'd been attending to them was now flipping hurriedly through pages in a large checkbook as if his life had been threatened.

Jac pursed her matte Christian Louboutin lips together. Her seventeenth birthday was in exactly four days and she hadn't even given it a thought. In fact, she'd forgotten the day even existed. She had been far too involved in figuring out what the hell her relationship status was.

However, now that all with Blake seemed to be going well...

"I think I have an idea of what I'm doing," Jac thought aloud. "But it doesn't really include that many people." She could already see it now; she and Blake making out on a giant yacht all to themselves, the Las Vegas lights only a distant blur, and finally going all the way.

She knew why Blake hadn't wanted to the first time but now he was more than just a rebound.
He was her boyfriend and Jac wanted to get it over with before she could change her mind and shrink back into a ball of bitter feelings. For once, Jac felt open and she couldn't help but think it was because of how genuine Blake seemed to be.

Veronica cackled, a glint in her eye. "Ooooh, I see what you're talking about. At least let us throw a party though. Imagine the turn out! Benny and I can plan it! We could have Calvin Harris as the DJ, a really cool theme, and maybe a celebrity to sing you 'Happy Birthday,' or something!"

"That sounds great but whatever you do, don't order someone tacky to perform like Iggy Azalea." Jac warned. She and Veronica had left their grudges in the past but she could still see the girl purposely fucking up her party - not that it would matter. She had decided on the spot that the main event of her birthday would be something far more exclusive.

The frantic bellhop finally stopped searching through his checkbook, tapping on Veronica's shoulder to get her attention and Jac begrudgingly decided she was going to finally answer her mother's missed calls. While her mother was a lying bitch, she couldn't avoid her forever.

She had just dialed Eve Lexington's number, the phone ringing in her ear, when she caught sight of her birthday-main-event pushing his way through the revolving lobby doors at that moment...with a girl.

Blake Evans, white T-shirt and all, weaved his way through the few sauntering to and fro, guiding a model skinny girl with a mane of platinum blonde hair to one of the corners of the lobby, gesturing for her to sit down in one of the mauve armchairs.

Their heads were both hanging as if they knew they were being watched and Blake slowly placed a hand on the girl's thigh as if he were trying to comfort her. The girl lifted her head then, flipping her hair out of her face and Jac dropped her phone.

The girl was Tiffany Archeval - or more popularly known as Tiff, the gossip queen of Alabaster's senior class and former ass-kisser of Paisely Mont Vernon.

But what was Blake doing with another girl from her school?

"Okay so we should probably go to our room and change out of these clothes and then look for Paisely - Jac, where are you going?"

Jac barely heard Veronica as she picked up her phone and slowly crossed the glossy, mosaic floor of the lobby. The closer she got to the pair, the more everything started to piece itself together in her head. She'd seen a 'Tiffany,' in his phone the day they left Beverly Hills. She'd seen him hanging out with Emma Carmichael back in Beverly Hills and he had mysteriously bailed on her for a "job thing".

But she was right all along because as usual, Jac was never wrong. The "job thing" was a girl.

Tiff was clinging to his hand then and although Jac wasn't close enough to be sure, it looked as if the gorgeous senior was...crying.

Jac tried to figure out what she was going to say when she confronted them. Should she be angry or should she be reasonable? Despite the hard proof directly in front of her, she couldn't help but remember what Blake had promised. He knew she'd been hurt before and he had promised he wasn't going to be that guy.

So surely there had to be an explanation for why he had ditched her for Tiff Archeval, right?

Jac would have confronted them. She would have calmly informed Blake that it was over and wished him a good evening with Tiff. Then she would have strutted away, head held high and tousling her long hair, seeming satisfied with getting the last word.

However, she felt too open, too out there. What good would it do to act unbothered when Blake already knew just how broken she was?

So instead of confronting them, she stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and turned around - bumping directly into someone else with an oof! that sent her Windows phone hurtling to the floor.

"Fuck, sorry."

Jac was about to reach for her phone but immediately froze, green eyes lifting up from the broken phone on the floor to the ocean, blue eyes staring back at her.

Damon Felix wore the same breathless expression on his face for only a moment before relaxing into that familiar one-dimpled smile that always made Jac want to either kiss him or slap him - and currently, Jac wasn't sure which one she wanted to do more.

"Hey," was all he said. The word was casual and safe and pleasant and not enough.

So she slapped him.

ⓁⓊⓍⓊⓇⓎ

From : Chris

To : Jac, Veronica

Found the lost princess...still looking for new personality.

------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I think it's safe to say there will be a third book which I already have loosely outlined. This book is also on the last 9 or 10 chapters. I want every book to be the same length and so far everything is panning out to 10 more chapters (or less because it honestly depends on how the writing comes out.)

I would love to hear everyone's thoughts on everything that happened. I like to think this chapter pushed certain characters in a different direction so the shit storm is coming :p

Also kudos if you remembered who Tiff was (she was in the first few chapters of this book.)