Despite the fact the Lexington's Love Wins Event was in an hour, Paisely still hadn't even gotten around to shaving her legs, let alone getting ready.

So when the doorbell rang exactly thirty minutes before the event and she opened the door to find her boyfriend, Chris, looking like her prince charming in a suit from Neiman Marcus and red hair slicked back, her face flushed in guilt.

"Um...what are you doing here?" She managed innocently.

"How did I know you weren't ready?" Chris sighed in the doorway, taking in her pink baggy Christopher Kane sweater, matching leggings, and her childish pigtails. When it came to lounging around her own home, Paisely tended to lean towards what was comfortable instead of dressing up. Unlike Erika, who always looked like a model even when she was in her own room!

"I don't think I wanna go to that," Paisely finally admitted. "I think I'm kind of sick and-"

Chris only chuckled which had the jellybeans in her stomach wound in knots again. "Aw, baby, are you scared?"

Paisely nodded, wondering if she could lure him away from the event herself with the promise of a Pretty Little Liars marathon and "chill". She was practically everyone's cup of tea at the party but she couldn't shake off the feeling that this was all temporary. Surely, someone would realize she wasn't the savior in this situation.

And Erika's words were still floating around in her pretty little head; 'You're the new shiny game piece everyone wants to play with.' But eventually playing with the same game piece can get boring.

"Well, that blows but you're going to have to suck it up." Chris said dismissively, leaving Paisely dumbfounded and then he waved out the door into the brisk night before moving past her into the home foyer and up the rainbow-stone steps leading to the balcony looking over the first floor - the Mont Vernons had gone on a hipster rave during renovations and now the house reminded Paisely of a posh Candy land.

Paisely stumbled up the stairs after him and through the windowed walls of the second floor that looked over the pool-lit backyard, she could see the workers her sister, Jill, had hired setting up pink flamingo floats and chocolate fountains in preparation of the Weston Day School party she was having.

Her sister was a complete alpha and took every opportunity that their parents were out of town to throw a party - the highlight of her events usually being seven minutes of Heaven in the manor's private sauna in which middle school grade rich kids thought a peck on the lips was a naughty rush.

Paisely followed Chris up another round of stairs. "We don't have to go," She said, trying her best to sound sly but she wasn't really adept at being persuasive unless she was drunk. "We could go to Jill's party or go shopping or-"

Chris turned to face her once they made it to her blindingly pink room that made Paisely always want to giggle whenever Chris lounged around her bedroom. He contrasted heavily with her pink satin bed sheets, baby pink royal couches, the stuffed teddy bears dressed in pink floral Gucci dresses sitting neatly on her bed and the soft pink tint the room always had thanks to the groovy globe lights.

"Or we could just stay here," Paisely finished quietly. "And relaaaax."

Chris smiled that smile most of her friends thought was nerve racking but Paisely found adorable - and ninety-percent gorgeous. "You're so cute," He said affectionately, caressing her cheek for a moment and Paisely literally could grow wings - and then he cracked a grin. "But you have to show up."

He ventured into her beloved walk-in closet, leaving Paisely dumbfounded yet again.

"Why?" She asked quizzically, peering into her equally pink-and-white closet to see Chris looking through racks and racks of designer dresses. The closet could almost pass for a section at Saks.

Chris stopped scavenging through her closet. "Babe, keep up. You're getting an award because you're a lifesaver."

"But I didn't call the helicopter, it was-"

Chris interrupted her with a peck. "You just don't realize how cute you are huh?"

She was cute but certainly not a lifesaver and it irked her to lie and take the credit for something she'd had no part in. As soon as the yacht started taking in water, Paisely was screaming along with every other girl - mostly at the thought of all the delicious refreshments that were about to go to waste. Yet as usual, she somehow found herself lying for the sake of a plan to be Beyonce when she never had a problem with being Michelle.

Chris picked out a strapless Nicole Miller gown that Paisely had always liked because it flattered the extra butt and curves that made her stick out among her super skinny friends - and tossed it to the marble floor. "Do you have anything that doesn't scream 'Barbie Goes To A Party,'?"

Paisely quickly swooped over to pick up the dress, pressing it to her chest to cure the damage Chris had done. "What do you mean? "

"This is a matter of reinvention," He explained, giving a disdainful frown at another one of Paisely's favorite mini dresses. "You're the Head Bitch now which means you have to walk, talk, and dress like one."

Paisely frowned, not knowing whether or not to be hurt by his words. "So there's something wrong with the way I dress?"

Chris didn't answer her. Instead he kept searching through her racks of dresses, throwing the garments that "sucked" to the floor and Paisely immediately picked up the discarded clothes. Chris reassured her that he was meticulously giving her pointers on how an "It Girl," should dress but Paisely couldn't help but feel like he was basically telling her to get a new wardrobe.

According to Chris, her Herve Leger scoop-neck dress that was one of her main go-tos for parties was "tacky." The Sophia Webster angel wing sandals she'd begged her mother to buy at the auction for five million dollars apparently raised the question; "Are you seven and is this Halloween?" and her entire handbag collection had "Barbie Goes To Prep School," plastered all over them.

"You know what? Just stay here and do your makeup, babe," He said after another good fifteen minutes of criticizing her wardrobe. "I have just the thing."

Then he disappeared out of the room before Paisely could get out a word and she collapsed in one of the chaise white couches of the closet sitting area, dumping her "Barbie collection" on to the mauve carpet. However, just before she could feel sorry for herself - and maybe rummage through one of her closet snack drawers for a pack of gummy worms - the dashing red-head peeked into the room again.

"Oh and don't do that whole glittery shit you're always doing on your eyes." He offered almost helpfully.

Paisely gasped in disbelief. "But-but...I like glitter eyeshadow."

However, all he responded with was, "You're so cute," before disappearing again.

She missed being Michelle already.

ⓁⓊⓍⓊⓇⓎ

'I lied. You don't mean anything to me. Just forget about us. Sorry.'

Jacqueline Lexington kept reading the text over and over again as she pushed open the rotating doors of the Montage Beverly Hills hotel that evening and hurried into one of the elevators going up to the top floor of the building.

She didn't mean anything to him? It was all she could concentrate on. She didn't care about the fact that he's a liar and that he wanted her to forget about him. She didn't mean anything to him. After everything, she supposedly didn't mean anything to him.

Now how was she going to keep her cool, calm, collected manner when she runs right into his punchable face at her father's Love Wins event?

'If he even shows up.'

It would have been better if he had just said he hated her. Hate implied she stirred emotions in him. But the words, 'You don't mean anything to me,' meant what they implied. She didn't mean anything to him. She wasn't hated nor loved.

"Someone's getting creative with their asshole tactics." She muttered aloud, staring at the screen of her newly purchased Windows Phone with the last of drop of bitterness that still lingered on her pretty face.

Then as soon as the silver doors of the elevator swished open with an ear-pleasing ding! , bitter, sad, hurt Jac was gone and a serene, Hollywood-worthy smile now enhanced her features. It was an unspoken fact in Beverly Hills that showing any hint of a problem got people talking and the last thing Jac needed was more gossip.

She'd had a fair share of it last semester.

The Montage Hotel's Crystal Ballroom was the venue Jeffrey Lexington had picked out for his charitable Love Wins event where wealthy hypocrites, some who didn't even believe in the movement, showed up in outfits meant for a casual Grammys, donated at least fifty grand to Jeffrey's cause - which Jac still wasn't sure if it was to save Turtles or add some extra cash to his already plentiful bank account - and stand in corners of the room and gossip about each other.

Oh and then there was that whole award thing Jeffrey had thrown in to seem super caring for the BH Courier reporters that had shown up.

As usual, despite how fake the entire event was, it still had a turnout with every relevant person in Beverly Hills seated at one of the gold and copper-colored clothed tables or chatting each other up as some of the hotel's staff came around with platters of Wolfgang Puck's finest dishes - and the least alcoholic drink they could find which was probably going to be spiked later in the night by Brett Richers.

Jac made it past the granite archway that reached for the mosaic ceiling and tried to pretend she was on the outside looking in. It was something she'd been doing since Blake offered his "wisdom" and from the outside, everyone and everything looked so ridiculous it almost hurt to be there.

But as soon as she changed her scope, all was well - sort of.

"Oh, Jacqueline, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight!" Jac directed her focus back on her surroundings to see Mrs. Costa coming towards her, hands outstretched for a hug and her daughter, Benny, trailing behind her. The curvy Cherokee woman practically never aged and despite being nearly fifty, she could still pass for a strong thirty-four in a rose-printed Barbara Bui long sleeved gown and a furry Vera Wang coat.

"And you look just as gorgeous." Jac said although she would have given the same compliment to anyone to keep them flattered - even Cher, despite the fact the dress she'd come in reminded her of a glittery womb.

Clarissa Costa - whose actual name was Catori but legally changed after the priest called her 'Catpiss,' at her own wedding - smiled and Jac tried to look at her from a different perspective. On the inside, Clarissa was probably one of the most respected women in the business world but from the outside, she looked like one of those Sugar Moms that were obsessed with Bulgari Jewels and men who looked like the Sprouse twins.

It almost scared Jac to think of how she looked to the outside.

"And wheres your equally gorgeous mother?" Clarissa asked innocently, giving a 'toodles,' wave at someone too irrelevant for Jac to notice. Despite the innocent question, Jac could hear the hint of mischief in her prim voice. Unlike Benny, Clarissa was a gossip. "Will she be supporting your father tonight - or are they not on good terms? I would have asked her myself but she's gone awol since the auction and you know I don't like to ponder."

Benny tsked, looking like a perfect mix between a Vampire's bride and a chic model on the runway in a brownish plaid sleeveless Ralph Lauren maxi dress , eyes sultry thanks to a cat-like eyeliner touch up and raven hair piled into a envious bun on top of her head.

Jac nearly answered Clarissa's "caring" questions with, 'Consider her dead,' but quickly bit her tongue.

Her mother, Eve, had been pretty distraught over the atrocity that was the auction in which Jeffrey had gotten on stage and confessed his love to Steve in front of everyone. She'd fled Beverly Hills claiming she needed solace and Jac hadn't seen her since. She hadn't even called or left a voicemail to let her know she was okay. If she kept up her lack of presence, she was most likely going to miss Jac's looming seventeenth birthday. It was as if she had simply disappeared - like another person in her life.

And as for good terms, Eve wasn't even here to sign divorce papers.

"She's doing fine," Jac lied, fiddling with the Ana Khouri gold leaf hair pin she'd slipped gingerly into her shiny jet black hair. "She just called last night to tell me about her mishaps in Dubai actually." Lies, lies, lies. The only person that called her last night was some kid named Gilbert from Pacific Vista Prep who'd somehow gotten her new number and blabbered drunkenly on the phone that he wanted to marry her.

On top of that, when she'd finally come home after nearly dying on a yacht, her father hadn't even been home to be the annoying worried parent. He had been jet setting through Paris on a serial love affair with Steve.

She'd spent the night crying internally over Cookie Dough Ice Cream and wishes of the Allenburg's yacht actually taking her down with it.

Clarissa nodded in scrutiny. "So she abandoned you."

"Excuse me?"

"Instead of staying here and facing her failed marriage, she just left. I could never do that. Its too selfish especially considering what you have to go through," Clarissa went on, giving her a genuine sympathetic look. She always spoke her mind whenever Eve Lexington was nowhere to be found. "If that were me, I'd be right here supporting my daughter through this troubled time," She rested a hand on Benny's shoulder who stifled a laugh. "In my opinion that's what a mother should do."

Jac could practically feel the color in her face fading. She tried to find something snappy to reply with and found herself asking the typical question, 'What would Erika say?'

"But that's my opinion." Clarissa said again with a laugh.

"Well I don't agree." Jac managed nonchalantly although Clarissa's "opinion" struck deep.

"Well thats my opinion," She said for the third time and then smiled pleasantly. "By the way, beautiful pendant, Jacqueline. It goes with your eyes." With that she sashayed away, Benny shooting her an apologetic look before disappearing along with her in the throng of arriving guests and Jac looked down at what she thought was her ruby necklace - and she was given another dose of irritation.

She was wearing Blake's emerald green flower pendant. In her haste to get to the hotel, she must have dressed in the dark and ended up fastening the necklace around her neck instead of her favorite gold rose-emblem Avakian Geneve jewelry set.

The pendant glimmered in the chandelier lights that her fellow snooty acquaintances basked in and Jac nearly took it off but then at that moment spotted the bell boy himself near the stage. He still looked sheepishly handsome in his red-and-black uniform as he carried a platter of martinis, weaving through crowds of designer-clothed attendees that reminded Jac of the mannequins at Bergdorf.

What was he even doing at the Montage? Jac was pretty sure he worked at the Beverly Wilshire - unless he was stalking her.

As he handed Chris Edward's father a martini, Blake's eyes somehow found hers and he smiled a toothy grin, smile only growing wider as he caught sight of the pendant.

She gave a slight wave back.

Now she couldn't ditch the necklace in one of the flower pots without seeming like a snobby bitch - which she hadn't cared about being before until Blake.

Whatever. If there was a slight chance that Damon was coming, then she could rub Blake's sweet - yet cheap - gift in his face.

For some reason, the idea excited her a little too much.

Plucking a glass of Pellegrino off of one of the less hot caterer's platters, Jac tossed the lemony liquid back, disappointed that Brett Richers hadn't gotten around to spiking the drinks yet and strutted calmly through close knit groups of girls in Louis Vuittons that were so big, they were most likely their mother's, and adults talking animatedly at tables as if they all didn't hate each other.

Just as she started for the bathroom or a corner to look pretty in while she sulked inside, she bumped right into a Felix coming from the hallway that lead back to the suites.

But not the Felix she wanted.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, was that silk?" Jac asked, face flushing at the realization she'd spilled half of her Pellegrino on one of the most successful men in California's precious black-gold lined Armani suit.

Mr. Felix surprisingly didn't wear the usual grim look she always seen on his face - which usually appeared when Damon was screwing up at a game or something. He simply whipped out his handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed at the faint splotch that could pass for water. "Fortunately, this isn't my favorite suit."

"Still doesn't excuse how embarrassed I am," Jac said. Her voice always turned formal whenever she exchanged words with him. It was a subconscious thing apparently.

Nonetheless, Jac really couldn't imagine how anyone could be afraid of Matthew. If she didn't know any better, he could pass for a random rich guy in a suit. But then again, its not like she knew the man behind closed doors.

The one who gave Damon all those bruises. Just the thought of it made her wince.

"Well I hope you enjoy the rest of your...event." Matthew's voice oozed disgust on the word, 'event,' and he started back for the ballroom.

However, despite the text still repeating over and over again in her head, Jac couldn't help but let the question slip out. If she didn't know, it'd drive her crazy. "Just out of curiosity, where did Damon go?"

Mr. Felix turned around as if he were waiting for this question. "He's been sent to St. Larks in Eastport. He thought it was better for his education."

Jac tried to search for the tone she always heard when adults were drawing lies over scandals but failed. She slightly hoped for something like juvie to be the answer. At least there weren't any girls possibly prettier than her there.

"He thought?"

"Thats what he wanted," Mr. Felix went on. "I think it'll benefit his grades and give him a second chance at Princeton. Don't you agree?"

"Of course." But why didn't he tell her he was leaving?

"I think we can both agree we're all better off without Damon here." He went on although it sounded as if he were talking more to himself.

Jac could barely manage a nod.

Seeming satisfied with her reaction, Mr. Felix carried on back to the event, scowling at the singer cooing with the RNB beat that bounced off the intricate wooden walls.

Jac suddenly felt dizzy despite the fact her drink wasn't spiked. He left. He left without telling her a thing. It hurt more than Eve falling off the face of the Earth and not contacting her at all. Sure, she hadn't been there when Eve was crying her eyes out somewhere after the auction but she was the daughter and daughters were allowed to be spoiled bitches.

He was supposed to be the person she vented to so that her mother going MIA wouldn't hurt so much but apparently it was 'Disappearing Week,' and she was the only one who hadn't gotten the memo.

While Clarissa Costa had claimed she just had an opinion, Jac was starting to think her opinion was some kind of truth.

She was always abandoned.

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A/N: This took me a little too long to update because there were SO MANY scenes I cut out of this. If I had kept them in, this would have been about 6000 words! This is kind of slow but I promise the next part is more up and running (first chapters of stories are always a pain to write for me.)

Notice the pretty fanart? It was once again made by the amazing author and media maker rainbowbrook ! (CHECK OUT HER BOOKS!) I used this one specifically because I know in my heart Jac definitely owns those shoes! LOL

Of course, I love to hear thoughts and a hundred times thank you to those who read! I'm just gonna stop cringing at how many times I say this :p

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